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deleteddewewted · 3 years

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Incel!Shinsou Oneshot: "Why are you acting like that?”

To keep busy I just thought that a oneshot of Shinsou getting self conscious/needy would be cute since we already have his redemption arc rolling in. The next part of the Incel!Shinsou series (Part 3) will have him proving his worth at the Sports Festival. So in thinking of how he will prove himself to you I thought of how will all of those people affect him, especially you. ( This oneshot takes place pre changes, so Shinsou is still his disgusting self but he's figuring out how to woo a woman, especially of your caliber.)

Incel!Shinsou Series:

Part 1: Incel! Shinsou x F!Reader

Part 2: Incel! Shinsou x F!Reader

Incel!Shinsou Headcanons

"I know what you're doin' here. Made your intentions clear. Oh you, you terrible thing, you. Terrible thing, you. Terrible thing, you. Beautiful thing"

TW: Strong Language, Mild Sexism

People were never an obstacle when it came to the things Shinsou wanted. He’s aware that others would do anything for him if he played his cards right. The right words with the right question did wonders for him. So why the fuck couldn’t he have what he wanted when it came to you? You drove him up the wall with the kindness you showed him. He didn’t deserve it and you’re existence almost felt like a punishment from whatever deity that existed out there to make him suffer. You guys were suppose to be studying for your upcoming project that required a poster, a slide show, and one influential person that would help prove your projects point. You left him running circles within his own mind as to how you were so willing to challenge him. He wanted you to obey him not see through his bullshit. It wasn’t like you didn’t listen to him vent, or didn't give him attention, but he wanted to hold you under his control. To be the person you listened to.

In class you where both seated on the extreme ends of the room on opposite sides. You never realized this (you do), but his head would periodically turn towards your direction to look at you, to figure you out (liar). This time, you managed to catch him do it.

“What are you doing?” You asked plainly. You honestly didn’t care that he was staring, everyone does when you dress like you're attending an MCR concert in the middle of autumn.

“You look different....today.”

“Nice.” It was difficult to care. Shinsou was just some guy in your class that you had to deal with. Nothing special really....ok, maybe it wasn’t fully true. You didn’t really know him all that well or anything (Unless it was mocking and belittling everything you did, that was normal behavior for him so it wasn’t surprising to find out he was like that outside of campus.) but he wasn’t all that bad? If he cared for himself a bit more, hygiene wise he would be considered handsome or at least a competent human being (you weren't going to call him a man, men don't act this childish. At least the ones you knew.) Maybe then you would take his opinion seriously, but for now you’ll ignore his...interesting comments he's been throwing towards you today.

“It’s rude to ignore someone when their talking to you, you know?” The neutral face he had now possessed a frown and a furrow to his brows. You still couldn’t process how he took the time to make sure his hair stayed purple but didn’t care for his body odor. (This man dyes his hair purple yet cant bother to shower or use deodorant for once in his life.)

“I’m not ignoring you, I’m just not interested in anything you have to say.” With that you get up and take your things and leave. There was no point in wasting time on someone who couldn’t even look at you directly and had to also sneak glances at you. "Do I really look that unbearable?" you thought to yourself. In the end you didn’t care anymore, everyone was entitled to an opinion and the last thing you need is feeling self conscious because of your out of place classmate.

Shinsou was fuming. How the fuck did you just get up and leave his ass while he was trying to complement you. You should have been more appreciative that he was giving you his attention for once. A bitch like you wasn't even worth it so he doesn't understand why he even tried with you.

He never goes directly home after school but instead to the local theater. It was one of the few places where he could be around others and could genuinely be himself. It was weird, he didn't feel like himself when he was speaking with his "friends", friends that he's never spoken to verbally, never seen, and never would meet. He knew that he didn't deserve this, to have a safe haven when he acts like an ass, yet here he was.

"Good morning Shinsou! How are you? Are you ready for rehearsals? You did remember to read your lines, right?" Shinsou rolls his eyes at his theater mates antics. Monoma never seems to stop but he does know when to tone it down and when it comes to Shinsou he tones it down a bit. (Because Monoma is canonically considerate of others, look back the Sports Festival and the Joint Training Arc.)

