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ficzhub · 7 months ago

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Well Then…

Chapter 1

"Is there any particular reason that you can't stand spending any time with me?" I ask finally after an excruciatingly awkward and silent dinner over Zoom. Wondering why my father just couldn't be bothered to see me. Not when I got into Nevermore, not when I got my first award for my art, not when Tyler and his shithead friends assaulted me and I was in the hospital with internal bleeding after they vandalized my mural, not when I and everyone else at school almost died last month because a psychopathic herbology teacher decided to reanimate her bigot pilgrim great-grand daddy.

"Please Xavier, can I be spared the dramatics? I've been very busy, you know this." He says, not even bothering to look up at the camera.

"Clearly, for the last ten years or so." I don't know what I did wrong. My older sisters got time with him.

"Enough with the snide commentary. If all you wanted to do on this call was chide me, this could've been done over text. At the very least that wouldn't have pushed back rehearsals." He whines

"What do you even need rehearsals for, oh Great and Talented Vincent Thorpe?"

"Talent isn't perfection. I hope you take that to heart, winning a handful of trinkets passed off as awards isn't enough to prove any kind of prowess at anything."

I can't help but roll my eyes at that. He wouldn't know what awards I have or haven't gotten, he's never seen them.

"Speaking of lack of prowess, your grandfather will be taking you back to school after the break is done in a few days." His voice coated in derision.

"What?"

"Your mother's father, not mine."

Well no shit, he's dead. "How come?"

"If this is another tirade about how it's traumatizing that I'm not holding your hand at all times-".

"Jesus dad, I just mean how come he's coming around? He hasn't been around much since Mom...you know." He cringed at the sentence, my mother is one of his father's least favorite subjects.

"Oh, I'm not sure. I didn't ask."

"Okay, thanks for letting me know."

"You're welcome. Now, I can't push back production anymore. Your report card was fine, you've been keeping your nose clean at school as far as I know and you ended up being some kind of hero last semester. Good on you for that, son. Anything else I should know about?" He asks uninterestedly

"Nope, you're pretty much caught up."

"Alright. I'll be putting some money in your account for school supplies and whatnot. Don't over do it, like last year..." he says still remembering how much I spent on Bianca "Make sure to call your grandfather and iron out your plans with him. Have a good night." He says and hangs up.

"Good night dad..." I say to a blank screen. I close my laptop and sigh. What did I expect?

I take my plate to the kitchen and clean it off to put in the dish washer. Staying alone at the manor always feels lonely. My father got us a maid but it feels so uncomfortable to have a strange woman washing my underwear and replacing my bedsheets or anything else for me. I'd rather just do it myself. She can busy herself sweeping and mopping or something, it's not like she pays me any mind.

I'll call Grandpa Ron tomorrow, I don't feel like talking to anyone. Well, there's one person, I haven't talked to her since my last day at school.

I can't even begin to wrap my head around what I should feel about Wednesday. Obviously she's not an easy person to deal with, she's selfish, manipulative and abrasive, but she's never pretended she's not. It's not like I didn't know to expect that. She's also brave, loyal and apparently fiercely protective. I don't wanna push my luck with her and make her feel suffocated, I wonder if the phone was too much. I send her a single text the day I got back home. Just a simple "See you when term starts." It hadn't marked at delivered, so either she never turned on the phone or she let it die. I wish I could go to therapy about all this but Wednesday's ex boyfriend killed her so, I'm shit outta luck with that. I haven't found another one near enough to school or home. I can't imagine I'd have an easy time building trust with them if I did anyway. New one might just die on me like the last.

That was crass.

Obviously Kinbott's murder wasn't about me, and her dying was senseless. Like that dick just wanted another body under his belt or Thornhill just felt like killing someone that day. Who knows, but I couldn't ignore that her death while tragic, really sucked for me.

I should just get my supplies and toke up. It's not like my dad would ever know and the help doesn't care one way or the other cause I don't leave a mess. I ran up to the studio and took my stuff out. The stash was still fresh from when I bought some with Ajax from some townie.

Keeping the puff in my lungs for as long as I can, I starts prepping my canvas...

This was a good idea. It had been a while since I'd let myself take a break from my own thoughts.

I painted Bianca. Her bright eyes and dark skin popping from each other. I still had so many unanswered questions about her. Seems minor compared to all the other things that have happened, but it's not nothing. I can't remember much right after meeting her. Getting coffee at the Weathervane before that asshole had gotten a job there and she was there too. We'd gotten the same coffee order and I accidentally grabbed hers. We'd cracked a few jokes with each other and exchanged numbers. Then suddenly I'm in a total fog and she's admitted into Nevermore. I'm paying for all her school supplies, and I don't remember offering, or her asking. Then I'm back to normal, we're chatting, she's joining clubs, making friends, we're bonding over our shared experience in neglectful or abusive parents, then I'm in a fog again and she's Ms.Popularity and we're Nevermore's Power Couple. When Divina told me what had happened after her and Bianca got into an argument, things cleared up. I didn't enjoy breaking up with her, I did care about her. I didn't wanna get her in trouble or kicked out of school either, it's not like she didn't deserve to be there. But I couldn't stand that I'd been manipulated for months. Am I really that bad of a judge of character? I mean, I had Tyler pegged right, but that one was hard to miss considering I'd tasted his shoe and one of his friends almost made my testicles reascend. I never really told Wednesday the whole truth, maybe if I had she'd have gotten it sooner. Violence isn't an issue to her, but bigotry never seemed her style. I partly blame myself for not being entirely honest with her all because I didn't wanna seem like a pussy. Maybe I deserved what happened. The beating, Wednesday ignoring me, the imprisonment, all of it. I could've prevented so much of it.

I'm spiraling. Maybe I should go to bed but painting was supposed to get this off my chest. This? What do I mean this? I wanna talk about a million things, there is no this. Shit maybe I can just text Wednesday's phone number. Kinbott's got disconnected so I get back that error message. Or worse, it could be reassigned to someone new, then I'm just traumadumping on some poor stranger who's probably got their own shit going on. What if they get confused and think they did something to me? What if they actually end up being someone I know that coincidentally got assigned the old number? They could trace back the texts to me if they already have my number. I'd never live it down. I know Wednesday clearly isn't using the phone, so no harm no foul.

"I'm so glad to hear that Wednesday!" My mother said emphatically, gently clapping her hands together.

"We knew you'd love it at Nevermore, Tormentita." Gomez brags "The flesh never falls far from the bone." as he continues his chess match with Thing.

"Yes well, it's not as if any other school in the country would admit me or be able to instruct me of anything new or useful to me. Why waste anyone's time." Not relishing in proving my parents right, I start walking up towards my bedroom.

"Darling, I suppose now would be as good a time as any to inform you of some new developments if you're set in returning." Mother says with my back to her. Turning around I see her looking at my father. "Mon cher, this is more your news than it is mine. You should tell Wednesday."

My father checkmates Thing and smirks "You almost had me old man. Next time." Thing shrugs and hops off to reach his magazine. Facing me he rubs his hands together "Do you remember your Aunt Dolores?" He asks

"Vaguely. She's not much older than me, but she was always busy with school."

"That's right, she's 25." My mother adds "She got her master's degree in phytology. Of course that was basically a formality, she's always known everything she'd ever need about plants."

"I still don't understand how she came to be. Mama Esmeralda and Papa Pancho must've been in their 50s when they had her, at the earliest." I ponder out loud.

"Oh both sides of your family have had abnormally long periods of fertility, Wednesday. Your Great-Grandmama Margaret, had my aunt Celia at 56 years old. Completely baffled the local doctor." Mother adds gleefully.

"Anyway, I bring this up because we've been notified that your Aunt Dolores will be joining you at Nevermore."

"How did that happen?"

"Well, as you know she had that big spat with my parents and ran off when she turned 15. She never really got to experience much time at that school, and despite everything she did love it so there. It was truly a pity I couldn't convince her to keep going there and not disappear on us. Fester tried to nab her and get her to see why they did what they did but to no avail."

"Understandable."

"We thought you'd feel that way." Mother smirks

"I meant more so how did she manage to get hired. They haven't even said they've gotten a new Headmaster or Mistress."

"The board would have to be riddled with complete fools if they pass up on Dolores, even despite her...muddled record." Mother says. She's always had an inexplicable soft spot for her little sister-in-law.

"What was their disagreement about anyway? I've never gotten a whole answer about that." I ask

"It would probably be best for you to ask her directly. We wouldn't want to speak for her." Father explains, shakily.

"Right then, what position will she be taking?" Noting how my father looked away and down when he said that

"The new herbology teacher. Oh, and your new house mother."

"Makes sense, the last one was an incompetent murderer. At least this time the teacher will be adequate. Thank you for letting me know. Will Pugsley be joining me as well?" Would be nice to practice my aim while still at school. He'd have a new selection of road signs to steal from.

"His grades aren't quite up to par, unfortunately." Mother grims "Rather like his Uncle Fester, brilliant but not booksmart."

"Pity. Will I be sent to school with Lurch, or will you two be dropping me off again?" I ask, waiting to turn around to finally get to the solitude of my bedroom.

"Actually Wednesday, you'll be carpooling with your aunt. She's bringing her own car so to not rely on buses and whatnot. She'll actually be fetching you a day or two earlier as she'll need to get situated."

"I thought she had an aversion to driving." I said, remembering how my father had tried to teach her to drive but my grandparents had already embittered her to the idea.

"She eventually got over it, not without struggle." My father winces "She got herself an old, red beetle and she's been using that little thing since she was 18. My parents were furious when they heard, of course I didn't let her know I'd told them. She wanted to be taken as dead to them."

"Can't wait to hear why from the source. When will she be coming?"

"Could you call Dolores about that, Darling? I have to see something about your brother and your father has a meeting to go to."

"A meeting? About what?" My father doesn't work really, not necessary for us.

"Some charity nonsense, I'm not entirely sure if I'm being honest. All I usually have to do is sign a check." My father explains, poorly.

"Fine, could I get her phone number?"

My mother scribbles down on a sheet her ten digits and sends me off. I'll finally have a use for Xavier's gift.

I shut my bedroom door and start looking for my cell phone, Thing has been using it to make a "TikTok" and "IG". I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes every time Enid would send him some asinine little video. I'm sure it's dead now as neither of us remembers to charge it. I find it in the dresser next to my bed, on 5% battery and 27 new text messages from Xavier.

******

I can hear her before I've even seen her. She came in her red Volkswagen Beetle, blaring music from its speakers. I'd hope she doesn't plan on maintaining that obnoxious volume, I can feel the migraine coming on already as she gets out to say hello. 

"Wednesday, looking as malcontent and gorgeous as always." with her ever present smirk on her lips. "Should I come in and say hey to the folks?"

"I'm sure they'd appreciate that, Mother hasn't stopped fawning about you since she knew you'd be my new teacher."

"Ugh, I've missed Tishy. I guess you'll wanna wait out here?"

"I'd prefer it."

"Here then," she hands me the keys, takes off her circular sunglasses and puts them on the neckline of her shirt "roll down the windows and do whatcha want. I'll be out in a few."

"Thank you, I'll be waiting. Thing will also be coming, just so you know."

"Aw, sweet. He owes me the story about the safe," She says, walking inside "besides I'll need me a few minutes to talk to Gomey and Morts about your new therapist situation."

My blood pressure rises immensely as a hear her last little blip.

"What are you referring to?"

She turns around to face me and looks more bemused by my expression than I'd like for her to be.

 "What? Did you think that just because you saved the outcast population of New England from a bigoted zombie, his inept however many 'greats' granddaughter and your ex-boyfriend that everyone would forget you almost killed that normie kid from your last school? Law still applies to ya, dollface. Even heroes need therapy." She says, with her hands on her hips.

"This is waste of time. It's not like therapy did much the first time around, besides get the therapist killed by one of her patients." I feel my grip around the keys start pinching into my fingers

"And shockingly that patient wasn't you." She quips, smirk still on her face before it relaxes slightly "Jesus kid, you're acting like therapy is an actual punishment. Your talking out your thoughts with someone for an hour, get over it." As she turns around to walk inside and Lurch comes out to put my bags in her car.

She waltzes out just as chipper 20 minutes later

"C'mon, we're going from Princeton to Killington, Vermont, with any luck we'll make good time and get there by this afternoon."

"Five hours isn't so bad."

"I'm not generally fond of being extended company."

"Oh please, this little ride along could end up being a nice time for you." She says, getting in the car and starting it "Did you already say bye to everyone?"

"Yes, and I doubt it."

"Dude are you always this much of a downer? Get in."

I get settled inside "This whole happy-go-lucky thing you're doing isn't making you any happier."

"Is that so?" We take off into the path by my home leading to the main road into town.

"Yes. Happiness, or at least satisfaction in my experience is an equation: reality - high expectations. If you expect people to disappoint you, experiences to be subpar and life in general to not excite you very much, then you're never really disappointed." I finish matter of factly.

"Is that really happiness then? Or even satisfaction, as you say?"

"Sure. Can't miss what I never thought I had."

"Spidey, a lot of life is what you make it. If you go to a party, or say, a long car ride, with the expectation or intention to have a bad time then you'll just go, be moody and have in fact, a bad time." She counters, putting her glasses back on to shield herself from the sun coming off the rear view mirror.

"So I'm either right or pleasantly surprised? Sounds good to me."

"It's bad vibes." She says flatly

"It's realistic vibes."

"Expecting everything to be bad all the time also isn't realistic, Wen. There are so many reasons to be optimistic."

"Are you serious?" I ask, knowing some of her past.

"Yes! Life can be a wonderful thing, especially when you're the one in control of how you're living it."

"I can't agree, the natural state of things is chaos. Violence, war, rape, murder, abuse. Eventually we all end up ashes or worm food, the sooner we contend with that fact the better it helps me linger in the good times." I say, diddling the charm on my bracelet with Nero's stinger.

"Wens how often do you think about death?"

"All the time."

"Your family's? Your friends?"

"Sometimes, and it upsets me."

"Christ."

"Oh deliberately his. You can't deny that most things just don't work out."

"The magic of pessimism." She says sarcastically

"Almost everyone is mediocre at almost everything they do. All relationships we have will end, in death or in life. The only way to feel satiated and move on is to lower your expectations and not let it get to you. Optimism is stupid."

"But the stupid, optimistic conviction that things can and will get better by making it so is what makes positive change possible in the first place. If everyone walked around being almost certain that everything's going to shit then what's the point of trying?"

"Trying to what?"

"Trying. Period. Just trying at anything. Trying to be cleaner, trying to be smarter, trying to be faster. There would be no clear point and everyone would just settle and progress would stall."

I can't deny this.

"Spidey, I get that pessimism can feel safer."

"It's not my personal well-being I'm concerned about."

"Isn't it? When was the last time you had real hope about anything? Not deterministic persistence, not stubbornness, not pettiness and not settling because hey this is as good as it's gonna get let's hope it doesn't get worse. Real, deep hope about something. Or, someone."

"I don't like how often you're turning your head to give me sideways glance."

"Wednesday."

"Isn't hope just blind faith in a nicer tone?" I ask

"Yes. Can you answer the question?"

"...I suppose I'd hoped that Eugene would recover despite the odds of surviving an explosion not being great."

"Eugene is the little beekeeper friend you made last term, right?"

"The entomopathist, yes."

"Okay, I guess that's a good example."

"I'm not hopeless, I'm just selective in where I put my energy or hope."

"So with the Hyde thing. We're you betting that Xavier Thorpe was the Hyde or we're you hoping he was so you could say you're a good judge of character."

"I didn't really think it had much to do with anyone's character at all. When I was under the impression that Xavier was the monster, I thought he was doing it without knowing it. Or that he was doing it unwillingly."

"Guess it was an ugly surprise when you found out Galpin relished in it."

It bothers me how well she can gage me despite not having spent much time with me recently.

Most of the information she has must be second hand and yet she's reaching accurate conclusions. We're obviously related, we look enough alike where it's clear by just looking. Not exactly of course but she's small, only two inches taller than me and wears big shoes to compensate for it. Her hair also helps. A big, curly inch of her skull. But still, black hair, black eyes, and her skin is the color mine would be if my vitamin D deficiency didn't leave me with the grey cast palor I like now. A warm tan brown like Father.

"It was unsettling. Albeit certainly made my first kiss memorable."

"I'm sure. Mine was a shit show."

"What? Did the guy have braces and they got caught in yours?" I ask sarcastically, knowing her attempt as sympathizing won't measure up.

"No. His teeth were perfectly straight and white. He'd long past the age where braces would look acceptable."

"Couldn't have been that bad." I shrug off

"He forced it on me."