"Im good man, yes i did read and memorized the script, dont worry about it." What an odd friendship, the most chaotic gentleman like man out the bunch with the quietist incel in the group. Shinsou should have seen it coming when he was adopted by Monoma but he's running on 2 to 4 hours of sleep so he doesn't really care.

Believe it or not Shinsou does take showers (only for theater) but very quickly and with no care (no shampoo or soap, fucking why man.) Theater means more to him and so making his character look the best they possible can was his first and foremost priority. He puts on his costume, gets to makeup (the minimum, because it's "gay" for him to wear makeup and since the world is unfair and cruel he has perfect skin for a greasy headed asshole.)

"Everyone get a move on! Kodai, Tsuburaba, and Awase! Go to stage left! Light techs, how's it up there?" One of the tech heads shouted out. Shinsou and Monoma got to their positions on the stage and the rehearsals began.

Love, the play was about love. Love that wasn't rejected but also not accepted. He didn't understand the concept fully. Was it romantic? Platonic? Familiar? Admiration? He loved his dad, but he mostly admired him. He worked long hours and middle resents him for not being there for him, yet he realizes that his dad works to give him the world, a home with all the things he wanted. He never had a mother so he never had parental or familiar, again his dad was there but he wanted a parent that would hold him when he came back from school everyday. He didn't have a girlfriend, so he doesn't know romantic. So far all of his characters where villains, or evil in some way. He was starting to get sick of them. Shinsou wanted something more, wanted to play a character that wasn't how everyone saw him as on his day to day life. He wanted a challenge, he wanted....affection. Just to show it. He wanted attraction. Just to abuse it. He wanted...love. To just...maybe...feel...enjoy...understand it.

"You terrible thing you. My love, you're so cold. You've left me hanging on every one of your words. You've made me loose my self, lose my self-control because of you!" He pours everything into his performance, his loneliness, his regrets, his experience. He's been told by his co-performers and directors that he has a great future in the arts, in theater. If he just took care of himself more he would be an amazing actor, not only incredibly talented but also attractive. He would have the world kneeling, bowing to him just from his words alone. He could have anything he wanted just because of his existence.

" You've made me do things i don't want to do...for you." Kodai stands there looking horrified. He's covered in blood, the blood of her lover, the one she left him for.

"No, i-i didn't-"

"YOU MADE ME-MADE DO THIS FOR YOU! You terrible, terrible, terrible thing! You beautiful thing, I've done this for you!...and you still cant and won't love me." He doesn't see Kodai anymore. It's not her face he sees, nor her voice that he hears.

Its you...its your voice. You. You looking back at him while he slowly lowered himself to kneel and crawl towards you. It's you who backs away from him as he starts to cry and hiccup.

"You wreck me, you made me. You leave me in your wake, please let me go!" He sees you and feels you grabbing his wrists back, pushing him into himself.

"Don't you ever let me go...."

You terrible beautiful thing, you.

And here we are again. This was a lot fun to write since it feels more concrete when it comes towards his personality and his full thought process. In many cases people like Shinsou just want attention or some sense of validation, which there is nothing wrong with wanting those things but it's more about the manner you go about it. You shouldn't pressure or force others to spend time with you, but there is always someone out there that will like to give you those things.

Tag list: @blossominglark

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that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick · 3 years

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I've been so excited to write for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021 (go check out other amazing fics and art in the collection at @mysme-rbb), and it's the first fanfic/art event I've participated in! @madiebelleadventures and I teamed up to brainstorm this beast, so her art is at the very end (because I ain't spoilin nothin)!

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: One day after the end of a work week, Vanderwood surprises MC with some husband-wife baking time—with a twist. Inspired by his agent training, he suggests that they bake as a team but have MC blindfolded. In order to make a cake that's actually edible, she must follow his directions to the letter. All that's left after that is chaos, banter, and spouse-flustering. And figuring out how to actually make a cake.