"...and I'm assuming you broke his teeth in retribution." I add

"Not even close. In the position I was in at the time it would've completely fucked my life up, I showed some disgust and that was enough for me to get a stern 'talking to' from my parents."

"This has something to do with why you ran off."

"Yeah. Well, this and a ton of other shit I don't wanna get into, no use dwelling on what's done." She mutters that last part.

"I'm never having kids."

"Pfft, me neither kid. Pregnancy and childbirth alone sound like a Lovecraftian nightmare."

"Hm...well when you phrase it like that..."

We spent most of the ride in relative silence, her music making so that it's not completely quiet but clearly neither of us felt like speaking. She let me control the music for a few hours and surprisingly, she introduced me to new music I actually enjoyed. Genres I'd written off and artists I'd misjudged. I found that I can enjoy some pop, like Shakira's older sound. My aunt is also obviously angrier than she'd like to seem, given how taken away she got by She Wants Revenge. We stopped once for a bathroom break and coffee at a small coffee shop in New Paltz ironically called The Bakery. As eye-roll inducing as the name is the coffee was good and the bathrooms were clean, so we couldn't complain much. She was nice enough to pay. "I'm your aunt and the adult" and other such nonsense being the excuse. Around half way through the ride I pick up my cell phone and text two people to let them know I'm coming. Enid, as we're still rooming together and I wanted to make sure she kept her My Little Pony adjacent decor on her side, and Xavier. Might give him a chance to get his explanation clear about these messages. Altogether the ride went by much quicker than I expected. We'd headed out at 5:04 am that morning and got to the school at 9:50 am. Of course she drives like a mad woman constantly surpassing the speed limit, only pausing for a second at stop signs and hardly getting any red lights helps. Impressive that her car hasn't been totaled.

"So when are the rest of us meeting your aunt?" Enid asks over FaceTime while I unpack, I hadn't realized she wouldn't be at the school for another two days.

"The day you get here, I suppose. Unless you've other plans. I'd introduce you to her now on this call but she's in her room working on the lesson plan, I believe."

"Than to hang out with my bestie and her super cool aunt? Never. Well, except maybe spend some quality time with Ajax."

"Good to know he's still doing well with you."

"Total gentleman, no complaints here. He's been a little worried about Xavier though. I know he's a little moody, tortured artist persona and all. But during the break he barely communicated with Jax, or anyone else as far as I know."

As far as you know is a good way to phrase it, Enid. She doesn't need to know about his messages to me, I'm not even sure how to take them myself. The only thing he responded to me after my text was "Oh, cool."

"I let him know I was on my way here this morning, I didn't get a very enthusiastic responce from. Figured that was just his nature over text." Not even close

"Really? That's surprising. I thought if anyone could get more outta him it'd be you."

"Why's that?"

"No one believes you're that oblivious, Wednesday. His not-so-subtle crush on you? Maybe that's why?"

"Maybe the events last year sobered him up and he got over it."

"Or he's just depressed."

"Also possible. Not necessarily our business though, is it?"

"I mean, it kinda is. We're his friends and all, and most of us know what it's like to not have a whole hell of a lot of support at home. He needs to get it from somewhere." She clarifies

"Wasn't his father with him during this break?"

"Ha, yeah. I'm sure he was a whole lotta help." She says sarcastically

"Wasn't he? Xavier could've died last term." I point out

"Hm, I'm not sure that's all that important to the all too busy Vincent Thorpe."

"Well, that's mildly upsetting."

"Yeah, you could say that. I know he and I aren't close but I know what it's like to feel like the family you were born into isn't the one you're supposed to be in. At least sometimes." I can empathize with that. My parents are the epitome of present, supportive parents. Almost to a fault, that's what makes it strange. In my eyes, they border on intrusive sometimes, and lacking physical boundaries most times.

"I understand. Do you know if he's an only child?"

"Good question. I'll ask Ajax, I'm not sure. I know his mom wasn't his first wife so it's a possibility he's not. Well, I have my flight at 1:00 am tonight so I gotta get going. See ya in the morning, Bestie."

"Goodbye Enid, have a safe flight.”

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/50759830">Well Then</a> (69569 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliTerren">AliTerren</a> Chapters: 13/20 Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Wednesday%20(TV%202022)">Wednesday (TV 2022)</a> Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Wednesday Addams & Xavier Thorpe, Wednesday Addams/Xavier Thorpe, Xavier Thorpe & Wednesday Addams, Xavier Thorpe/Wednesday Addams, Xavier Thorpe/Original Female Character(s), Xavier Thorpe and Original Female Character(s), Wednesday Addams/Original Female Character(s), Tyler Galpin/Original Female Character(s), Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair, Ajax Petropolus/Enid Sinclair, Ajax Petropolus & Xavier Thorpe, Wednesday Addams & Original Female Character Characters: Xavier Thorpe, Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Original Non-Human Character(s), Ajax Petropolus, Eugene Ottinger, Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams, Tyler Galpin, Donovan Galpin, Garrett Gates, Marilyn Thornhill | Laurel Gates, Vincent Thorpe Additional Tags: Mildly Dubious Consent, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Wednesday is soft for Xavier, Xavier Thorpe is Whipped, POV Xavier Thorpe, POV Wednesday Addams, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Xavier Thorpe Needs a Hug, Xavier Thorpe switch, Jealous Wednesday Addams, Pining, Yearning, Lonely Xavier Thorpe, Smut, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, Fantasizing, Prophetic Visions, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Xavier Thorpe Has Daddy Issues, Xavier Thorpe has Mommy Issues, Xavier Thorpe has a praise kink, Discussion of sexual assault, Discussion of rape kits, succubi, Demonic Possession, Demonic Sacrifice, soul eating, Bisexual Wednesday Addams, Creepy Tyler Galpin, wet dreams, Our season 2, Subby Xavier Thorpe, Sub Xavier Thorpe Summary: New term has started, with it comes new people, new feelings and new duties. Let’s hope the unresolved doesn’t get in the way.(This might be a part one, might make sequels. Also, take this as season 2 if you also miss having Xavier in the show.)

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ettawritesnstudies · 1 year ago

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You look like a really happy and supportive person, do you have any tips about dealing with resentment esp. against other writers? It's something I'm noticing a lot in the community and other spaces I participate. Everybody treats it like it's righteous anger but it feels toxic. The moment they see someone thriving, the person gets hate mail and someone finds an excuse to bring them down. I guess people have reason to be hurt because everything feels hard and unfair right now. I'm also from a fucked-up third world country, I'm queer, my life feels stuck where it was before the pandemic, I can't get a job and I worry what it'll be like for me 10 years from now. But I kept saying to myself it wasn't so bad because it's really worse for so many people where I live and I tried to be upbeat... But then I saw a writer I know irl get published and I noticed I was feeling and thinking the same way those people I disliked act online. Angry at them for getting published when I don't have the skill or the luck for it. What do we do when that happens? Sorry if this is a pessimistic ask

Hey anon,

First of all, I'm really really sorry you're going through that, it sounds like a bad situation and I hope you can find some peace and stability soon. If it means anything, I'll be praying for you. <3 <3 <3

It's really hard to keep a positive outlook on things when other things in your life aren't working out. As you said, everything feels hard and unfair right now and you can't be blamed for feeling pessimistic and bitter about the way things are going for you. It's easy for me to act cheery because I'm blessed to be in a good situation with a good support network, and I'm aware that's something a lot of people don't have. You're incredibly strong for dealing with this and I'm proud of you for both surviving and trying not to let this bitterness affect the way you interact with the writing community. That's a testament to your good character and you're someone I'd like to have as a friend.

I think the biggest thing that's helped me not get bitter about other people's success is the "Holy shit, two cakes!" mindset.

I think this was made by @stuffman originally if "know your meme" tells true.

Life is a dessert table. Some people don't even like cake - some people are bringing brownies, cookies, tortes, pastries, jello puddings, fruit baskets, or whatever else suits their fancy. Chocolate cake ain't the same as lemon no matter which way you slice it.

Other writers aren't competition - everyone has their own voice and themes and stories to bring to the table. At the end of the day, I'm not trying to win over romance and grimdark true crime readers, and even within my own genre, if people like reading similar stories then they'll probably enjoy mine. A while ago I looked for comp titles to runaways and found a bunch of books that lit up all the same keywords with "sisters", "changelings," "seelie and unseelie courts", but they were nothing like the story I was trying to tell. I loved them all the same. Your words are important and meaningful and I hope this discouragement doesn't keep you from practicing your craft.

As far as publishing luck and money and time and skill goes: yeah the industry kind of sucks right now, there's no changing that. It might suck that you're not published yet, but hold onto that "yet". It's important. Hope keeps you striving, even if progress is stagnating at the moment. It's served me well through so many semesters slogging through engineering school when I didn't put a word to paper in months.

Helping other people can a tactical decision. I'm not published yet, nowhere near it. I started this tumblr (and the rest of my platform) for the sake of marketing and networking. One could argue I chat with the likes of @ashen-crest, @abalonetea, and @author-a-holmes for purely selfish reasons - if I help them out, hopefully they'll help me when the time comes. Maybe that's how it starts sometimes, but over time those connections become friendships so easily when people just want to tell stories together. I didn't have a lot of people to talk about my writing with when I was younger and I make no exaggeration when I say the community here on writeblr changed my life.

Friends make going through this painful slog of a life so much easier. I can't count the number of times I've cried in this past week about how fortunate I am to have so many people supporting me. From my sister who listened to my rambles off the top bunk every night, to my best friends in high school who helped me develop the bones of my world, to my college roommates and partners in crime who encouraged me to be more vocal about my work, to my boyfriend who patiently stood in lines for me at a book festival, to @siarven my first acquaintance here on writeblr 4 years ago, who I finally get to meet in person in a couple weeks. Maybe it sounds a little fairytales, but kindness truly does repay kindness seven times seven times over.

I'll keep writing my little fairytales. I believe in them. I hope you do too.

#ask answered #etta rambles #writeblr #the writeblr community #not to get sentimental on main but I love y'all #I'm sorry this is an essay and a half I hope it helps

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neoculturetravesty · 4 years ago

Text

We met in online class - Part 6

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, some fluff, lots of angst in this part Warnings: Strong language, descriptions of stress and anxiety, fist fight Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: Buckle up for some angst.

They say when it rains, it pours and Renjun was about to learn the true meaning of this expression.

Throughout his college life, Renjun had heard his share of praise from his professors who would tell him that he was gifted in a way not many artists were. But now that the career drives and job fairs had begun, Renjun learnt that at best, he was average. In the real world, he wasn’t ‘golden hands’ or gifted or anything like it--he was just one in a line of millions. Because in the bigger picture, Renjun’s competition was not just people in his school; he was competing with even better artists from even better universities that had even better skills and even better means. His design professor had very plainly told the class one day that out of all of them, maybe one or two would ‘make it’ in the real world, if they got lucky. So Renjun knew that if had to shut up anyone who ever doubted him, compete with the best and place anywhere solid by the time he graduated, he needed to land a stellar internship.

Not that his current internship was going any better. Renjun learnt that even small studios were a handful and that an internship basically meant being an errand boy. When he had taken on the job, he had fantasized about meeting exciting artists and maybe even helping the chief curate his best work yet. But more often than not, he found that he was sweeping the place down, and if he got lucky, he got to make a few calls to potential clients (who would yell at him before hanging up).

And of course, like any self-respecting college that thrived on the student body’s mental health deterioration, the professors weren’t going any easier on the projects, even with the impending exams.

On top of everything that was happening, Renjun had developed a constant tension in his neck and shoulders. Jaemin reckoned it was because Renjun was hunched over his paintings all the time as he followed the perfect lighting all over the apartment. You, on the other hand, reckoned it was because of all the stress.

“You’re just carrying a lot of anxiety on these gangster shoulders, Huang Renjun.” you had said as you kneaded your knuckles into his hurt one day as you brought him food. Lately, you had taken it upon yourself to make sure that Renjun was eating and staying hydrated through these pressure cooker times. Because when he was left to his own devices, eating would be pretty low on his priority list, simply because he did not have the time for meals. So you’d bring him a snack any time you saw him on campus, and when you didn’t see him, you’d get something delivered to him and if you couldn’t, you’d text him a reminder to eat. But as one would have it during end-of-semester madness, Renjun had received your food more than your company. Because truth be told, you were just as occupied.

Renjun hadn’t seen enough of you in what he was sure was now going to be a good two weeks running because you had way too much on your plate as well. Like Renjun, you too were swarmed by assignments and exams. But other than that, any time he did see you, you were ‘interview dressed’ for all the on-campus drives that were happening in your department. Renjun had come to wish you good luck on one of them and had seen how distracted you looked because apparently, you had pulled some all-nighters to prepare for this. Donghyuck had been the one to tell Renjun about this little bit.

Because when you weren’t studying or giving interviews or working on projects, you were preparing to throw an end-of-semester party with Donghyuck. He had to admit, there had been moments where Renjun had been irritated that Donghyuck would know more about what was happening in your life than did he. But then again, who was to blame for that?

Renjun knew it was no one’s fault but his own. Because that’s the dumb precedent he had set from the very beginning--that he wouldn’t get too close. He was paying that price for it because somewhere along the way, you had begun to confide in Donghyuck more than in Renjun, though this development was gradual and subconscious. He supposed that since you had met him, some part of you had learnt that she was walking into a wall anytime things got deep with Renjun. And there are only so many times that people were willing to walk into walls before they learnt their lesson.

Renjun knew that you were always ready to provide emotional support. But he also saw that when you were the one that needed it, you were subconsciously turning to Donghyuck rather than to him.

And because you weren’t doing so consciously, Renjun couldn’t even be upset with you. Who was he to be upset with you over it in the first place? He had spent all those weeks skillfully blocking you. So, just because he had changed his mind now didn’t mean that he could earn your vents right away. It would take some effort on his part and he acknowledged that.

But it wasn’t you hanging out with Donghyuck that bothered him. It was someone else.

Wong Hendery, it appeared, was always around you these days and for some reason, that really bothered Renjun. You had a lot of friends. You were just the kind of person who made friends wherever you went. His own friends were an example. Lately, any time he ran into his roommates in the living room or kitchen (since all of them were buried in work otherwise), they would inquire about you instead of him. You just made a lot of friends and that was a fact of life that Renjun lived with. And whilst so far, Renjun had been okay with all of them, he had no idea why seeing Wong Hendery around you made him feel some type of way.

And in the strangest turn of events, he had even found himself subtly voicing this to you a couple of times. It had bothered him even more that you had never taken him seriously any time he brought it up. You had either been distracted or disinterested whenever this came up. Or perhaps you had very tactfully been avoiding the subject. You weren’t exactly the scheming type, so Renjun was sure it wasn’t that. All he knew was that at the end of it, he would just end up feeling stupid, because, well… it was a stupid, baseless feeling to have, whatever this was.

All in all, Renjun couldn’t tell what matter it was from the pillage that kept his mood sour these days. His failure in the job fairs, his increasing workload, the impending exams, his lackluster internship, or something else. He recognized that a big part of it had to do with not seeing you enough. He wasn’t going to be the idiot that denied that anymore. Since the party at your parent’s house, he hadn’t had a moment with you where it was just the two of you and you could talk about… well, the two of you. Not seeing you enough was making him sour, he knew that. However, not seeing you enough combined with the fact that Wong Hendery was around you all the time was probably pretty up there as a reason for his bad moods.

The only upside in the end-of-semester times was that the damn virus seemed to be under control. Students could now more freely move about and a lot more cafes and parks had reopened. So, at the very least, Renjun could get a change of scenery whilst he painted or studied because he was getting tired of his apartment and the library and the damn studio.

Today, he had just grabbed his things and sent you a very persuasive text, because really, enough was enough. Yes, you were both very busy. Yes, you didn’t have any time today. But you could at least give him one study date out in the sun, and finally, for the first time in two weeks, he had felt that happiness in his chest when you told him you’d come.

The two of you sat by the river as Renjun sketched and made notes and you typed away on your laptop. Your hair was done up in a bun and you wore the campus hoodie and you didn’t even look up from your work when Renjun leaned over to feed you some rice. It had made Renjun smile. You looked like every boy’s fantasy of a college girlfriend but thinking about it also made his heart a tiny bit heavy. Because after all this time, the two of you still hadn’t had that conversation. Come to think of it, the two of you hadn’t even kissed ever since that afternoon in the strawberry fields. And maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t sat with you like this in a couple of weeks, or maybe it was seeing you share your time with other people. But Renjun felt that he had to address the some elephant in the room sooner rather than later. Because he didn’t want a some relationship any longer. He wanted more.

“No one’s going to be happier than me when this semester is over.” you mutter as you chew onto whatever Renjun had fed you.

“You and me both. Let’s celebrate our freedom together when it ends.” Renjun suggests as he sits up to stretch his neck.

“Done deal.” You look up from your laptop to give him a fist bump.

“Hey, I was thinking…” Renjun hesitates. “Let’s go somewhere together. After the semester is over.” He feels butterflies in his stomach even as he asks you that. And he knows why. Because this is the first time he’s asking you for a real date, where he wants to take you out for your company, no opportunistic strings attached. But also, he wants to take you away from everyone else where he would have all of your attention and he could finally tell you how he really feels.

You smile as you shuffle your notes. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere. We could go to the beach and go mudflat fishing. If that’s not your thing, we could go camping instead.”

You finally look at him and smile an undistracted, attentive smile. “I’d like that.”

Renjun looks at you softly as he returns your smile. “My exams end before yours. Let’s go right after your last exam.”

“Oh, I can’t go then.” You say, shaking your head quickly.

“Why?”

“Haechan and I are hosting the end-of-semester, remember?” you remind him and Renjun holds himself back before he could exhale over ‘Haechan and I’.

“Okay, how about the day after?” Renjun asks.

“I can’t go then, either. Hendery and I have to go visit the tower.” you tell him.

This time, Renjun can’t hold back. Because ‘Hendery and I’ was way, way worse than ‘Haechan and I’. Before he could stop himself, he finds himself commenting

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Wong Hendery, huh?” he hadn’t meant for that hint of accusation to lace his tone, but it had come out that way.

“Ughhhh, tell me about it. He says he’d basically be happy never seeing me again once all of this is over.” you say as you steal his bowl of rice and begin stuffing your face. Renjun feels that irritation again because as always, you seem to be blowing this topic off. But for some reason, he doesn’t want to let it go today.

“I just don’t trust him.” Renjun says and he finds himself clenching his jaw a little.

You look at him from above the rice and smile amusedly. “Why though? He’s a cool dude.”

“I don’t know. There’s just something about him. I just… I don’t know, I guess it’s a guy’s instinct.” he says, and like anytime he has brought up this subject before, he’s feeling incredibly dumb.

You raise an eyebrow and look away from him. You don’t seem very impressed by the comment. “Nah, he’s super cool and all of that. You can meet him if you like.” you say in a tone that is way too nonchalant for Renjun’s liking.

He had met him before, of course. But he didn’t know Wong Hendery even if he did know Wong Hendery. So how could he tell you that the man was bad news based on just a feeling? ‘He’s using you! Why don’t you see that he’s using you!’ Renjun wanted to yell at you. But he says something else.

“Just, like… I don’t know. He just seems mysterious and unsharing.” Renjun tries to explain.

“So are you.”

There is a moment of silence as Renjun feels a sting and you look at him with no expression.

You were right.

Renjun hadn’t shared anything about himself with you. The things you knew about him was information you had probably collected through his friends. The only time he had really opened up to you was that one night in his room. Suddenly, more than irritation, he feels angry with himself.

What a stupid, stupid, stupid idea it had been to set those dumbass rules with you. How had he expected it would pan out? How did he think he could use you as a means to an end, but not learn anything about you or give away anything about himself? He hadn’t thought this through at all. Then again, he hadn’t expected for it to go on this long; and he most certainly hadn’t expected that he would end up falling for you.

“I just… I don’t trust him around you.” Renjun admits and this time, he has the decency to sound a little ashamed.

“I know how to take care of myself, Renjun.” you tell him quietly.

Renjun looks away because for the first time since he’s known you, you’ve spoken to him that way. He wants to scream and pull his hair because no. You don’t. You don’t know how to take care of yourself. How could he tell you that you weren’t the best judge of character? How could he tell you that you allowed people around you to take advantage of you?

‘It’s why you’re sitting here with me’ Renjun thinks with another sting. He knew Hendery was up to no good with you because he himself had been one of those people that used you for their own gain. He had used your kind heart and your willingness to see the good in people for his own stupid plan. The stupid, dumbass, flawed plan that he hadn’t thought through in the slightest. He had thought he had, because Renjun always assumed he was smarter than everyone in any room. That was probably his dumbest yet most defining trait; as kindheartedness was yours.

As if to add insult to injury, your phone rings and Wong Hendery’s name shines cockily onto your screen, mocking Renjun in all its glory.

“Hey, are you here?” you say as you pick up. You look around till you spot him and wave at him “Okay, coming!”

Renjun looks to where you had signaled and sees Hendery in his bigass car. He notices Renjun looking, waves at him and smiles.

Renjun’s eyes close and he takes in a deep breath as you begin collecting your things. He doesn’t know why he’s being this way. He had been jealous before; he was an openly bitter person, that much he knew about himself. He despised every other asshole that did better than him. But this was a kind of jealousy he had never really experienced before. He wanted to protect you, but he also wanted to keep you… because now, he could feel you slipping away from him.

“I’ll call you, okay? Make sure you eat dinner.” your voice sounds a little resigned and suddenly, Renjun feels his heart drop. It’s a strange feeling, but there it is in the pit of his stomach. Renjun realizes that the feeling really closely resembled fear. And it’s because you’re leaving like this.

Had this been your first fight? Maybe it had. It hadn’t felt like a fight, because Renjun has fought with a lot of people before, and this was nothing like that. There was no screaming, no gaslighting, no accusations. But it was the tone you had taken with him. Like you were disappointed. Like you expected better. You had never taken that tone with him before. So as you stand up to walk away, Renjun grabs your hand. He looks up from where he sits.

“Hey…” his heart is sinking, he has this awful feeling in his chest and now he no longer knows what to say to keep you. So he brings your knuckles to his lips and presses into them for a few moments before he looks back at you. “Are we good?” He wants to kiss you, he wants to take you in his arms and kiss you and know that nothing has changed. But he knows that Wong Hendery is sitting right there and he doesn’t want you to think that he’s putting on a show of jealous, testosterone fueled possession.

He watches as your face softens. You crouch so your face is levelled with his. You keep holding your bag that’s slung over your shoulder with one hand. With the other, you gently hold onto his cheek and lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“We’re good.” you say and you smile and then you lift back up to turn around.

Renjun watches unmoving as you walk away from him and drive off with Wong Hendery. He keeps watching till the car makes a turn and disappears from view.

Though you had told him that you were good, that sinking feeling hasn’t left his chest. Because Renjun realizes that what you had done had felt a lot like a goodbye kiss.

Renjun doesn’t get time to dwell on his aching heart too much, because soon after, exams begin.

It is as if a lull had taken over the entire campus. Everyone around him had their heads down as they studied and slept and slept to study. Jeno and Jaemin had taken over the living room table as they crammed and kept each other awake through their all-nighters. Jisung would try to take some motivation from them but the boy had never been too fond of studying, so he’d end up asleep on the couch whilst Jeno and Jaemin took the floor. Even Donghyuck--who had insofar made it through college based on pure intelligence--could be seen bent over his notes in the library. For a week, each student on campus had a similar schedule; like someone had hit the pause button on everything else in life.

Perhaps it had been the exam stress. Perhaps it was everything that was happening culminating in Renjun’s mind, but that sinking feeling hadn’t completely dissipated from his chest. He had no way to explain what it was or why it was. But if Renjun had to describe it, it was as if a sixth sense was warning him. What the warning was about, he had no idea.

But as fate would have it, Renjun’s hardships were only beginning. Because right before his first exam, he had received a call from his mother.

He had picked up because this had been maybe her third phone call to him this entire year. But two minutes into the call, Renjun wished he hadn’t.

Questions were asked as if out of duty: if he was still in school, if he was still living with his friends, if he was looking for a job. And though Renjun hadn’t even asked for it--how she couldn’t send him money for the next couple of months because the Covid situation wasn’t doing any wonders for their restaurant. Although the conversation hadn’t even lasted a full 10 minutes, Renjun’s mind was fully fucked by the end of it. Why the fuck did she have to play with his head like this, just when he was about to go in for an exam?

He shouldn’t have been surprised. His mother had a way of sensing any time her son was emotionally strained, because she would always show up right on time to add to his burden. This is how it had been most of his life. She would appear usually when Renjun was at his lowest and remind him that he was a useless fucker that nobody cared about. And because she was his mother, she knew exactly what buttons to press to positively fuck him over.

Fuck this. None of it was fair. It wasn’t fair that she had called him after months and months. It wasn’t fair that she didn’t even want to know how he was doing. A global pandemic had turned the world upside down and she didn’t even want to know if her son was surviving through it. She just wanted to call to give him another reminder that she couldn’t take care of him. Fuck that. Fuck her. Fuck everything. Renjun didn’t need her or his father or anyone else ever again. Fuck all of it.

Renjun had hung up bitterly and that should’ve been the end of it. But for some reason, she had kept calling after that, which made Renjun throw his phone against a wall. Fuck that. She doesn’t get to call him to rub more salt to his wounds. He wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction.

It’s funny how when you’re truly feeling fucked, you tend to isolate yourself from the people who really care about you. And that’s what Renjun ended up doing following that phone call. Almost as if in self-sabotage, he started avoiding everyone and hid himself away. Because no way did anyone really need him, anyway. Renjun knew that even in his friend group, he was the one the others could do without.

Jeno and Jaemin had one another. They would babysit Jisung well enough, and when they didn’t, Jisung had Zhong Chenle. His housemates didn’t really need him, so hiding from them was easy. Lately, he had also stopped hanging out with Yangyang because he was afraid he’d run into Hendery. Lee Mark hadn’t really hung out with him ever since he joined the 127s. And Donghyuck… well, he had you.

So even you could do without him. You had been doing just fine without him these past couple of weeks. You had still been bringing him snacks, even after that study date. But Renjun wondered if that was because of your bad, kind habit rather than anything else. Truth be told, Renjun didn’t want your snacks anymore. Because each time he got them, it reminded him that he was nothing special to you. He wasn’t any different to you than Jaemin or Jeno or Donghyuck. He was just another guy that you were kind to out of habit. Fuck that. He didn’t need your kindness, or anyone else’s. He was fine on his own.

But on the night after his last exam, he finally picked up the phone he had thrown and read his messages through his cracked phone screen. Just to see if someone missed him. As expected, no one did. But there were some messages from you.

‘Hey shoulder gangster, remember to put on pain patches before you sleep!’

‘I ordered some chicken for you guys, eat well and study well.’

‘Hey, I tried calling you. I had gotten you coffee, but I couldn’t find you so now hyuckie is drinking it.’

‘Ayo. I hope your exam went well. Sending some Chinese food over, so eat before you study!’

‘Hey, Jaemin told me your phone is busted. Idk if you’re gonna see this message, but just wanted to know you’re doing well.’

‘I tried to see you before you went in for your exam but Jeno said you had already left.’

‘Hey… I hope you’re not still upset with me. I’m gonna stop bothering you so we can both study, but I’ll come see you soon.’

‘Okay, I guess i’ll see you after exam week? Meet soon.’

That was the last of it. After that, you hadn’t sent him anything at all. Even you had stopped reaching out to him.

It seemed that when it came down to it, no one would ever fight for Renjun. No one would want to find out why he was in hiding, or why he hadn’t replied. When worst came to worst, Renjun was always left to fend for himself. He was all alone in this world.

Jeno and Jaemin would always know what the other was feeling without having to use the words. Neither of them had to explain to the other what was on their mind. They just… knew. When one was in trouble, the other would come running. When one was down, the other would pick him up. Neither had to ask; the other would just sense it and be there. Jisung and Chenle had a similar connection.

But no one ever sensed Renjun’s heart. No one just knew when he was sad or upset or angry or in trouble. No one would pick him up because no one loved him enough to know his mind. No one had ever paid any real attention to him to know when he was struggling. No one had ever held his hand and taken him out of his despair. No one would even notice that he was in despair. Because he wasn’t anyone’s special anything.

He had been hiding away for an entire week and no one had even noticed his absence. No one had called in to check on him. Because no one really needed him. Not his friends, not his family. Not even you.

They say when it rains, it pours, and Renjun was about to learn the true meaning of this phrase. Because just when he is about to put his phone away, he receives a text from his mother.

‘Renjun, I didn’t want to tell you this way. But you’re not picking up my calls. Come see me. Your father and I are getting a divorce.’

Renjun had never really been a big drinker. He’d drink some with the boys every now and then. But that was it. But tonight was an exception. Tonight, it was okay to turn to the drink. Tonight, he wanted to forget.

After the kind of day he had had, he thought that even his demons could give him a break. He felt drained. Like his mind was slowly giving up and his body was doing all the heavy lifting. Putting one foot in front of the other. Making him breathe in and out. Keeping his heart beating. It would be doing his mind a favor, drinking. His mind needed numbing, then maybe his body could follow.

He walks into the bar a broken man. And he wonders if that’s how all men are when they walk into bars. Maybe that’s why men who walk into bars make such good punchlines for jokes. He certainly felt like one. Because the people that should love him seemed to treat him like one. Who was he to think any better of himself?

He had made peace with the fact that his parents never wanted him. He had accepted that they were happy to get rid of him. Then why did he still expect their love every single time? What was it that made him go running to them any time they asked? Why had he expected that somehow visiting them would fix everything?

Had he expected that they would sit him down and peacefully explain why they were parting ways? Of course, he hadn’t. Had he expected that his mother would cry and apologize for putting him through this? Of course, he hadn’t. Had he expected that his father would own up to his mistakes and call him his son? Of course, he hadn’t.

But he also hadn’t expected that neither of them would want anything to do with him after they parted ways. He hadn’t expected to be the collateral damage of a failed marriage that neither party was willing to own. He hadn’t expected to be summoned just so his parents could have a screaming match about whose son he’d be after they divorced. And that both would want to shift that burden to the other.

It suited them, Renjun thinks as he downs whatever the bartender had handed him. It would’ve been more unsettling to have made the trip to find something understanding and amiable. This was on-brand for them. This is how it had been since he was a child. They’d fight and Renjun would be collateral damage. This was the perfect ending to their twenty-one year old saga. Renjun had expected it.

So, why was he feeling like he had lost everything?

“Huang Renjun?” he hears a voice call out to him as if from miles away. Was he drowning? Then why did he feel like he couldn’t breathe? Why did the voices around him sound like they were coming from far away?

“Yoo Jimin.” Renjun finds himself automatically answering. He looks up and let’s his eyes focus and there he finds her. He smiles. Of course. Who else would’ve been the guest of honor in his pity party?

“What are you doing here?” she asks him and Renjun finds himself making a face.

“Drinking.” he says as he lifts up his shot glass.

“Did you follow me here?” she asks cryptically. Typical. Of course everything had to be about her.

“How would I know you’d be here?” Renjun says, looking away as he downs another shot.

“I told everyone at the party I was leaving to be here.” she says and her eyebrow is cocked as she comes closer.

“Party?”

“Haechan’s party? All your friends were there. Weren’t you there?” she asks cautiously.

Ah, yes, the party. The end-of-semester party. Here he was, drinking his pain away. And his friends, the people who should be concerned about him were partying. It was all very fitting he supposed. This perfectly fit into everything in his life at this moment. Including the fact the Yoo Jimin had been the one to find him when he was at his lowest.

“I didn’t feel like a party.” Renjun replies.

Jimin scoffs. “Typical. Of course Huang Renjun thinks he’s above a party everyone would enjoy.”

Renjun doesn’t answer. It’s an annoying remark and part of him wonders why it is irking him so. His heart was burdened by bigger things. Perhaps his mind thought that being annoyed at Yoo Jimin was an easier emotion to address. This was an emotion he understood. It was an emotion he could process right away. So he turns to her and finds her sitting on the stool next to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, because really. Why is she here, talking to him, sitting next to him?

“Oh, don’t worry, Renjun. I’m only waiting for someone.” she says, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair.

“You can wait for someone over there.” Renjun points to a place far away with his glass.

“Okay, you don’t have to be an asshole. I just came in to see why you were drinking alone while all your friends are at that party.” she says and now more than agitation, Renjun feels anger.

“Why do you care if I drink alone, anyway? You’re the one that broke up with me.” he spits out.

“Renjun, seriously, what is your problem? I’m only trying to be nice to you. You don’t have to come for me like that.” Jimin’s eyebrows are high on her forehead as she matches Renjun’s tone.

“Well, thanks a lot, Yoo Jimin. Thank you for your gift of empathy, but I don’t really need it. Not after everything you did to me.”

“Renjun! Seriously, what is it that I did to you? What did I do to you?” she raises her voice in agitation.

“Well, other than abandoning me? Pretending that you were happy with me then pulling the rug from under my feet and breaking up with me? Not even waiting a month before moving on?” Renjun spits venom right back. Who did she think she was, coming here and speaking to him like that?