A/N: Fyi MC is definitely more of her own character than a reader-insert on this one. Also as per usual with me, I headcanon Vanderwood as British, so I tried heavily to align his phrasing accordingly, despite being an American myself. Enjoy seeing exactly how much fluff I can possibly cram into 5k words!

MC sighed happily at the feeling of the wind in her hair as she drove home from work one Friday evening. Windows down, jacket off, music blasting—the air itself felt like freedom. She had nothing against her job—in fact, she enjoyed it for the most part. She prided herself in a job well done, she liked being able to manage a team of her own, and the paycheck and benefits were good. Nothing extravagant, of course, but enough to comfortably support a couple newlyweds.

And that was the real reason MC nearly jumped out the door every day when everything wrapped up at the office. Who wouldn't, with a husband as unfairly hot as Vanderwood? Completely unfair how he could make leopard print and what was practically a mullet actually look attractive. Thank goodness his fashion sense had mellowed out over time, if only a little bit. With Vanderwood's past being what it was, they had mutually come to the conclusion that it would be best for their well-being if he stayed at their apartment during the day to keep the household running. He was very particular about how he cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry, and he handled their finances conscientiously and precisely. Admittedly, she did have to occasionally remind him that as sleek as that new top-of-the-line taser was, there was no real need for it, but that was just part of her husband's charm.

And boy, was he charming.

She truly couldn't wait to get home, past this rush hour traffic. She'd get home and be pulled in for a deep kiss moments after walking in the door. Maybe he'd slip a gentle but insistent hand into her hair. Maybe they'd take it a little further. Or a lot further.

"HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS ON BACON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???"

MC swerved to avoid a collision and waited for her heartbeat to settle down again. There was no freaking way she was going to die in some stupid car wreck before their date tonight. A surprise, he'd said. No matter how hard she'd tried to weasel more out of him, he wouldn’t bend. Darn agent training. Good thing it wouldn't be a surprise for much longer. Within minutes, the streets got smaller and quieter as she neared her apartment building. Another minute, and she flung open the apartment door and leapt on her husband.

MC's fantasies were soon replaced by an even better reality when Vanderwood's lips landed on hers. Kissing back enthusiastically, MC wrapped her arms around his middle so tight that a less sturdy man would be coughing for air. Vanderwood snatched her keys and purse and hung them by the doorway, never breaking his focus for a second. His kisses grew slower, but no less fervent, as he smoothed her wind-strewn hair. Eventually, their lips reluctantly parted, and MC broke the silence.

"How did I manage to snag the best kisser on earth on top of marrying the most insanely attractive man on earth?"

Vanderwood smirked. "Good taste, I guess." He kissed her once more soundly for good measure.

"Maybe. Will my insanely attractive husband tell me what our surprise date is now?"

"Perhaps."

"No perhapses! I've been dying waiting!"

"Very well. Start by changing your clothes, because I am not scrubbing stains out of your good work clothes."

"Do I otherwise have to wear anything in particular? That's not a lot to go off of."

"Doesn't matter to me. Now go change before I do the job myself."

"I wouldn't complain."

"This is not that kind of date! Go!"

"Fine, Sir Panties-in-a-bunch."

MC went to the bedroom and took stock of her clothing options. She had to choose something practical that could be easily washed, but she still wanted to look a little cute. After all, it was a date. It was a tough balance to strike. Eh, she could always stick an apron or an old shirt over it. She grabbed her oversized paint shirt just in case before snagging a light pink shirt. Now for the bottoms. She debated on a simple skirt, but decided to go for it. After all, if it didn't fit with Vanderwood's plans, he would tell her. MC changed quickly and weaved her hair into a side braid, slipping a tendril out on each side to frame her face. Mirror-MC nodded in approval. Time to see what on earth her husband had been planning.

She cracked open the door and peeked through before skipping over to Vanderwood, who had made himself comfortable on the couch. His amber eyes widened in interest.

"You have no business looking this pretty for a baking date."

MC grinned. "Ha! I did get it out of you! A baking date sounds cute. What made you think of that? Are you just really getting into the whole house husband gig?"

"It was my agent training, actually." Seeing the puzzled look on his wife's face, Vanderwood continued, "There's a bit of a twist to it, you see. I will hardly be doing any of the actual baking. You, my dear, on the other hand, will be completely blindfolded. You will have to follow my instructions explicitly, or else the result will be completely inedible."

"I still fail to see how the setup doesn't sound like 'that kind of date', but it sounds like fun! What does this have to do with your agent training, though?"

"Various exercises used similar techniques. Many times in the field, we had to follow orders to the letter with no questions asked if we wanted to make it out in one piece. We also did training to be able to operate blindly or in the dark if our vision was compromised. But none of it was as enjoyable as watching a beautiful woman bake a cake by pure trust."

"You're such a flatterer. Keep it coming," MC smirked.

"At least get into the kitchen first," Vanderwood said, handing her a blindfold that looked suspiciously like his nap mask.

"Okay, but if you don't want me in the kitchen until I'm blindfolded, you're gonna have to get my apron yourself."

"I thought I was the one giving out orders tonight?"

"A girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere."

"Such a docile wife I have. Never difficult, never demanding."

"You think it's sexy. Don't even try to deny it."

"I would have filed for immediate divorce if the description 'docile' actually fit you." He stepped into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with the apron. MC slipped it on and, after ducking briefly into the bathroom to wash her hands, covered her eyes with the blindfold.

"I'm at your mercy now. Don't abuse that privilege."

He materialized behind her, winding his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear before attacking her stomach. MC burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"I swear—!" she giggled "—I swear I'm going to punch the living daylights out of you!"

"You're certainly welcome to try. You know I wouldn't even feel it."

"But I could try. How am I supposed to trust you to give me decent directions to bake whatever the heck we're making if I can't even trust you not to tickle me?"

"You don't. That's the thrill of it."

"You'd better have me make something actually edible for all our trouble."

"That all depends on how well you follow my instructions."

"And how decent your instructions are. Let's not forget that tiny detail," she reminded.

"Hmm, we'll see," The smile was evident in his voice. "Now if we're going to start, we need to go ahead and do it."

"Probably."

He guided MC by her upper arms into the narrow kitchen.

"Fortunately," he said, halting and holding her in place, "we're only baking a cake and not an entire meal, so it won't take an eternity."

"I sure hope not! It's pizza night and I'm already a little hungry!"

He wound his hands around his wife's waist, lightly patting her stomach. "Well, the faster we start, the faster we can eat. I've already laid everything out for you as best I can, so you just have to follow my directions, all right, love?"

"Got it."

"All right, can you feel the worktop?" A nod. "Raise your right hand just a bit...and over…now grab the box with the cake mix, because heaven knows neither of us knows or cares enough to make it from scratch. Got it? Now open it up. The mixing bowl is straight to the left. Go ahead and pour it in."

"Just so you know, if I spill anything, you're the one taking responsibility."

"And why is that, darling?" Vanderwood asked, feigning shock.

"Because you're the one who had this idea in the first place! Not to mention if I make a mess it’s because of your faulty directions."

Unfortunately, MC failed to prove her point, pouring the mix into the bowl and barely spilling a few crumbs.

"Looks like we may not have to worry about that," Vanderwood smirked.

"You have met me, right? You know something's going to get spilled, right?"

Ignoring her, he moved the empty box toward the back and continued, "The milk should be right around where the cake mix was, if you can remember where you just were. The measuring jug is right next to it. Do you think you can pour it in correctly?"

"We'll see, now won't we?"

"There you go. Just try to take it slowly, just in case, and stop when I say so."

MC obeyed, gradually tilting the milk jug until a thin stream hit the center of the measuring cup.

"Brilliant! Now careful, careful, slightly to the left...that's it! Now slow down...almost done...stop!" He kissed her cheek. "That was amazing. Now pour it into the bowl."