“Jesus Christ, Renjun. Would you listen to yourself? Does it ever occur to you that you could’ve been the asshole in this relationship? That maybe I broke up with you because you were the jerk?” Jimin’s face is contoured as she yells at him. It’s good that the bar is relatively full, otherwise this could’ve been a scene.

“I was nothing but nice to you. I treated you so well and you treated me like dirt!” Renjun hisses.

“Renjun, that’s your problem! You only see the faults in others and never in yourself! But you’re not ready for that conversation, so let’s not have it!” she yells and turns away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, no, by all means, let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about all the times I mistreated you, please.” Renjun mocks. He was already too used to being gaslighted by his parents. Jimin could join that club. This was already the worst day of his life. It couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Renjun, this! This right here. You never respected me. You never treated me like an equal. With you, I always felt like some stupid, airheaded trophy. I always felt like everything I wanted was superficial and shallow and not worth anything!”

“And whose fault is that.” Renjun laughs darkly.

“Renjun, you can’t even see what you’re doing! You just think you’re so much better than everyone else! You think everyone around you is a degenerate and that you’re the smartest person to ever walk this earth. I can’t believe I let you treat me that way for so long.” Jimin’s hands go from balling into fists to animatedly helping her point. “Renjun, I wanted to be a model for the longest time. But I didn’t, because of you! Because every time I’d post a picture on my Instagram, you’d tell me it was because I love getting validation from strangers. Every time an agent reached out to me, you’d tell me how showing off my looks wasn’t going to be a long lasting career. You just never respected me or my aspirations. Because all of them were so beneath Mr. Intellectual.”

Renjun turns away. He pours himself another shot and downs it. He didn’t want a lecture. Who was she to show up like this and give him a lecture unprovoked?

“If it weren’t for Jongin, I would’ve believed everything you ever said to me. That people would only like me for my looks. That what I wanted to do was superficial and shallow and that I would never amount to anything if I followed my heart.” she goes on and Renjun has had enough.

“Save it, Jimin. We’re broken up now, so what does it matter?” he doesn’t look at her. She could yell at him all she wanted. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

“I only came to you because I saw you drinking alone. And I know that’s not like you. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.” her voice has lowered significantly, but the agitation hasn’t left her tone. Renjun wonders if she has more to say, because he certainly doesn’t want to listen to any more.

“Well, that’s very kind of you, but I’m fine on my own.” he says coldly, still not looking at her.

Jimin sighs. “Renjun, when will you realize that the whole world isn’t out to get you? I know your family isn’t perfect. But you’ve got friends that care about you. You’ve got people around you that love you. If only you could stop being an asshole to them for one hot minute and see that.”

Renjun still doesn’t turn. Because she doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t know his life. She doesn’t know how alone he feels. She doesn’t know jackshit about what he goes through, what he has been going through. Who is she to comment on his life and stand there like that and lecture him? She didn’t know anything. Fuck her for making him feel like he was the asshole. The world was taking a giant dump on him, and she was making him feel like he was the asshole. Fuck that.

She grabs her purse and gets off the stool. “I’ve got to go now. I just hope you feel better. Whatever it is that you’re going through. Please don’t go through it alone, Renjun.” she says before she walks away.

Renjun feels a lump in his throat. How could he not go through it alone? Who was going to be by his side? No one. So what use were his tears? He wouldn’t let them fall. He swallows that lump away, and when it doesn’t work, he takes another shot. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He could just go home and sleep. Maybe that would work. The alcohol wasn’t numbing anything. It was just making him more bitter, but for more reasons than what he had come in with.

So he finds himself walking home. Putting one foot in front of the other. Breathing in and out. Keeping his heart beating.

He felt so alone. Was he the loneliest man in the world? He could bet money that he was. No one knew what he was going through. And that’s what made him feel most abandoned. But then again. Fuck that. He didn’t need anyone. What good were friends anyway? Friendships really meant nothing. Renjun finally realized that what he had were not friends, but connections. Because at the end of the day, that’s what this goddamn college life was all about. Making as many connections as you possibly could, so you could reap advantages from them later on life. All of his relationships were opportunistic. And realizing this was giving him the worst headache of his life. Like all the alcohol was thrumming in his head and blinding him.

He arrives at his doorstep, punches in his code, walks in and freezes at what he sees.

Jeno, Jaemin, Jisung, Donghyuck, Zhong Chenle and you were all in the living room, drinking and eating and laughing. None of them had even noticed that Renjun had walked in. Because they were all too busy bellowing together.

Suddenly, Renjun feels his blood boiling hot in his veins. How dare they. How dare they look like one big happy fucking family right in front of him. Renjun pushes back all emotions he’d been feeling and holds onto one: red hot burning anger. He heads in.

“Hey, hey! Look who’s finally back!” Donghyuck says mid-laughter as he finally notices him. “Come join us because Mark is passed out on your bed, by the way.” he laughs but his smile slowly fades as he watches Renjun’s expression.

“You okay, man?” Jeno asks slowly.

The others slowly start reading his energy as well because his demeanor has gotten everyone’s attention. Renjun wants to pick a fight. He wants to fight with all of them for not being there for him. But he looks around for an easy target. Someone he can direct all his ruthless anger towards. And his eyes zero in on you.

“What are you doing here?” Renjun asks you urgently. Like you’ve done something wrong.

“I just got you some food. We all thought we’d eat with you since you didn’t come to the party.” you say and you get up smiling and take Renjun’s wrist “Come, sit.”

But Renjun roughly snatches his hand away from your grip, making you look up suddenly. Your eyes are round, but you don’t look angry. You perhaps look shocked, but mostly concerned. And that makes Renjun want to hurt you more.

“You can’t just show up here unannounced. I didn’t invite you here.” Renjun spits at you.

“Hey man, easy. We invited her.” Donghyuck gets up and puts himself between the two of you.

“Well, this is not your house, either! You can’t just invite her without asking me.” Renjun scowls at the boy.

“Renjun, I just got you some food. I just wanted to make sure you had eaten.” you say gently, stepping up from behind Donghyuck to speak to him.

“Y/N, you are not my girlfriend. So stop acting like it.” Renjun snaps and he finally watches the hurt he wanted to see on your face. He also sees Jisung’s scared expression and Jaemin’s disappointed one.

“I…” you begin “... I know… I just… I came here with the guys… I…” you begin, but Renjun yells again.

“You need to leave. You can’t just show up whenever you want.” Renjun continues and takes a step forward but Donghyuck holds a protective arm in front of you. Whoop-dee fucking doo. Now his friends thought he was some sort of a savage.

“No, Y/N, you shouldn’t leave.” He says then turns to his friend. “Dude, what is your problem?” But Renjun keeps attacking you.

“These people are not your friends, okay? They are my friends. You’re crossing a line and you need to leave right now.” Renjun loves the reactions he’s getting. He loves that he has provoked every single person in the room. Because Jaemin has gotten up and taken your hand protectively whilst Jeno has joined Donghyuck in blocking you from his view.

“Hey, man. Easy.” Jeno warns. Jisung and Chenle watch this strange confrontation with worried looks on their faces, eyes darting between him and the others. Renjun can’t believe it. All his friends were protecting you. All of them. He was the fucking monster in this room, too.

“Renjun, I just… I just came here to see you.” you say, but there’s no accusation in your tone. Just annoying, tiresome understanding. He fucking hates it and all his friends can see that he does.

After everything he had been through, after all his life was putting him through, he was the asshole, he was the monster once again.

Well, then. If everyone thought him a monster, he should become it completely.

“Y/N.” Renjun laughs as he looks away. Then he looks at you with that sinister smile still on his face. “Y/N, the only reason I’ve kept you around for so long is because I wanted to get to your brother. So you can leave now.”

That did it.

Because Donghyuck’s eyes have closed as he stands in front of you and Jeno’s eyes have widened. Jaemin just looks shocked as he holds onto your hand. As do Jisung and Chenle. But you.

Your face has hardened. He doesn’t see shock or disappointment or the kind of reaction that would’ve given him full satisfaction. He sees your stone face as you finally say something with a hint of venom in your tone.

“Well, in that case, Renjun, you’ve been wasting your time. Because I got you a slot with my brother right after our first date.”

Renjun stands speechless.

He would’ve remained speechless if you hadn’t pushed past Jeno and him and headed straight for the door.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out and goes after you. Renjun watches the others. Jaemin and Jisung have looked away and he sees nothing but pure disappointment on their faces. Jeno, on the other hand, is looking straight at him. Renjun looks back. Good. He wants everyone to hate him. This was exactly right.

He hears Donghyuck barge back into the apartment as the door bangs shut behind him.

“Dude what the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yells and Renjun finds himself shoving the boy, pushing him so he wasn’t in his space.

“What’s wrong with me? Please, Donghyuck. Don’t even pretend like you haven’t been using her the same way I’ve been. You’re not any better.” Renjun punctuates the last bit with another shove and Donghyuck grabs at his collar and roughly pulls him by it. Before it can escalate, Jeno and Jaemin rush forward to break the two of them apart. Jeno grabs onto Renjun, Jaemin onto Donghyuck, prying him off and creating some distance between the two. Jisung and Chenle look from the couch, mouths hanging open, visibly distressed.

“You didn’t have to do that, man. You didn’t have to be an asshole to her.” Donghyuck accuses as he tries to free himself from Jaemin’s grip and come face to face with Renjun again.

Renjun laughs bitterly. “Well, now that I have been, you can have her. Live your happy fucking life.” Renjun spits at him and he gets the reaction he was looking for because it makes Donghyuck lunge at him once again, making Jaemin tighten his grip and pull him back.

“What is wrong with you? You fucking asshole! Why do you think everyone’s out to get you? Stop acting like a little bitch and start acting like a man for once!” Donghyuck shouts and that does it.

Renjun feels his headache blinding him. And yet, he doesn’t know how he frees himself from Jeno’s grip. But before he knows it, he has balled his hand into a fist and aimed it straight for Donghyuck’s face.

#renjun fic #renjun angst #renjun fluff #ficscafe #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #huang renjun #renjun #nct fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct #nct dream #nct college au #renjun x reader #we met in online class

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memeadonna · 4 years ago

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Anything for You, Baby

Hello everyone! This is a short little thirst story I wrote for @sendhelpimstupid featuring Sugar Baby Kirishima. The stunning art can be found here. Please visit her page and show her some love!

This story is 18+. Minors DNI

Warnings: Sugar Baby/Sugar Mommy Relationship, Premature Ejaculation, Cross-Dressing, Sub Kirishima, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Mild Choking, Scratching and Biting Mentioned, Vaginal Intercourse, I wrote this in like 3 hours sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes

Word Count: 2,562

Of all the things you were thankful for in life, people were always surprised when you mentioned Kirishima's expensive taste. Your entire relationship had started because he hadn't noticed how much money he'd been spending until one day he was overdrawn. He hadn't added up the totals of his expenses in his head, hadn't realized every time he swiped his card that money left his account. He liked the finer things in life, and how was he supposed to know that his bank account was meant to last him all of his first semester? His parents had told him "figure it out", so he couldn't even ask them for help.

Being at a hero school was tough already – he could barely even enjoy the city nightlife since he was stuck at the dorms between classes doing homework. He didn't even have enough time to get a job outside of school hours. Maybe he wasn't cut out for university, let alone at a prestigious hero school.

You had noticed Kirishima's state of panic, and when he confessed to everyone in the dorm that he was out of money, people (Bakugou and his other friends) had made fun of him. Uraraka and Iida had stepped in immediately, chastising them for mocking him. He tried to play it off as no big deal, that he'd figure it out, and the conversation shifted elsewhere.

You'd been born into a wealthy family like Iida and Momo, and on top of that you'd had your own job throughout high school, so you'd saved up lots of money already. "I could hire you," you told him after everyone had left for the night. "Pay you to do things for me."

"I don't need your charity," he'd snapped back. "Did Bakugou put you up to this?"

"I just thought I'd offer to help you since we're friends," you answered calmly, before getting up and heading to your dorm. That night you'd sat up late regretting ever asking him if he needed help.

Early the next morning he was at your door. "What kind of things?" was the first thing he asked, as you rubbed your eyes and blinked up at him blearily. You made him repeat himself twice because the words didn't stick in your brain this early.

"Clean my room, do my laundry," you'd finally told him, offering what you hoped was a kind smile. "Other things when I want them." The blush he gave you at those words more than made up for his harshness last night.

You'd started slowly, of course. You gave him rewards for handing in assignments on time, taken him out to dinner when he got good grades, and little treats for random things. "Do I always need a reason, baby?" you'd asked him one night as he examined the concert tickets, you'd just given him. You'd been delighted to accept the ticket he gave back to you and had secretly smiled to yourself as Denki had whined and complained that Kirishima had promised to take him! But that was back when Kirishima was spending his money on everything. Now he was just spending it on himself.

One day, half-joking, you'd gifted him a French Maid outfit to clean your room in. It was just a little too tight for him (he couldn't even do the zipper up!), but it was the creamy white stockings and cute little heels you were interested in. He tried his hardest to clean your room, but after the third time he rolled his ankle, he ended up with you in his lap, and let's just say that your relationship changed from there.

You'd pushed him back into your bed and felt him up beneath the skirts and ruffles. You left a smattering of dark hickies over his neck and collarbones, moving down his body with clear intent. He was beet red, sitting up and panting as he watched you with wide eyes. Your hands slipped below his skirts and trailed up his legs, and you watched him squirm. "Aw," you teased, revelling in your victory. "What's wrong, does the baby like getting dressed up all cute and ravaged?"

He stammered with a reply for a moment, but you dipped under his skirt and the breathy gasp he let out as you began to kiss up his thighs was more than worth it. A part of you wanted to pull back out and apply lipstick so you could leave more evidence of your kisses, but there was no way in hell you were going to back down now. You settled for more hickies and a few bites, and by the time you reached your prize, he was hard and throbbing.

You were the only person with a dorm on your floor (luck of the draw), so you didn't dare tell him he should quiet down his moaning, especially not as you slid the lacy panties reverently down his thighs.

It was clearly his first time, and he was squirming in your grip as you gave him a teasing lick. A part of you wanted to pull back and tease him some more, but this was too good to pass up. He threw an arm over his eyes and slipped his other hand into your hair. He arched his back as you raked your nails down his thighs, and let out the sweetest noise you'd ever heard, blowing his load directly in your face before you could even get him into your mouth. After you'd finished laughing and wiped his spunk off of your face, you'd given him the sweetest kiss on the cheek. He'd gone beet red as you laughed, and hadn't said no when you promised him a shopping spree because he was just so good for you.

The sales lady at the lingered store had been surprisingly accommodating when you'd asked her if they carried up to a 3X.

He'd been your sugar baby for all of first year, even after he got his own allowance from his parents. He'd been your boyfriend the rest of your university career (of course, you still liked to treat your spoiled baby), and a few years out of school he'd asked you to marry him, with that same sweet expression he always had when he told you he loved you.

The world saw Red Riot as a strong, manly hero that took shit from nobody. They also saw him as hopelessly in love with you (or with Dynamight, depending on which magazine you read). He was a real Man's Man, always on the covers of fitness magazines or advertising sports drinks and protein powders. He advocated for always being chivalrous and brave, but that Manly Men also took the time to be vulnerable and compassionate.

One thing that hadn't changed since your days in university was the fact that your Eijirou loved to be spoiled. Shopping sprees, private chefs, weekends away… his eyes always lit up no matter what you surprised him with. You were both similarly ranked in the charts, and both made a lot of money, but he secretly adored the fact that you had a bank account you filled up every month just for him. He'd buy whatever he wanted with it, whether it was designer clothes or handbags (for either of you), or any number of things (he particularly liked buying new gym equipment that the two of you most certainly didn't need).

Today had been a hard day. You'd been overusing your quirk and your muscles were sore, not to mention you'd been working with one Lord Explosion Murder God which meant that you'd been ordered around all day.

When you got home, a note from your husband was laying on the counter. Eijirou would be home a little late, and you could order whatever for dinner. Grumbling to yourself, you refused to take yet another order from yet another person and reheated leftovers in the fridge. Take that, loving husband!

You ate standing at the counter in your uniform, and after you'd put the dishes away you marched up to your bedroom, already peeling your costume off. You left it on the bathroom floor as you hopped into the shower, and just let the hot water scald your aching muscles. You used Eijirou's body wash because you missed his smell, and changed into your pyjamas while you combed your hair.

You crawled under the covers and scrolled on your phone for a while, wishing your husband would just hurry up and come home already. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms, hear him tell you all about how he would protect you from the bad things in the world.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs woke you from a restless sleep, and you sat up in bed. How long were you asleep? Was that your Eiji?