MC felt around for the mixing bowl again. She managed to find it and poured in the milk. "Where's the cap for the milk jug?"

"Hm...where did it go? Oh, there it is. Right by the sink."

She batted at the air around her right side to find the inside of the sink. Instead, her hand bumped the side of the milk jug. Vanderwood's hand shot out to catch it, but a small puddle had already sloshed onto the counter. MC's hand shot up to take off the blindfold, but Vanderwood caught her wrist first. She sighed.

"Vandy, give it to me straight. How bad is it?"

"Not bad at all. I caught it before much got out. Stay put for a moment while I wipe it up so it doesn't start to smell or dry up."

"Not to say I told you, but I definitely told you."

Her husband stuck out his tongue at her—one of the few ways he had begun to let himself be childish lately. Then the obvious dawned on him. "I'm sticking out my tongue. I thought you ought to know that."

"Crucial information. Are you done yet?"

"Yep. You ready to get your hands a little dirty?"

"Isn't that expected in all this?"

"That's probably a large part of why you demanded an apron first, yes."

"You would be right about that, also yes. And you're so dramatic. I did not demand."

"Up to interpretation. Reach up to the left of the mixing bowl and just grab it off the plate and toss it in."

As instructed, MC reached over and let out a tiny shriek when her hand came into contact with the soft butter. Vanderwood guffawed.

"I was waiting for that."

MC gasped. "You did this on purpose!" She flung the butter into the bowl with an extra dash of vindictiveness.

"Maybe so. I like hearing your reactions," he purred.

"Don't try to be all smooth when you're being a twit. It doesn't suit you," MC sniffed, then muttered under her breath, "actually it totally works for you but it doesn't make me less ticked at you."

"By the way, don't bother trying to wash your hands just yet. The next part is probably going to be the messiest. I'll go get the bin so it'll be close by for you."

"Appreciated. What's the next part?"

"Eggs."

"Yikes, okay. That's why I needed the trash can, then. And where are the eggs?"

"To your left. You're going to need four of them. I read somewhere that adding an extra egg makes it better, hypothetically."

"You're the one giving the instructions."

"Alright, the bin is to your left, whenever you're ready."

"I could hear the thunk when you set it down, but thank you," MC said wryly.

"I live to serve."

There was silence for a moment as MC cracked the first egg into the bowl, and a soft smile rose on her face like the dawn. "Not anymore, you don't. I thank God every day that you and Saeyoung were able to free yourselves from the agency. I never could have forgotten you even if you hadn't, but I never would have known the immense joy I've gotten to have by being your wife." She sniffed, then laughed. "Sorry for being so sentimental all of a sudden, I don't know what got into me. It's just that knowing how many things could have gotten between us makes me that much more grateful for what we have."

"Ah!" Vanderwood shot a hand out to correct the second egg's trajectory into the mixing bowl.

"Oops, thank you."

"No problem, love. We're a team." He settled against her back, rubbing her arms lightly and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "And never feel sorry for your so-called sentimentality. In fact, I really think you hold back sometimes. You shouldn't. I know that I used to scoff at these things, but locking out your emotions for job after job really takes a toll on a man. The agency had no room for love of any sort, and I've long come to the realization that every person is hardwired to desire love of one kind or another. I know I'm still unlearning all of my coping mechanisms, and I know I'm still sharp with some people, but with you?" He smoothed a hair back from her face. "I'll take whatever love you can give me."

She cracked the third egg into the bowl and threw out the shell. "I always knew you could be a softie, very deep down. I'm just glad that I get to be the one to see it."

After the fourth egg was in the bowl, Vanderwood directed, "Okay, time to wash up. The next thing is mixing for two minutes. While I love you, I do not trust you to use an electric mixer while blindfolded, so you're going to use a whisk for that job."

"I suppose that's fair. Can you put away the trash can while I wash my hands?"

"Already on it."

"Where's the whisk, again?"

"I kind of put it toward the back, so either be careful or wait for me to move a few things."