The door opened, and what greeted you took your breath away. Your husband stood in the doorway with a sheer robe, trimmed with red faux fur. It was tied with a ribbon around his waist and accentuated his hips beautifully. He was wearing red lacy thigh highs and nothing else beneath the robe. He completed the look with a set of Louis Vuitton stilettos, which you noticed in passing due to the stunning everything else the Adonis before you was showing off.

"Hey," he purred. "Heard you had a rough day." He smirked at you as your eyes trailed up and down his body. "Can I make it better?" he took a few steps into the room, undoing the ribbon around his waist teasingly slowly. He opened the robe, letting it fall off his shoulders and rest at his elbows. He had filled out a lot since university, and he was a healthy 7'6 and twice as wide as you. He could lift you with one arm and toss you like a football if he wanted, but as he dropped his robe to the floor and elegantly clicked his way across the room towards you, he had no intention of tossing you around tonight. That thought made sparks dance around your core, and you felt your panties starting to soak.

You sat up on your knees for a better look at him. He ran his hands over his body, shamelessly showing off for you. His dick stood proud and tall and was already leaking for you. You smiled at him as you slipped into your role. "Did you buy that to look pretty for me?" you asked ever so sweetly. "Sounds like you want a reward."

He walked right up to the side of the bed with a breathy "Yes,". You leaned up for a kiss and enjoyed the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he took his time with you.

His hands gently explored your curves, squeezing the plush of your thighs and the soft skin beneath your breasts, and as you pulled back to lick your lips at him, "Anything for you, Baby," felt like the most natural thing to say.

He crawled into bed, careful not to kick you with his knife-shoes, and placed his wrists at the headboard. You attached the restraints with all the care in the world, and ran your hands over your baby's chest, admiring all of the scars that years of hero work had marked him with. "You're beautiful," you told him, leaning down for another kiss.

You painted his chest with kisses and hickies, not caring if they'd be visible the next day. Let people stare. Let people know who your man belonged to.

"I love these too," you ran your hand over his new stockings. "You know lace is my favourite."

"Always the best for mommy," he purred back, pleased with himself as you explored his body. It had become familiar to you; you knew everywhere he was sensitive. You knew how to get him going, how to slow him down, and how to drive him wild. You shrugged off your own pyjamas and he let out a noise of approval, eyes taking in your curves. "You're stunning." He offered, looking absolutely awestruck. If his hands were free, they'd be all over you, but now was not his turn for control.

You slid off your panties and tossed them off the bed, eyeing his body up with increasing lust, before suddenly straddling him and sinking down onto him with a small noise of discomfort. He let out a sharp noise of concern and pleasure, gasping. "You've gotta prep yourself!" He hissed, half-drunk on the tight squeeze.

"Shut up," you answered, and picked up a brutal pace. He let out a strangled noise and arched up into your touch, gasping and whining and looking up at you with eyes clouded by lust as he gave harsh thrusts up into your welcoming body. His hands hardened and unhardened within their restraints, along with a line along his forehead. You wrapped your hands around his throat, and he tilted his head back to bare it to you. His moans crescendoed as you began to put pressure on him, canting your hips faster and faster.

He was drunk off the lust singing in his veins and bent one of his knees to give you better leverage. You freed one of his hands from its restraint and it immediately flew to your hip to help you ride. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and his breath came in desperate gasps. "Gonna cum!" he whined, blinking desperately up at you. "Please mommy! Please let me fucking cum I want to cum so bad!" he babbled, blinking his pretty crimson eyes up at you.

You gently caressed his face and smiled down at him. You leaned in closer, giving him a deep kiss. "So do it," you growled. "Knock me up."

His hips faltered and the absolute roar he let out at your challenge sent a pleased shiver through you. He ripped the other restraint right off of the bedframe (along with a chunk of the frame itself) and flipped you onto your back, all without pulling out of you. He kissed you ravenously, his hands squeezing every inch of you. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand as he reached his other down to play with your clit. He threw you over the edge, and as you came around him, his thrusts changed. They were sharp and purposeful as he poured everything he had into your body.

"Mine," he growled out, sinking his fangs into the tender meat of your shoulder. He didn't dare move as the two of you came down from your highs but rolled the two of you back over so he didn't crush you. You laughed a little and cuddled into his chest, enjoying the warmth of a womb full of his cum and the delicious stretch of him inside of you, not to mention the feeling of utter safety that having his arms around you brought. "I love you." He purred, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I love you too," you answered back, smiling up at him with tenderness.

"Did you really mean it?" he traced his hands over your back, massaging your tender shoulders. "You want to start a family?"

"Mhm," you nodded tiredly, before looking back up at him once again, echoing your earlier promise: "Anything for you, Baby."

Taglist: @malicealieness (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me an ask requesting it)

#Kirishima Eijirou #sub kirishima #kirishima x you #kirishima ejiro x reader #Kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #Bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha eijiro x reader #sendhelpimstupid #Memeadonna

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margridarnauds · 2 years ago

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Just to clarify, for the sake of everyone who hasn’t been seeing this saga from the beginning:

I have, since last November, dealt with:

- Former friends evading the block function by sending anons

- Former friends sending spies into my Discord server

- No, really, I have evidence to support them going onto my blog about every single day for months after they were blocked.

- Former friends attempting to turn my other friends against me, using, at times, the spy in the Discord server

- Former friends making legal threats against me based off of me having IP-based evidence of their continual stalking of my account for months (which isn’t a felony anywhere in the US, unlike stalking, so...good luck with that)

- Former friends accusing me of being antisemitic (based off of things I never said. Like. Demonstrably never said, that were said by someone else at the table) and ableist (based off of me, as someone who does have a congenital disability that I have to deal with every single day, LAUGHING at a joke by the OTHER one of the two of them, who also has a disability.) Note: This was months after I blocked them, it was never brought up in the original exchange of texts that ended the friendship.

- Former friends, when I stopped giving them the attention that they desperately craved from me, dropping a new post in one of my followed fandom tags for every post that I would make. (I knew this because I would see new posts appearing that I couldn’t see. Since I blocked them.) For weeks. All out of what I can only presume was a childish sense of not letting me “win”.

- Just to reiterate: They used my favorite fandoms against me, as part of their ongoing stalking of me. They used one of the only things keeping me SANE last semester (and that they would have KNOWN was one of the only things keeping me sane, given their stalking of my account) to harass me.

- And all this is because I BLOCKED one of the two of them after we both agreed the friendship was over. That was it. They can claim it was over anything else, but, at the end of the day, it was because I stopped giving them my time and refused to be a punching bag and they needed to justify the situation to themselves and prove that I was somehow a monster. And to be clear: I’ve made mistakes -- I have a hot temper, and sometimes that comes out. Sometimes, I open my mouth when I shouldn’t. Sometimes, I don’t articulate things like I want to and the result is sort of muddied. But I have never regretted hitting that block button one day since this began.

And I’m sure there are a hundred ways this can backfire on me, since I’m certain that, if they *are* still going on my account, even after I locked it down, they’ll take this as some sort of evidence that I’m still after them, or that I’m secretly going to dox them (if I was that sort of person, I would’ve already) or that I’m trying to create a callout post (despite not using their name and this drama being kept to a small fandom where everyone knows what happened anyway) but, frankly, I resent the notion that I should just shut up and take the abuse. I won’t reveal their names, I won’t reveal any identifying information about them, because I still have a conscience, whatever they might think about me. But if it seems like I’ve been brittle for the last 6-7 months, if it seems like I’ve been colder, bitchier, it’s that I’ve been dealing with a stalking situation (that I did NOT tell my faculty about, that I kept reserved to a few friends, so my faculty likely believed I was just a bad student) since last November, on top of a notoriously difficult program. And I’m very unlikely to ever talk about this publicly again, because I am moving on.

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sunlightwoo · 4 years ago

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Run With Hell | Ride Along Prequel

☀︎ pairing: bad boy!sunwoo x fem!reader

☀︎ genre: summer fling au, angst, squints of fluff, bad boy au, lovers to exes au warning: suggestive/sexual language and content, mentions of alcohol and partying

☀︎ wc: 4.1k

☀︎ plot: summer hues may bring in the summer blues, but this one person you spend your summer with just so happens to be the one person that you needed in that moment. instead of the place that he needed to end up being in, he lets you take him back to your place and see where it goes from there, thinking that maybe it might just be a summer bet and nothing more than that.

☀︎ a/n: this was originally a scrapped idea back from like 2018 and i never brought it back up to surface until recently these last few months actually from when i started planning ride along and then sunwoo’s verse in hate came out, which sparked more ideas!! so i hope you guys enjoy the prequel to it, in which you learn more about the history between Sunflower and Sunwoo’s relationship, even though this is not one of my best oneshots im sorry :( it can be read as a standalone, but it’d be cool if you read this and then ride along if you haven’t read it yet!!

read ride along here!

track one: moonlight | i never knew, you could hold moonlight in your hands

The soft breeze of the summer winds blew past your hair, your arms wrapped around yourself as your eyes were trained on the scenery in front of you. Comforts of the beach seem to have always made you calmer than you have been, and you think that these last two years of your life had been a fever dream considering the roller coaster of events that you have been through.

You remember waking up in a hospital the night that your brother, Jacob, had an important race to compete in, and because of that, you didn’t want to break his winning streak by being bad luck. The moments prior to that were unable to be recalled for as the only reliable information you can get was from the doctor, explaining that you had consumed something before you had blacked out that had made you almost comatose, if it weren’t for someone that had saved you that night.

There were often times where you thought about what had happened at that exact moment, but it didn’t distract you from where your mind had been leading you the following day when you were discharged already because of Jacob. You weren’t sure where he had gone that moment, but all you could remember was reading a note with his scribbles that mentioned where he had left it.

A final decision that he had to decide on with a gig that he had gotten for his music career was what he had been working on, and you couldn’t be happier for him. That following morning, you found yourself at the cafe that was across from where you were staying temporarily, eyes darting across the beautiful cursive chalk that was written on a board for the menu, and you couldn’t help but feel like there were a pair of eyes that were stuck onto you.

With a quick glance around the shop, even if there wasn’t a line behind you, you noticed a guy that sat by the window with his eyes trained onto yours. An accidental eye contact, you might’ve thought to yourself as the handsome stranger had given you a small smirk across his lips, but you have already turned back around to quickly place an order for a tea that was taken to go.

You had known who he was, considering his name was already spread among the city that you lived despite it being your summer before your first year of college. How it had easily slipped from your own tongue if anybody were to ask you, who is the biggest playboy that is known in your graduating class, and it had to be him. If it weren’t for the fact that he had an overpowering aura that radiated from him, then maybe you would’ve gotten to know him more.

But you didn’t want to, because you knew what guys like him were like.

It was guys like him that made you want to hide away into the comforts of your personal safety net because you knew he was too beautiful and confident to be good. A chaotic driven force that you think was meant to be encountered with was what he had seemed like, ready to clash into your lawful good that the more that you thought about it, you wondered what more of him was like if you were to say hello.

Now it was a little over a year later in the summer before your junior year of college and you think that it’s comical that somehow the same stranger had caught your heart. After a semester and a half of trying to win you over as a friend throughout your first year, he was able to convince you that maybe hanging out one spring night at the beach wouldn’t be too bad, right?

“Sorry I’m late, Sunflower. Got stuck trying to find a way to park the car without dealing with some asshole again.”

Your eyes look up to meet the same warm ones that welcomed you as the red hair he had coated this time around seemed to have blended in with the night sky. He takes a seat next to you and wraps his arms around his knees that were being hugged close to his chest, until he takes a look over to you once more with a soft smile on his face.

“It’s okay, Sunwoo. I haven’t been here that long anyways.” You reply quietly, giving him a smile back as you bit back everything that was on your tongue.

You had already been there for almost two hours waiting for him, collecting your thoughts as you wondered what the two of you were in that exact timing. There were times where you wanted to just kiss him as a way to shut him up whenever he rambled or said something dumb, but there were also the mixed signs that made you wonder if he had ever thought about you the same way that you did in the past two years.

One too many shared secrets and kisses were often exchanged, but the two of you had always remained friends with too many benefits as you found your way back to the other. It was almost as if you were magnets, opposites that attracted to another and now you were trying to find a way for it to make sense under the moonlight that was brightly shining tonight above you.

“Can you sing me a song, bubs?”

His eyes turn to look at you, who had been staring at him after breaking away from your own thoughts, as he nods in response and opens his arms for you to find your place in them. He wraps his arms around you securely, holding you close to his chest as the soft voice that came from his throat produced a sweet song that you easily recognized as one that he had told you about for a while.

It felt like you were being put under a sleeping spell as you looked at him, wondering how even under the moonlight, he was almost the most ethereal being in the world. It was as though he was carrying that luminescence in his hands and placed it above his head at all times, making sure that whenever you needed to just be held, he was there to do so for you; another reason why you were so conflicted with what you both had.

However, maybe it was after a confession or two after that soft lullaby that it ended up being enough for you. Maybe being with him was enough for you, and for that you had also regretted it at the same time, because you knew that you were in for a ride with hell’s spawn.

track two: sometimes | cause we’re collecting moments, tattoos on my mind

“Are you ready for our getaway?” You hear someone say behind you and turn to look at Sunwoo, who had been standing at your front door for a moment now.

It was the hot morning of July first after a long night being with him, and it was a spontaneous decision to head out on a little road trip away from the city. You wanted to go to the seaside, you had told him just hours prior, and he had told you about a little place that he used to stay whenever he was in a mood to go on vacation and escape the realities of the world.

So you packed your bags and were ready to go as you walked up to him with a big smile on your face, one that mirrored his own as he pulled you close. By placing his hand against your lower back, the space between you both becomes almost invisible as he pecked your lips in just a quick second, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sudden action that came from him.

Even after a month or so of dating, it still felt like you were floating on cloud nine despite the fact that you had been doing this for two years or so already. Being with him felt like you were able to conquer on the world, and you knew that might not stay long despite the shared whispers of the cursed eight letters that were often said when you spent nights together.

You wanted to tattoo every moment that you were with him into your mind, because from then until now it had only felt like you were living in a daydream. He had given you nothing but love and made you happier than you would’ve imagined making yourself, but you were okay with also accepting the fact that it might not last long considering there were often times where you might clash thoughts and argue.

By the time that you both made it to where you were staying, you were amazed with how elegant it looked on the inside, despite the fact that it seemed smaller on the outside. You think that maybe you were in a movie as you looked around, but it wasn’t until you turned around to see Sunwoo being busy on his phone that you wondered if this mini getaway was going to be worth it.

“Everything okay, bubs?” You ask while putting down your stuff, sitting on top of your bag as he gives you a small smile before nodding in response.

To him, he thinks that you are one of the most beautiful things as the sun was practically shining on your face as it seeped through the large glass windows of the house. It’s almost amazing that he found himself falling for you quickly, but he wonders how much of that smile will last on your face before he does something to mess it all up.

He wants to tattoo the moments where he’s able to make those smiles on your face with his sincerity, the him that he wants to be with you rather than the person that he decides to be to everyone else. Yet somehow, there was something about your innocence to him that made him want more than just what you had then and now, but he was scared of what he might become if had actually gotten it all for himself.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Let’s go sleep for a bit before we spend the night having fun, hmm?”

track three: bad decisions | You've become my favorite sin so let 'em keep on talking

He knows that he isn’t good for you.

His reputation of being the residential bad boy was no match for your heart, and you both knew that. After spending the first two weeks getting to know the ins and outs of the bay, you made some quick friends even though you spent a majority of your time back at where you were staying with Sunwoo. The way that his hands had always felt like fire on your skin was exhilarating as every kiss you shared was more intoxicating than the last.

You could tell that he was getting tired of it already, because you’ve noticed that the fire that was once in his eyes was dying out, and you were scared of it. Even his words of reassurance of loving you and for not leaving your side by then was made, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to trust his words every time that he spoke of them.

“Are you sure that you’re in love with me?” You whisper after the highs and frustrations that were spent into what you had done earlier had been let out.

The two of you had argued about how he never seemed to have paid more attention to what you were doing when the two of you were out at the street markets today, his phone seeming more important than exploring the depths of shops that were opened by small businesses. You confronted him about it, thinking that maybe he was involved with someone else and that you were just wasting your time putting your love into a relationship that was one sided.

However that wasn’t the case, as he told you that one of his friends was updating him on a situation that involved their family.

“Why wouldn’t I love you?”