"Oh, I've got it. Don't worry," MC waved a hand in dismissal and groped around for the whisk, but her arm was a bit too low, and she dipped her clothed elbow in the plate where the butter had been. She sighed. "What did I just decorate my elbow with?"

"Butter. Try it. It might be tasty," he teased.

"Come on, Vandy, this is not the time. Help me get it off before it soaks in too much."

"Alright, alright, I just had to pick on you a little bit for not listening to me." He carefully scooped off the top layer of the butter with a paper towel before trying to absorb the rest. "I'm going to roll up your sleeves a bit more so that this hopefully won't happen again."

"Well, not until I slosh half the cake out of this bowl trying and failing to mix it."

"You'll be fine. Just stick to mixing the center and bringing the outside of it toward the center so everything gets mixed. But mix it well and mix it fast. The timer starts...now!"

MC held the bowl against her stomach to steady it while she mixed the batter vigorously. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to mix furiously while keeping it all in the bowl on top of being blindfolded!"

"Calm down, you're doing great. A couple drips, maybe, but it's staying in."

"So far, anyway. But that's good, I guess."

"No guessing. It's quite good." Vanderwood leaned against the counter. "We've got a minute and a half to kill. Should I spend it telling you how you look right now?"

"Oh gosh, do I even want to know?"

He shook his head in near disbelief, smiling. "Magnetic. Adorable. More delicious than the cake we're making."

MC cackled. "You cannot be serious. I've got to be a mess right now."

"You act as if that's a contradiction. It's the mess that makes you more beautiful. Is every single hair of yours in place? No. But they fall around your face in the most delicately beautiful way. Even the places where the ingredients got smudged on you somehow add to your charm." He leaned in so that his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a gravelly timbre. "Did you know that your cheeks are all rosy from the effort you're putting into stirring? It's unbelievably attractive. And the way your lips press together when you're concentrating? It makes me want to kiss them apart. In fact—"

"Vanderwood, how much time is left?" MC interrupted, suppressing a vivid blush and a shiver.

"Our entire lives," he said, happily ignoring the real question.

"The timer, Vanderwood. How much is left on the timer?"

The sound of the timer going off answered the question for him. "None," he grinned. "I'll go spray the cake pan while you rest for a moment. You've earned it."

She exhaled, set the mixing bowl aside, and stretched. Then a thought made her panic. "Vandy, we forgot to preheat the oven."

He held her face in his hands. "MC. Darling. Breathe. I set the oven when I grabbed the apron."

Her breathing gradually slowed. "Sorry, love. I'm just really hungry and kind of tired and I think not being able to see is doing weird things to my brain and you kind of flustered me a minute ago with what you were saying and I'm sorry, I—" her voice cracked, but Vanderwood cut her off and held her close.

"Hey...hey...you're alright. There's nothing to be sorry about. I kept you going after a long day of work without feeding you first. I should have known better." He smoothed her hair and tucked it into her braid. "I'll tell you what. How about we get this cake in the oven and then order some pizza and watch another episode of Cucumber Fish?"

MC sniffled and hummed in agreement. Vanderwood loosened his hold around her and gently brought her hands to the bowl again before grabbing the cake pan. "Okay, all you've got to do now is pour it into the pan that I've put just to the left of the bowl. Just take it nice and easy. There you go. Perfect. You're almost done. Now let me get a spatula to scoop the last of it out." After he finished, he slid the cake pan into the oven and started the timer. "There. All done." He slipped the mask off her eyes and gave her a peck on the lips as she blinked to adjust to the light. "I'll clean all this up, alright? Go ahead and relax on the sofa. You can order the pizza and get Cucumber Fish queued up while I finish up in here."

"Okay," she murmured. Another peck, and she curled up on the couch. She pulled out her phone to order the pizza and smiled at the notifications she'd gotten from the RFA chatroom. They were up to their normal antics again. Hopefully, Saeyoung wouldn't exasperate Saeran too much with his crazy propositions. But there was nothing she could do about that, and she was starving and in desperate need of pizza. Once it was ordered, she turned on the TV and selected the episode, making sure to let it run past the ads before pausing it.