Those toxic eight letters felt so foreign at the tip of his tongue as he looked at you, who laid your head on top of his chest. He didn’t know what love was, and he felt like the biggest jerk for also leading you on knowing that in the end, he was going to leave. He wasn’t sure when he was going to do it, but he knew that you were slowly catching onto his plan, and he hated himself for making you feel as though you weren’t enough for him to stay.

He wants to give you the pain that he had felt once in the past, and ruin the sweet innocence that you held in your eyes. He’s heard stories about you as well, the same way that you had heard stories about him, and he knew then that there was something about the way you talked and expressed your beliefs that made him want to be indulged into you more.

“We don’t feel the same anymore.” You whisper, eyes meeting him as the moonlight that used to capture his eyes so perfectly seemed as though it was dying out.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched him stay silent for a moment, his eyes still looking into yours but he still held you close to his heart. He doesn’t know what to say at all and he regrets it a little more for dragging you into this game that he started playing with his own heart on his sleeve, but he doesn’t know when he should stop, because to him, it feels like this game that he made was still not done yet.

But he can’t find the heart to tell you to run, before he can do it.

“I promise I’ll love you more than I should be loving you. You’re my sunflower, the same way that I’m your sunshine, and it’ll stay that way.”

track four: leave me lonely | you’re a dangerous love, maybe you’re no good for me

It was a little over a month into your getaway, and it feels emptier than it was when you first started the entire trip.

The nights that you shared together were less filled with meaningful words and actions, but more filled with moments that were there to make the empty void that was present full with whatever you two had wanted to do. You could tell that he was on the verge of just walking out the front door and leaving you because of how the increasing arguments that were made continued to be more present, and you could’ve sworn that if he wasn’t going to be the first to leave, then you would.

It was another occurrence tonight where you had gone out to eat as a date, since you wanted to fix what might’ve been missing these last few weeks of summer that you might’ve not done. However, it didn’t happen to work as you noticed how Sunwoo was already preoccupied on his phone almost the entire time, and you were fed up by the end of the night as he was driving you both back home and he had taken the time to text back whoever it was that seemed more important than you, who had been nothing but patient the entire night.

“Am I seriously not fun anymore, that you’ve spent the entire date texting whoever it is on the other end?” You half jokingly asked while turning to him, watching as he had given you a confused look on his face while the two of you were waiting for the traffic light to turn green to go.

“I haven’t been texting someone the entire time-”

“Then what did we do today, besides eat at the restaurant because we sure as hell didn’t talk the entire time that we were there.” You retort, the joking tone that was previously in your tone no longer there as he looks at you for a split second before putting his phone into the cup holder that was between you both in silence.

The green light finally switches and he drives again as you could tell that he knew you were right, the silence overbearing you both as neither of you spoke afterwards. You wanted him to bite back, but you couldn’t help but be impatient this time around with what he had to say, because he always seemed to brush it off these days about what he has been doing when he wasn’t with you, or when he leaves mid-argument and comes back the next morning making it up.

“You’re just overreacting, don’t worry about it, Y/N.”

He hasn’t called you by your name in a while considering he had only been calling you by Sunflower for a long time now. It was almost like whiplash as you stared at him, who was now driving back to your place with the night sky behind him and you wondered what you had even done wrong when you were just wondering who he would keep texting.

Maybe he was cheating on you and he didn’t want to admit it, you think to yourself as you curled up into a ball in your seat and looked outside your window to hide the pain that was present in your heart. Was there could’ve been something that you might’ve done wrong that could just made him bored throughout the last two years that you’ve known each other, where it was you that might’ve been in the mess up stance?

That night, you couldn’t even remember whether or not you have slept properly considering he didn’t sleep with you, but rather slept on the couch in the living room.

Was this what the start of heartbreak was like?

track five: touch it | Why do you say you want me, then tell me you're not coming in?

“How long have you been lying to me about everything?”

Tears were pricking the corners of your eyes as you stared at the individual in front of you with your heart on your sleeve, wondering what his next move was. Your throat was raspy from how much you were yelling out of anger and frustration earlier, and you wanted to know how long you had been playing his game.

“Two years.” He replies, his facial expression never faltering as his hands were in his pockets and eyes boring into your own.

His phone was placed on the couch beside you as you had found his texts with his best friend about how being with you was all for a bet of money; and he had won. All he had to do was to make you play his game and purposely break your heart, only to win some sort of prize that he would win at the end, but at what cost.

“I didn’t mean anything to you, did I?” You whisper as you cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting to hear whatever else he had to say, but you couldn’t help but wipe away the stray tears that were already falling down the apples of your cheeks.

Yes, you meant everything to me, he wants to say as he looks into your heartbroken eyes, and he was willing to give up everything to walk over to where you were to wipe your tears for you. But there was also the thrill in his blood that made him feel a bit prideful that he succeeded in being the asshole that he made himself out to be to everyone but you.

He had won the game, he acknowledged and it was over for him but he also knew that there was just a little bit of guilt that still lied inside of him. He doesn’t know what to say as he watches you start to crumble in front of him internally, and he knows you’re tired of all the lies that he had been feeding you since the first day.

So he had decided on running away after he said his last words, because like you had predicted, he was hell’s spawn that loved creating a chaotic masterpiece. As much as you hated him in the moment, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to let go for a bit, and maybe this was his chance to leave so that he doesn’t have to think about you anymore.

And he does as he walks away with the wind as he closes the door on you both, leaving with the sounds of his car already leaving and you know that he wasn’t coming back.

You think that it’s your fault anyways for wanting to believe in what you had was genuine, with every time that he had said it was true. But like you thought in the first place, where guys like him wouldn’t last, was true, because now you were in the place that held everything that reminded you of him. You wanted to trash the beautiful pain that was in front of you, but you also felt numb at the same time, not wanting to do anything but to just mourn the stained heart that was on the sleeve of your arm.

It was there for the world to see; tainted with toxic love that only you had for him, and it was now spilling out with his last words echoing in your head.

“I never loved you in the first place, because you were only just a game to win.”

bonus track: lovesick girls

The loud silence of the crackling fire resonates in your ears as you stare at the burning car that was less than 50 feet in front of you. Your knees were tucked into your chest as you stared at it, wondering where it all began to go wrong as the numbness of your heart continued to stay there. He had been gone for weeks, as you had expected him to run away for that long, and you hated yourself for falling for a guy like him in the first place.

He was intoxicating, addicting; the one person that you had given your entity to, only to have it crumble up in the palm of his hands.

You hated him and knew that this would be the last time you’d ever want to see him, since you were going to start going back on track with your goals and dreams. Starting next week you were set to start the fall semester into your junior year of college as it was now almost mid September and ready to run for the life that you wanted to have from the start of the summer before you had met him.

You think to yourself that maybe it was him that had ruined it all, or maybe a piece of you didn’t want to admit that it was also your own for not being cautious enough. The entire summer felt like you were running with the devil himself, and that the air you were breathing in now, the very one that you can finally collect your thoughts in, were your moments of freedom as you blinked back the tears of the memories that had played in your mind of last night that ended it all.

“All you ever did was run away from us in the first place, Sunwoo-”

“And I was wrong for doing it, that day that I walked out and left,” He says and you could see his eyes glimmer with what seemed like sincerity in the form of tears, just as the sun that was setting around you both began to make your skies darker than they were before.

“But that doesn’t mean that I regretted walking out, because I knew that we would’ve only hurt each other more if I had stayed.”

The silence that was overtaking you both was faster than that as your eyes continued to lock onto one another’s. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do in this situation, because you very much so loved him and all his imperfect beauties. However it felt like he was the constant fire that was burning your skin with every touch that he was able to make, and you didn’t want to be a part of that cycle that would continue with him, especially after finding out about his bet with his best friend at the most.

So in retaliation, you did what you should’ve done in the first place, resent and ignore him, as you knew that this should be the last time that you see him again in this life.

“Then I think you should just leave for good then, Sunwoo. Don’t ever try to find me again, and if you do... we will never do us again.”

#ficscafe #destinyverse #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #kdiner #kpopscape #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz angst #the boyz oneshots #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #tbz angst #tbz oneshots #kim sunwoo #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo angst #sunwoo oneshots

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kurt-nightcrawler · 4 years ago

Text

Decay: part II

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: this talks about alcoholism, implications of sex, mentions of technical assault (Jessie kissed Warren while he was drunk and she made him think she was Mother Nature!), also we get into Warren’s backstory a bit. I’m not trying to make anyone out to be a villain, but the story overall is much more upsetting than usual.

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! Not exactly the mood needed right now— I am very sorry, but I’m working on a much happier piece for Mother Nature and Warren! I’ll try to have it out before the end of the month!

Part 1 if you need a refresher!

Warren didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened. He wanted to pretend it never happened. To just hole up the memory of the night deep into his mind. He always hid and pushed away trauma. Why should this be any different?

His friends wanted to get Alex or maybe even Charles involved, but he protested.

“It’s my word against her’s.”

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to support you, and Jean and Charles are telepathic—”

“What can I really do? Press charges? If I do that then and use Jean or Charles to back me up, it becomes a whole mutant’s rights issue. It’s not worth it.”

(Y/N) hated seeing Warren look so defeated. Jessie going about Xavier’s unscathed by everyone who wasn’t close with Warren, and him thinking it was his fault.

(Y/N) had said she must have eaten something bad at the Halloween party, causing her to feel sick and sprout poison ivy. Also why all the plants died.

If Hank and Charles could tell she was lying, they didn’t say anything.

Rumors started amongst students about what had happened at the party— if Warren had actually cheated on (Y/N), if he did something to Jessie, or if Jessie forced herself onto him.

Warren didn’t like the rumors involving (Y/N) in the mess. He didn’t like the stares and whispers they got when people saw them together.

“Poor girl, staying with him even after he cheated.”

“Maybe she’s too naive to realize.”

“I knew they’d never work out— (Y/N)’s too good for him.”

“I bet he forced her into going out with him.”

“I mean… he’s not ugly—”

“Yeah, but he’s not a good person and (Y/N) is!”

It made him sick to his stomach. Warren didn’t force her into anything— and he thought he had changed, that people were finally trusting him.

Guess he was wrong.

—

Warren wasn’t even paying attention in his environmental sciences class. They were watching a video on how a plant species can be invasive, required to take notes on it.

Warren was texting (Y/N), phone brightness turned down all the way. He just wanted to go to bed for a while and ignore the real world.

When the bell rang, dismissing students, Alex told everyone they’d finish the video, next class.

Warren got up to leave, but Alex stopped him.

“You doing alright?”

“Uh, yeah.” He lied. “I’m not in trouble am I?”

Alex hesitated to answer.

“No.”

Warren nodded, noticeably nervous.

“There’s a rumor going around saying you assaulted Jessie Rowe.”

Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. “I didn’t.”

“Okay… But something happened, didn’t it?”

Warren didn’t respond.

“Warren, you have to tell me what happened.”

“I got tipsy and she kissed me. I thought she was (Y/N), but then (Y/N) walked in and Jessie tried to act like I tried to kiss her.”

Warren’s eyes were pleading— pleading for Alex to not get mad at him for drinking, or mad at him for not speaking sooner.

“Um, no one got hurt, and now there’s just a rumor going around, so you can like, give me detention for drinking or whatever it’s fine—”

“I’m going to have to tell Professor Xavier,” Alex told him.

“Please don’t tell him I was drinking! I can’t— I won’t—”

Alex could see the desperation in his eyes. Warren had nowhere else to go. He, like many other students, depended on Xaiver’s entirely.

“You’re a good kid Warren— you’ve opened up to others, you were sober for almost six months, you have a good group of friends and even a girlfriend— Charles isn’t going to punish you. I just don’t want you to spiral down and lose all the progress you’ve made…”

“I just,” Warren rubbed his eyes. “Don’t wanna make a big deal about it. I’d rather it just blows over. Everyone will eventually forget about it anyway.”

“Are you aware of the rumors involving (Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so, this involves her and Jessie. I know—”

Alex and Warren turned their heads to the door. Someone was opening it.

(Y/N) stepped inside. Warren hadn’t shown up to the library during their shared free period like he said he would, so she was worried about him. Plus, he hadn’t been doing too well since the Halloween party…. Neither of them had been.

Her eyes were pink and purple— she was full of worry for her boyfriend.

“Oh!” She gaped, soon as she saw Warren and Alex sitting at his desk, in the middle of what looked like an important conversation.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” She asked.

“No. You can stay.” Warren told her. (Y/N) dragged a chair over and sat next to him.

“Right, as I was saying, Charles isn’t going to expel you, but he might want to make a police report. I’m not sure what good it will do, but—”

“I don’t want to. It’s not going to do anything but cause problems.”

(Y/N) was immensely confused. She had no idea what they were talking about.

“We’re gonna talk to Jessie, maybe a few of your friends, and knowing Charles, he won’t expel either of you. We’ll do everything we can to get the rumors to stop…”

Oh! It finally clicked in her mind.

It was about the party.

“Okay… Thank— thank you, Alex.”

“Yeah, we should go to Charles’s office— what class do you guys have next?”

“I have lunch.”

“AP art.”

“That’s… Ms. Burnwood, right, (Y/N)?”

She nodded.

“I’ll make sure your absence is excused.”

“Thanks.”

Alex took them up to Charles’s office. Warren then explained everything that happened, while trying to not get his friends in trouble for also drinking.

Jessie was brought up to Charles’s office and questioned. She caved pretty easily, with (Y/N) glaring at her the whole time, and amid their telepathic principal, lying wouldn’t do her any good.

Jessie was “grounded”— she couldn’t leave campus during the semester until after Thanksgiving break— she was also to stop encouraging the rumors, and had to talk with one of the school counselors once a week until they deemed it no longer necessary. Jessie’s parents weren’t in the picture, so notifying them wouldn’t do any good.

Warren’s punishment was less severe, he couldn’t be out later than nine on weekends, (just until Thanksgiving break) and he was required to go to group therapy to help him deal with his former alcoholism and past traumas, for the rest of the school year.

—

“You don’t have to tell me what goes on at group therapy.” (Y/N) told him.

“I know.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone.”

Warren smiled a little, “I know.”

“Okay…” (Y/N) kisses his cheek.

Warren wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope it goes well… it should.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah… Here,” Her hand was in a fist. When she opened it, she revealed a daisy and a four-leaf clover.

“You don’t really need luck or anything but, um, I thought, you know—“

Warren accepted the small gift, taking it from her hand. “Thanks, baby. I love it.”

—

Group therapy was awkward. Warren hated it. He knew it would be good to talk about… well, everything, probably, but he had a hard time opening up to total strangers.

“Alright, in case you’re new or don’t remember, my name is Allison… We have a new member with us today, he’s going to be with us for a while.” Allison looked at Warren. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Okay… Um, my name is Warren.”

Everyone replied with, “Hi, Warren.”

“And um, I’m a mutant.”

Allison smiled, “That’s great! Do you go flying a lot?

“Uh, yeah.”

“What kind of metal are your wings made of?” A girl with washed-out blue hair asked.

“Titanium, I think.”

“Well, Warren, welcome to the group,” Allison interjected, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Now, we’re going to do an ice breaker of sorts, and then just have like, regular conversation. We can all go around and say our favorite color and why.”

Warren blinked. He didn’t— he didn’t have a favorite color.

“And don’t say you don’t have a favorite color. If you can’t pick a favorite, choose one you hate the least… We can start with Trey.”

Warren thought of color options—

Black? No. Black wasn't his favorite, despite being 95% of his wardrobe. It absorbed the most light, helping him blend in with the darkness and look tough, something he needed in Germany.

Blue— The color of Kurt— his roommate and friend, who he tried to kill. Twice. Something he still felt remorse over. And Apocalypse. The man who gave him the metal wings and tattoos, forcing him to aid in mass destruction, only to leave him for dead when he was no longer useful.

Red— the color of Alex’s plasma beams. And how the Horsemen were a result in him almost dying.

White and Silver— the colors of his wings. Past and present. How each reflected hardships from Warren’s life. How he hated them and a child and almost resorted back to that self-deprecation when they shifted into metal and the consequences finally sank in.

But what about green? The color of healthy plants that thrive. The color of (Y/N)’s eyes when she’s happy.

Warren liked the color, despite (Y/N)’s eyes rarely being green around him. However, it didn’t mean she was unhappy with him.

Her eyes were pink around him. A way of saying “I love you” without actually saying it. The pink meant she cared about him more than most people— that she trusted him, accepted him for who he was despite his past, and that she would be there for him when he needed her.

Not many people could say they would do those things for Warren, or that they had.

His father cared more about the family name and how his son couldn’t possibly be a freak. His mother didn’t want his wings to tarnish her image, and while she was still his mother, she left him on his own most of the time.

And how all his past relationships and flings— they didn’t have much meaning. There was never any real affection behind them. They saw the cage fighting king and wanted a piece of that.

(Y/N) looked past all of that. She saw how he responded to what life threw at him. She saw the tough guy act, the big softie, the broken boy who ran away in fear, the man who thought he wasn’t good enough— she brought out his good side, making him realize he deserved happiness, love, and a home, that when you hit rock bottom, you can only go up from there.

He decided pink was his favorite color, because it showed someone cared for him in ways he wasn’t used to. He would do anything to keep it around forever.

“Warren, what’s your favorite color?”

“Pink.”

He got a few funny looks. They were probably expecting him to say black, based on his general aesthetic.

“And why is that?”

“Um, it’s my girlfriend’s eye color… she’s also a mutant.”

Allison smiled, “That’s very sweet.”

She moved on to the next person, “Rose, what’s your favorite color?”

She said, “Green.” But Warren wasn’t paying attention to why.

The ice breaker eventually ended, and Allison shifted the discussion to other things.

“Now Warren, since you’re new, usually new members spend most of their first meeting talking about themselves. Just so we can get to know you and whatnot.”

“Okay… um… anything specific you want to know?”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“Okay… So, I was born into a really small family. Just me, my mom, my father, and his brother. I don’t really know what happened to my grandparents. I never asked...

When I was three we moved from Westminster to Centerport.”

“Where’s that located?”

“Oh, uh, Westminster’s close to London.”

Allison looked impressed.

“I went to a private all-boys school when I was little. I don’t remember the name of it though.”

“Were you born with your wings?” Allison asked.

“No.” Warren responded. “They started to grow when I was eleven… I was terrified. I spent almost every day trying to rip them out… but once all the feathers are gone, you’re left with nothing but bone. It hurt like hell, but I used a pocket knife and a razor to try and cut them or at least file the bone down.”

“It wasn’t hard… but it hurt a lot. I spent so much time worrying about my wings and if people would discover them, that I started to fall behind in school… I wasn’t like failing or anything, I had access to all kinds of tutors and everything, but my parents quickly found out I was falling behind. My father was barely aware, telling my mom to ‘deal with it.’ She tried her best, but I was so scared of them discovering my wings…”

Warren sighed, “My parents had a beach house in Italy, and we were supposed to go there for my fall break. I was so terrified. I couldn’t go swimming, they’d see my wings… But I couldn’t find a way out of the trip. I was twelve at the time and my mom… She saw my back when I came out of the shower...”

“She screamed, and my father came running to us. When he saw my back, he was disgusted. The look on his face was drilled into my skull for years. And it wasn’t even that bad, they were just growing back after being cut, so they weren’t even that big… but I just remember how scared my mom was, and how disgusted my father was… I just started crying and apologizing, but it didn’t do anything.”

“We left our trip four days early and I was pulled out of school. My parents decided to homeschool me, which basically meant, cut all contact with everyone from school and have a few tutors come to the house.”

“Did you have contact with anyone outside of your home?”

“I saw some family friends, and one or two kids of my parent’s friends… my parents hired countless doctors and all kinds of people, doing tests on me, trying to find a “cure”. Every time they failed my parents just got more upset— I was becoming a waste of time and money. They were becoming more distant and cold, wrapping themselves up in their work, and I was locked up.”

“What happened to your wings?”

“My mom said the scars they would leave were ugly, but I was forced to let them grow out.”

“My parents were arguing a lot, always sad or angry… mostly because of my wings… I was getting tired, tired of hiding, tired of the arguing, I wanted it all to stop…”

“Can you please stop?” Warren thought he was going to cry.

His father glared at him, disgusted by the wings, and how his son was on the verge of tears.

Warren could hear his parents arguing from down the hall. That’s all they seemed to do when they were home— fight.

Warren blamed himself. If he was just normal. If he didn’t have those damn wings!

He wanted them to stop. He’d do anything to make them stop.

Warren thought about getting on to the roof and jumping. Not even flying down, just falling to his end. His end of suffering, and his loveless, lonely existence.

“Are you going to do it?”

Warren looked over his shoulder to find his father standing behind him. Watching him peer out the highest window in the house.

“No! I— I’m sorry! I wasn’t—”

His father scoffed. “Did I raise a coward?”

Warren couldn’t look him in the eyes. “No sir.”

“I’ve scheduled for you to have spinal surgery next week. Your doctor is coming to prep and evaluate you for it. This surgery should fix you.”

Warren’s eyes were closed, trying not to imagine the pain, trying to not cry in front of his father.

“Or you can fall out the window… in a freak accident.”

“So I jumped out the window. I didn’t fall to my death as he had hoped, but I flew. I flew far away. I flew across the Atlantic for a few hours before I started to get tired. I spotted a ship and I got close. It was a fishing boat, a large one. The crew let me stay for the night until they went back to land… After that, I flew from São Miguel to Cascais. From there I just kind of fucked around Europe.”

Warren sighed. Allison told him to take all the time he needed and he could stop if he wanted for the day. Let someone else talk.

Warren nodded and kept quiet for the rest of the meeting.

—

Alex picked him up when the meeting ended. Alex didn’t ask about the meeting. It wasn’t his business and he knew Warren would talk when he was ready.

“Where do the others think I went?” Warren asked.

“Training. They’re busy anyway, most didn’t notice you were gone.”

Warren silently nodded.

Alex pulled into Xavier’s garage, parking and letting Warren slip out and go up to his room.

Warren kicked his shoes off and laid on his bed, putting in his earbuds and playing some soft songs.

(Y/N) was heading up to Warren’s room to use his shower. She was covered in paint, for she helped clean up after the fourth graders used the art room.

(Y/N) knocked on the door, making sure no one was there before she entered.

Warren didn’t hear her and (Y/N) almost didn’t notice him laying on the bed. When she did, however, her entire demeanor changed.

“Hi, Angel!” She went over to practically smother him in light kisses.

Warren pulled out his earbuds and smiled. “Hi, Flower.”

“When did you get home?” She asked, scooting over to the open side of the bed.

“Like ten minutes ago. What have you been up to?”

“I got paint all over me,” (Y/N) frowned. “I was going to take a shower and wash it off.”

“You can do that. I was just kind of laying here.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“If you disassociate your whole day will feel off. You should take a nice relaxing shower with me, instead.”

Warren chuckled.

“Not like that, Bird brain!” She exclaimed. “We can use one of my lush bath bombs and my rose-scented exfoliator.”

“Are you saying I smell?” Warren joked.

“Eh,” (Y/N) shrugged before slipping her bra off and throwing it in the hamper.

Warren scoffed and wrapped his arms around (Y/N), peppering her neck in kisses. “How dare you!” He teased.

“Ah!” (Y/N) laughed. Warren’s lips on her neck tickled her skin. “That’s why I’m going to bathe.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll join you.”

(Y/N) hummed in victory, wiggling out of Warren’s grip, and headed into the bathroom to grab her stuff.

The last time she used the girls’ communal showers was before they were even dating. (Y/N)’s toothbrush made its way into Warren and Kurt’s bathroom, then her shampoo and conditioner, and then eventually most of all her other hygiene products.

(Y/N) set her soap and other things on the edge of the tub and drew up warm water, filling the bathtub up about halfway.

She sprinkled in rose petals and got Warren into the bathroom. They both stripped off their clothes and stepped in the tub. A bit difficult, for Warren had to fold his wings back and get in first, with (Y/N) practically sitting in his lap, face to face, but they made do.

(Y/N) dropped an orange bath bomb in the water and grabbed her jar of exfoliating scrub, rubbing it on her arms and legs to help remove the paint.

Warren closed his eyes and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“How’d it go today?” (Y/N) asked as she grabbed a bar of soap and rubbed it onto her skin.

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry…” She murmured.

“Don’t apologize. It wasn’t terrible… I talked a little bit about my parents.”

(Y/N) nodded as she applied her rose exfoliator onto Warren’s skin.

“I’m really sorry…” Warren let out. He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears.

“Baby,” (Y/N) looked into his eyes. “it’s okay.”

“I— I just—“ Warren hiccuped, letting out a choked sob and releasing some tears from his eyes.

(Y/N) rubbed his back, avoiding the tender spot around his wings, whispering, “Let it out, it’s okay, Angel.”

Warren silently cried into (Y/N)‘s shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him in comfort. The emotions he felt almost made him sick— love and affection— and a lot of it too. He couldn’t remember a time before when he felt like that. He never wanted to leave (Y/N)‘s embrace.

Warren lifted his head up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry— um—“

“It’s okay.” (Y/N) cupped his face in her hands, leaving a kiss on each cheek. “Want me to wash your hair?”

Warren nodded.

“C’mere—” (Y/N) grabbed the shampoo from the bathtub ledge, pouring some in her hands, and then lathering it into Warren’s mop of curls.

Her hands gently massaging his scalp felt like a touch of heaven to Warren. He didn’t want to cry again, but he couldn’t help himself. (Y/N) was heartbroken at her boyfriend’s demeanor, but it was good he was letting it all out.

She finished washing his hair and drained the tub— them both getting out— Warren holding onto (Y/N) as she gently dried them both off.

“Thank you, He mumbled.

“Of course, Baby…”

—

Most of their dates shifted to either being at the mansion or during the day. Warren felt bad, having to limit things for them, but (Y/N) didn’t care.

“We can do more stuff during the day… And at night all our friends will be gone… We’ll be all alone…” (Y/N)’s tone was almost teasing. Warren had to chuckle to himself, she was doing her best to make the situation work.

His second group meeting was set a bit later in the day, around 6 pm on a Saturday. Warren told (Y/N) he probably wouldn’t be back until after dark.

“Call me if you need me. I’ll be here—” She motioned to her empty bedroom.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” He teased.

“You too, Baby.”

Warren drove himself to his second group therapy meeting. Alex offered to drive again, but Warren felt bad having him taking time out of his day to drive him to group therapy.

Not everyone who was at the first meeting was at the second one— but Warren saw some familiar faces.

“Hey, Warren! Welcome back,” Allison greeted him.

“Hi.”

He took a seat near a guy in a grey hoodie with an eyebrow piercing.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to go around, say our name, and if we have any pets. If you don’t that’s okay! You can say, what kind of animals you’re interested in. Let’s start with Collin…”

Warren zoned out for a bit until it was his turn. He didn’t have a pet, and he didn’t really have an interest in a specific animal. People made jokes about him being a bird, but he didn’t necessarily have a connection with them.

“I don’t have a pet… My girlfriend has a lot of plants though…”

“Ooo! What kind?”

“Um… Almost all kinds— her mutation helps grow them and stuff…”

“That’s cool.” Someone commented.

Warren awkwardly nodded. The ice breaker continued around the circle, and when finished, Allison had some people give updates on how they had been since the last meeting, others talked about how they were feeling in general.

“Warren—”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Do you want to continue talking from where you left off last week?”

“I can, sure.”

The floor was given to him, and Warren continued his “backstory”.

“I ended up in Germany. Messing around, staying overnight on stranger’s couches. I tried to find work, but it was hard being almost 15 at this point and no papers… I ran into muggers and they tried to, well, rob me, but I fought back. I wasn’t very good but it got them off and away from me… I ended up in a bar… The last thing I remember was falling asleep and then waking up in a locker room of sorts. A bunch of men shouting in German, um, some in English, but basically I was told to go out into ‘the ring’. People were watching— shouting and cheering, for the other guy in the ring. He was kind of short and hairy, but he had these claws, and he could really kick ass. I barely made it out of there— I didn’t win— but I didn’t die. People enjoyed watching us. They cheered, calling him Wolve-something, and they called me, Angel.”

“I wanted to leave, but the people running the ring gave me some money and I found a place to stay for the night… the job offers weren’t exactly lining up… so I agreed to more fights. I got really good, fighting other mutants, probably in the same situation as me, but I quickly realized, kill, or be killed…”

Warren quickly realized people had very concerned looks on their faces. “I didn’t kill anyone! But I did beat them up pretty badly— the more fights I won the more money I got— and it was that or die… I did it for about two years before I met someone…

I was alone at a bar, I was bruised and a bit bloody, and this girl with purple hair came up to me. She was one of the guards in the fight club— she worked for some guy named Caliban, I think. I don’t remember… Anyway, her name was Betsy. She said she’d been watching me for a while, saying my fighting was impressive but could be improved… Uh, She offered to help me out, and we went back to her place. She helped clean up the blood on me, and um, then we made out, and I spent the night… This went on for a while, she’d watch me fight and give me tips and pointers, and we’d make out and stuff…”

“How long is, awhile?” Allison asked.

“Um, Like two-ish years? I don’t know— but um, we had this like thing going on, and I thought we were maybe dating? I dunno. But whatever we had I fucked up.”

Warren groaned as Betsy aggressively pressed her mouth against his. He had just won another fight and went back to her place to “celebrate”.

“God, B… I love you...”

Betsy froze, her body tensing up.

“What?”

Warren panicked, her face did not seem pleased. “It slipped out— I’m sorry—”

“No… You don’t mean it… We can’t be together.”

“What do you mean?” He asked. “I thought we were together.”

“Angel— this isn’t a relationship— we just fuck while I give you some pointers on your punches.”

“I know this isn’t traditional, we don’t go out on dates—”

“You don’t love me! We’re too young— I’ll lose my job. I spend all this time one you so I don’t lose my job, you’re the best fighter—”

“You keep me trapped here?” Warren asked, slowly piecing things together.

“It’s not like that—” She tried to explain.

“I’ve tried to quit fighting for almost a year now! I told you I wanted to leave, and this whole time you’ve been keeping me here?”

“You’re young and naive, and I’d lose my job, everything—”

Warren stood up, ignoring Betsy’s excuses.

“Where are you going?”

“Away. Since we’re not together and I don’t love you.” Warren slammed the door behind him and headed back to the ring. He needed to let out his anger.

—

Warren went on a winning streak— he won ten fights in a row— the feeling was borderline euphoric, the crowds cheering for their champion, Warren getting to sink someone’s teeth in or watch them fall to the ground.

Warren was amped up for his eleventh fight— the announcer was talking about his next opponent—

“The Incredible Nightcrawler!”

A lanky, devil looking, blue boy fell out of a cage onto the floor of the ring. Warren circled him for a moment before meeting him on the ground.

He wasn’t fighting, just teleporting around the cage in small bursts.

“Fight!” Warren yelled at him. “Or they’ll kill us both!”

The blue boy looked terrified, but he fought back when Warren attacked him.

At one point he managed to drag Warren against the side of the electric cage, burning his wing.

“Ah!” Warren cried out in pain. Suddenly he saw the blue devil escape from the bottom, so in a risky move, he flew up and ripped off the upper walls of the cage, and flew out. His flying was wonky and jagged for one of his wings was broken.

Warren had nowhere to go, so he went back to the one place he shouldn’t have—

Betsy’s place.

—

“I was drunk as shit and angry and this blue wrinkly man came with Betsy and some other girl I didn’t recognize, and he just held his hand out and metal grew out of my back and on top of my wings. I was healed, in a way, but also it kind of ruined my life. The blue man also just held his hand out and gave me these tattoos…”

“You weren’t one of the horsemen with Apocalypse, were you? Like last spring I think… Out in Cario?” One girl in the circle asked.

“Yeah… Um, I never killed anyone, and I don’t do that anymore. The X-Men took me in and I’m trying to get my shit together.”

“We don’t judge here, and from what I’ve heard, the X-Men do great things! Like the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man.” Others in the group murmured in agreement.

“You’re built like a transformer dude,” The guy sitting next to him commented.

“Thanks…”

“I think you can do a lot of good, Warren. You’ve spent a lot of time running from your problems, but you seem like you’re grounded now… I was told you came here because you relapsed.”

“It was an accident— I haven’t drank since.”

“And that’s good! It can be really hard to open up and talk about your past, but you did it…”

Warren nodded along to what Allison said.

“I think you can do even better if you acknowledge your mistakes and learn from them… and don’t be afraid, don’t push them into the back of your mind… I think— if you haven’t already— talk to your girlfriend about some of this. Doesn’t have to be a lot or all at once, but being open and honest does good in relationships.”

“Yeah, um, sounds good.” Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. He was terrified to talk about all of this with (Y/N).

She didn’t deserve the burden. (Y/N) was this innocent, happy, light in his life. Warren didn’t want to ruin that.

He thought (Y/N) was too good for him, and she would eventually realize that and leave him.

But he trusted her. He trusted (Y/N) with his life. Perhaps a bit foolish, but he rarely ever felt sure about those types of things. He decided to trust his intuition.

—

Warren drove home in silence.

He pulled into the garage and put the keys on the key rack before heading up to (Y/N)’s room.