After Vanderwood joined her on the couch, the next forty-five minutes was filled with lots of cuddling and pizza devouring, more kissing than watching the show, a few glances at the cake's progress, an agreement to actually watch the episode while they ate the cake, and several minutes of cooling time after the cake was removed from the oven. Vanderwood emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes of setting up to decorate.

"Are you sure you want to put on the mask again?" he asked. "I don't want it to mess with your head like it did last time."

"I'll be fine, babe. I'm pretty sure it was like that last time just because I was starving."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes."

"If you say so. Go ahead and get them on, then," he said, handing MC the apron and mask.

"Just make sure to lead me into the kitchen again."

"Hmm, we'll see."

"We'll see?" she repeated, but shrieked soon after when she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. Vanderwood had scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen bridal-style and sank his lips against hers with intentionality. He bumped into the counter but managed to avoid any damage to his wife. He deposited one last kiss on her lips before setting her down.

"What have you done to me, woman? Years and years of agent skills, undone in a moment. If it were anything or anyone else, I never would have bumped into that worktop. But when it's you kissing me, you're the only thing that exists." He grinned. "It's a shame, really. I thought my dexterity was an impressive skill, but I don't even have that anymore, it seems."

"Shame indeed," MC parroted, trying to steal another kiss from his lips and stealing one from his nostrils instead. She made a face, causing Vanderwood to laugh.

"Well, at least I still have the ability to order you around." MC smacked him in response, and he continued, "Alright, alright, let's get to it then. This is where it'll get really interesting, since decorating requires more precision. Which, no offense, is a skill you don't have, since you're not exactly used to being blind."

"Now wait just a—okay, I can't argue that," MC sighed. He placed a spatula in one hand and a jar of frosting in her other.

"Turn around. Can you find where the cake is?"

"Ye—wait, Vandy! I thought you said you cleaned up!"

"I did…sort of." Before she could protest, he interjected, "I wiped the worktop! I just pushed all the dishes to one side so we could put all of it in the dishwasher at once when we were done!" He added with a mumble, "I just wanted to get back to you."

"You think you can charm your way out of anything," MC responded airily. "Well, you're right." She squared up as best she could with a frosting jar in hand. "I found the cake. I'll try to do my best."

"Well, in this part, I won't let you go completely solo. I can rotate the cake for you as you go, if you want."

"Please."

MC scooped a large helping of frosting from the jar and started spreading around the perimeter. Her spatula made a slight detour for a moment to donate some frosting to the top of the cake, and Vanderwood halted and reversed his rotation slightly to avoid confusion. A few seconds later, she went for another, slightly smaller, scoop to finish frosting the circumference of the cake. Another scoop, added to the deposit from the first, finished off the top.

"Is there a big corner around the top edge? Or any dry spots?" she asked.

"Just a slight corner. Grab a little bit more frosting to round it off a bit and thicken the top."

She did as directed while he helped rotate, and stepped back. "Better?"

"Much better. Maybe we can add a little artistic touch by making some...what do you call them? Swoops? Around the sides from the top?"

"Sounds great. You're definitely going to have to help me, though."

"Alright, I'll rotate again and stop you when you're done. Then you can smooth off the top edge again quick."

Six slightly lopsided arcs later, he stepped back for a moment, observing. "This is certainly not the prettiest cake I've seen, but it all adds to the fun, yeah?"

"I guess," she laughed.

"Now here's the part that'll really get a laugh when you take off the blindfold. I've got a bowl over here with some frosting for smaller decorating, and you get to pick the food coloring that goes in it."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," he snickered while guiding her over to a trio of colored bottles that she couldn't discern. "Take your pick," he said cheerily. MC gingerly selected one, and he suppressed a snort poorly. "Excellent choice!"

MC groaned. "I'm going to regret all my life choices, aren't I?"

"Of course not! Only your decision to marry me."

"Hey." She squeezed his wrist. "I could never regret that."

"You might reevaluate that statement when you take off the blindfold and see the cake. Or at least my ugly mug."

"Vanderwood. Don't you even start with me. You're so hot that if we were working with chocolate instead of a cake, we wouldn't need the microwave to melt it."

"You're so hot that the beach would need sunblock instead of you."

"You're so hot that the sun goes to you when it needs to warm up."

They collapsed against each other, gasping for air. Vanderwood caught his breath first. "Let's get this food coloring in the bowl, shall we? The spoon and frosting are already in it. All you have to do is put a few drops in and stir until I say so. The bowl's on your left."

"As you wish," she said as she did so.

After a few moments, he spoke. "That's enough. Let me get you back over to the cake, and I'll get the frosting in the decorating bag. Which is really just an ordinary plastic bag, but I did pick up some cheap decorating tips when I got the ingredients."

"Splendid. How am I going to decorate, though? Even if I could see, I don't know the first thing about cake decorating. Oh yeah, and I can't see."

"Don't get your 'panties in a bunch,' as you like to tell me so often. I'll do it with you this time."

"But you don't know how to decorate cakes, either!"

"Ah-ah-ah!” he chided. “Do you trust me or not?"

"Not particularly."

"Hey!"

"But! We should just go ahead and do it anyway, because even though neither of us knows what we're doing, we're the only ones in this apartment who can. And the frosting smells too good not to eat soon."

"That's my girl." Vanderwood curled around her. He molded one hand around hers and slid the other over her stomach. As they formed a few swirls on the top, he murmured, "We did this whole thing together. How impressive is that? Was it as fun for you as it was for me?"

MC smiled. "Of course it was. I know I got a little hangry for a bit there, but I know how much thought you put into this. None of my old deadbeat ex-boyfriends ever would have cared so much, let alone shown it. These are the things that make me love you that much more."

"I never experienced any permanent love until you showed it to me. And it's been so...world-altering—that I've been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. I still can't. But I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same love you've given me. I certainly don't deserve it, after the things I've done. But you do. You deserve all the happiness a person can have."

MC paused and blushed slightly. "Vandy…" She exhaled. "We've gone over this whole 'not deserving it' thing. Whether you deserve it or not doesn't matter. To me, what matters is your heart. You have such a beautiful heart, Vandy. I love the kind of man you've become. I've seen you strive every day to be better than you were the day before, and that is so inspiring."

"Well, whether or not I deserve happiness, I would choose to be happy every day if my being happy made you happy." He squeezed her hip affectionately and pulled her in for a tender kiss.

"It would." She kissed him back. They added one last swirl and a border before they set down the bag of frosting. He uncurled her fingers and fiddled with her wedding ring.

"Are you ready to see it?"

"Sure."

He slipped off the blindfold, and she gasped.

"What have we done?" she exclaimed as her laughing grew louder by the second.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Vanderwood asked, feigning ignorance.

"The cake is bright flaming orange, Vandy!" She let out a snort, then covered her face. "Hey, wait! All the food coloring was the same color too, you little twit!"

He shrugged innocently. MC sputtered. "Nuh-uh. Don't you shrug at me, mister. Saeyoung has rubbed off on you way too much."

"Has not."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe the tiniest bit."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought. Now are you as ready as I am to eat this cake and watch Cucumber Fish?"

"Let me take a picture first. And another one with you in it? You look so lovely, I can't not have one with you in it."

She tried desperately to keep a frown on her face as he snapped a picture but couldn't quite hold back the quirk at the corner of her mouth. He cut a slice for each of them and handed one to her. He curled the paper plate around his slice, and she did likewise. They looked each other in the eyes, both knowing exactly what would come next. Vanderwood solidified his stance. "Ready...steady...GO!" The couple raced to the living room and took a running jump onto the couch, ready for the wonderful night ahead.

#mysmerbb #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme vanderwood #vanderwood x mc #my writing #my fic #mysme fic #collab #art collab

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