He didn’t even bother knocking on the door. He just walked right in and flopped onto the bed, in (Y/N)’s lap.

She was surprised, but she quickly came to her senses and tried to figure out what happened.

“Baby?...” (Y/N) looked down at Warren’s face as she tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear.

“I…” Warren burst into tears, all his bottled up emotions coming out at once.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Warren sat up and (Y/N) hugged him tightly.

“I have… things… I want to tell you… about my past…” Warren scrunched his nose.

“My parents and other stuff… but I’m scared.” He admitted.

“Warren, baby, I’m not going anywhere. Tell me whatever you need to, whenever you feel ready, okay?”

He slowly nodded, still crying.

(Y/N) kissed his forehead and rubbed his back, being silent and supportive.

“Can… Can you promise me… Promise me you won’t leave because of my past. I’ve done really bad shit and—”

“I promise I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.” She reassured him.

Warren wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his tears slowing down.

“Thanks…” He mumbled.

“Of course, anything for you, Angel.”

#warren worththington x mother nature #warren worthington #warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii x reader #x-men oneshot #x-men x reader #xmen x reader #ben hardy x reader #xmen oneshot #warren worthington iii x mother nature #angel x reader #archangel x reader #warren worthington iii x you #warren worthington x you #mother nature reader

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delicioussshame · 4 years ago

Text

This was written with time I 100% did not have and I’m so going to regret wasting it later.

Luo Binghe had always planned to come back for Shen-laoshi.

It’s why he’d chosen to study business in the first place. If he wanted to steal Shen-laoshi away from the job that was stretching so thin he was already close to breaking when Luo Binghe was only a high school student, he needed to make so much money that Shen-laoshi could not say no. If Shen-laoshi were to think, even for a second, that supporting him would weight Luo Binghe down, he would remain a teacher for the rest of his life, Luo Binghe knew it.

Luo Binghe had expected this would take at least a few years, even with the prestigious university degree he only got because Shen-laoshi personally tutored him for so long.

He hadn’t expected the shortcut life had sent his way, but he was not going to ignore it.

“…Binghe? Is that Luo Binghe?”

Luo Binghe feels his stomach drop. Shen-laoshi could never be anything less than stunning, but even his visible joy at seeing Luo Binghe again cannot mask the dull, almost sickly pallor of his skin, or the deep bags under his eyes. As Luo Binghe feared, the terrible school he had attended had eaten Shen-laoshi alive. He’d always known that good intentions wouldn’t be enough to permanently counter chronic lack of funding and colleagues so apathetic they could only be matched by the students, but witnessing it this obviously tears at his heart.

Luo Binghe had never planned a conventional courtship. He’d known since he was fifteen that Shen-laoshi was his soulmate. He didn’t want to wait. If Shen-laoshi were to ask, Luo Binghe would marry him right here and now. The ring he’d gotten for him had been the first major purchase he’d made, once he’d understood he’d never have to restrain himself again.

Saving Shen-laoshi is more important that Luo Binghe’s romantic intentions. He has to take him away from here, as fast as possible. He hadn’t planned on moving this fast, but since summer break is fast approaching… “Does Laoshi knows who Tianlang-Jun was?”

Shen-laoshi blinks at the non-sequitur. They’d been catching up moments ago, and now this? “…Yes?”

“After I graduated from college, I found out I was his only biological son. His only family still alive. He left me everything.”

Shen-laoshi lefts out a polite, unbelieving laugh. “Really? How lucky for you.”

Luo Binghe hands him his phone. Does Shen-laoshi even have a decent phone? The older model he’d used when Luo Binghe was still a student here cannot possibly still work, can it? “You can look it up, if you want to. There were a couple articles about it.”

Luo Binghe stays silent at Shen-laoshi’s face turns astonished, before he gives the phone back. “Wow. Binghe, congratulations! Or should I be offering you my sympathies? You’ve never met him, have you?”

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “That’s not why I told Shen-laoshi this. Laoshi should know that I’m very, very wealthy. I’ve taken over my father’s affairs, and I fully intend on keeping things that way.”

Shen-laoshi blinks, confused. “I’m very happy for you, of course. Binghe deserves it more than anyone, after all the hard work he did to get ahead. But why are you telling me? You must have many friends now. Maybe a lover? You don’t have to hang you with your old teacher anymore.”

“Come home with me.”

Shen-laoshi tilts his head just a little, before gesturing to the mountains of tests he’d surrounded with. “As Binghe knows, the semester is almost over. I have tests to grade.”

Too many to only be his class’. Luo Binghe bets older teachers have left Shen-laoshi their share. Again. Still.

He grits his teeth. He’d chosen to approach Shen-laoshi in July exactly because of this. He’d thought they could get closer during the summer months, and with luck he’d convince Shen-laoshi not to return in September.

September is too far away. “Shen-laoshi shouldn’t waste his valuable time on this! Look at him, so exhausted, so pale, so thin! Has he been eating at all after I stopped bringing him food? Laoshi, your student cannot let this stand! Shen-laoshi needs to stop working. Instead, he can stay with me. I make more than enough to support him!”

He can see Shen-laoshi fluster. “Binghe, what nonsense are you spouting? You can’t just take people in like they’re stray dogs! And I’m perfectly fine! I can take care of myself without having my former student worry about me like I’m a child! Really, Binghe, are you the one working too much? It’s the first time we see each other in years, is this really what you want to say?”

Luo Binghe has never heard more blatant lies. Shen-laoshi couldn’t even meet his eyes as he spoke. He’s on the verge of a breakdown, anyone could see it.

He won’t let this stand. “Shen-laoshi isn’t a child, but I’m not one anymore either. I’ve thought this through. Why do you think I came to visit Laoshi here, at school? I wanted to see if he was doing better, or if he’d moved on from this place, but since it isn’t the case, it’s clear he needs help. Help I’m more than willing to offer, in exchange for all those years he spent tutoring me.”

Shen-laoshi’s voice softens. “Binghe, no. You don’t owe me just because I was doing my job.”

Shen-laoshi wasn’t just doing his job. Even when he met with Luo Binghe at his desk, Luo Binghe had been aware that he sometimes intruded; that Shen-laoshi had pushed back grading or his second job aside to give Luo Binghe, the one interested student he had, the attention he needed to blossom.

No matter what Shen-laoshi says, Luo Binghe owes him the world, and he’ll give it to him. “I want to. Shen-laoshi would stay inside, reading the books he doesn’t have time to read right now and resting until he’s well again. Wouldn’t that be nice? I assure him my home is equipped with any luxury he might need, and if something is missing, I’ll get it for him. All he would have to do is be there for me when I return. That’s not much to ask for, is it?” The work day would be never-ending if it were keeping him away from Shen-laoshi, but it would also be so much more worthwhile. Working to keep his beloved safe and happy would fuel him through each day.

“If Binghe is lonely, he can get a girlfriend! They must be fighting to get at you! Keep your teacher out of it!”

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “I don’t want women. Laoshi is the only one I want in my home and in my bed. As I said, I’m a man now, and I know what I want. Living with me would be so much better for him than,” he gestures to the decrepit teachers’ room, “this. Laoshi has to accept that much.”

Shen-laoshi’s skin is now white as a sheet. He probably finally figured out that Luo Binghe was serious.

Good.

“Binghe really… Do you realise what you just said? Binghe wants… You’re not well. If you prefer… men, that’s perfectly fine. Get a boyfriend who’ll be your equal. Don’t offer to… pay older men to…” The rest of the sentence dies out, Shen-laoshi obviously too distraught to continue.

Distraught, but not disgusted. “I said I wanted Laoshi, not anyone else. I wouldn’t offer such a deal to a stranger. I just want to give back to Shen-laoshi for all he did for me.”

“Binghe has a strange definition of giving back.”

To be honest, Luo Binghe would wire an obscene amount of money in Shen-laoshi’s account each month if he thought for a minute that his former teacher would accept it. He just knows he won’t.

But if he’s his… Shen-laoshi has a reason to accept his generosity, and Luo Binghe has a golden opportunity to demonstrate his devotion. “I have no plans to trap Laoshi in something he doesn’t want. I came to see him because the semester is almost over. How about he comes spend a week at mine, see how he likes it? If it doesn’t suit him, he can go at anytime. I won’t ever restrain his movements. I just think it would be a better deal for both of us. Or does Laoshi doubt me? Have I ever given him a reason to distrust me? I was always a good student, wasn’t I? I can tell Laoshi needs some time to recharge. Some time away from all of this, for him to be taken cared of properly. I would love to provide that time for him.” Luo Binghe advances a bit, and takes Shen-laoshi’s frail, trembling hand in his, closing his own, much warmer, fingers over his gently. “Please?”

Shen-laoshi stares at their joined hands, apparently mystified at the fact that he’s not taking his back.

Luo Binghe is content to wait.

“…This is crazy. I can’t possibly be considering… Binghe, are you certain?”

Luo Binghe has never been more certain of anything. “Yes.”

“…You said just one week?”

To begin with. Luo Binghe has no intention of having him leave after said week. Shen-laoshi will be so thoroughly wooed, he won’t even realise seven days have passed until a month has. “One week.”

Shen-laoshi rubs his temples in a gesture that reveals how much his own existence weights on him. “I must be insane. Who does that? Binghe, who does that? Who do you think I am?”

“My teacher, and the only person I want.” He lets his hold on Shen-laoshi’s hand turn inviting, rubbing with a touch so light Shen-laoshi shivers under its caress. “Think of it as a vacation. Laoshi deserves one. That’s not so strange, is it? A vacation away from everyone and everything, where you only have to think about yourself, for once.”

“And you.”

“And me.” Luo Binghe won’t let Shen-laoshi forget about him, not even when he’s at work.

“Why me?”

“Why not you? Shen-laoshi is beautiful.”

He laughs. It’s a bitter, ugly sound that Luo Binghe instantly hates. “I am not. You said it yourself; I’m tired. I’ve exhausted myself. I look twice my age.”

Luo Binghe rolls his eyes. He’s never heard anything more ridiculous. “You do not. Laoshi barely looks older than I.”

Luo Binghe thought Shen-laoshi would keep on arguing. He could go on for hours, when Luo Binghe got him in the right move. His anger had been captivating, as a child. Luo Binghe had dreamed of creating such passion in him.

He might have a chance to, now.

Instead, Shen-laoshi is vanquished by the years of overwork. Luo Binghe can tell. It’s not his proposal that seems rational, or Luo Binghe himself that’s too appealing; it’s, as he expected, this revolting environment that Shen-laoshi wants to escape from for a moment, even if the only way to do so is by running in Luo Binghe’s arms. “Fine. If Binghe wants to do something as stupid as taking his old teacher as a charge, he can do it, as long as he doesn’t expect much. I don’t have anything left to offer.”

More nonsense. Shen-laoshi, tired to the core and depleted as he is, has more to offer than the prettiest of the heiresses who tried their hands at him.

Luo Binghe gives him a card, folding his fingers over the thick paper. “My address. Shen-laoshi should come on the first Sunday after the term has ended. I’ll be here to welcome him properly. And I won’t let him forget. If he doesn’t show up, I’ll come pick him up. He can pack, or he can bring nothing; either way, I’ll provide anything he needs.”

Shen-laoshi’s fingers twitch over the paper before he pockets it. “I see. I’ll do as Binghe says, then, and come visit him on Sunday, unless he gets his senses back and takes back his offer, in which case, he should call to say so.”

As if. “Shen-laoshi shouldn’t count on it.”

Shen-laoshi sighs. “I’m starting to understand that.”

By the end of the week, Luo Binghe will make sure Shen-laoshi knows down to his bones that when it comes to his teacher, Luo Binghe’s senses have left him long ago. “I’ll be waiting, then.”

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #That AU where LBH and SY fail to negociate their sugar relationship

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blueluneacy · 4 years ago

Text

Confessions

AAAAAAAAND WE DID IT BOYS! Yes, I am posting this late. no, I do not care. it’s the TA!Jotaro/reader first place fic!

Word Count: 4k

Also on AO3!

Warnings: not sfw, slight manhandling, bratty ass reader, slight dubcon if you squint, cumming inside

Maybe this wasn't the best outfit to wear to lecture. It really did fit rather tightly around your ass, and god, if you lifted your arms, half of your torso showed. It really didn’t leave anything to the imagination, but who cared? I mean, maybe, but also, you didn’t care much. I mean, what was the worst that could happen, right? Your TA stares at you the entire class? Newsflash, he does that anyway. It was so obvious that Jotaro Kujo had a thing for you, and it honestly boosted your self confidence at least tenfold. He was attractive, strong, and smart. Anyone attracted to men would want to be with a guy like that, but he kept to himself mostly. If you weren’t more perceptive, or maybe if he wasn’t so weird about it all, then you probably wouldn’t have noticed in the first place. But the way his eyes seemed to keep on you for a moment too long, the way he lingered by your desk for just a moment longer than everyone else, the way he almost seemed to freeze up when he heard your voice, it was all too obvious.

But then, why didn’t Kujo admit it? You were constantly dropping hints at this point that you were interested, often loudly talking about how you were single and looking for a partner while you knew Jotaro was in earshot, but he wouldn’t bite. Not that you were interested in him or anything… Well, that’s a lie. You totally were interested in him, but Jotaro was interested in you first, so he had to be the one to admit that he liked you. Those were the rules. Totally.

But, alas, you didn’t have much time to really consider the pros and cons of your outfit. You only had Kujo’s discussion today, thank god. It should be a crime to have class on Friday anyway, not to mention that it was at ten in the morning. It should be illegal to have a class this early. Yes, you were at this point nocturnal, but you were also in college. You don’t exist before noon. So naturally, you were up getting ready for your class way later than when you told yourself at three AM last night, and you kind of had to get a move on. You already had forfeited a real breakfast, stuffing bagels into your backpack and eating them during your discussion would have to do.

So you headed off on the uneventful walk to your class. Thank god it wasn’t on the other side of campus, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have come for most of the semester. It was always such a hassle to get all the way over there, you didn’t want to deal with it. You couldn’t remember if you actually checked where this class was when you signed up for it, so you couldn’t be certain if this was some sort of foresight on your sight, or just plain luck. Either way, you got to the classroom pretty quickly, sitting down exactly 2 minutes before class was supposed to actually start. You snagged a seat towards the back so you could eat your bagels in peace, but still seem like you were totally paying attention. Jotaro’s eyes on you didn’t go unnoticed, but you couldn’t care to comment on them now, too invested in the idea of food as you pulled out your notebook to take notes on whatever was going to be rambled on about. Jotaro stayed on topic with your chapter, but he seemed to have preferences in what he was talking about. You could tell that what he enjoyed talking about and what he didn’t, because it just showed in the way his tone changed based on the topic. But today… Well, you weren’t paying so much attention to what Jotaro was saying, as the tone of his voice. His voice seemed lower than usual, with a strange gravelly quality to it. Was he sick? I mean, his eyes were on you, they tended to be, but they seemed so much more glued onto you than they were before. You took a bite of your bagel, not even remembering the outfit you decided to wear today and the possible effect that it might have on the man you were certain was at least mildly attracted to you. Nah, you were too busy with that damn bagel.

So, you let yourself get lost in the cantor of Jotaro’s voice as he talked about this or that regarding this biology course. Truly, you could care less. He was just spitting out everything that the professor had to say during lecture, so why bother? You had your notes and you were fairly sure you understood everything that was discussed. And if you found when you finally reviewed your notes that you had no idea what was going on, then you could go to the million review sessions that were available to you before the text. It would really be fine, absolutely no worries. And thank god, discussions were only fifty minutes. You told yourself that you were going to go back to your dorm and study after this, but you knew deep in your heart that you were going to scroll through social media for an hour, get an early lunch, and then go back to sleeping until like five, where you would rouse yourself and prepare to forget the entirety of your evening. Well… At least, that was the plan, anyway.

And that was that. Class ended without a hitch, and you slowly started to pack up your stuff. It seemed so tiring to have all these people try to cram information into your head so quickly, but alas. College was needed for basically every job industry these days, there was no way really out of it. That didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain on an almost daily basis though. You were thinking about whether or not bacon was going to be left when Jotaro’s voice cut through your thoughts, forcefully and without shame.

“(Y/n). A word after everyone clears out.” You would smirk at that, but the tone of Jotaro’s voice wasn’t what you expected. It seemed frustrated, almost angry. Oh fuck, what had you done wrong now? What possibly could you have done to get yourself in trouble, the whole time you were just sitting in the back and… Wait, was eating in class allowed? Oh no. Oh god, were you really going to get called out for fucking eating a bagel? Life was truly cruel.

You swallowed as you watched everyone trail out of the room, silently pleading that someone stay, keep you from this nightmare that was confrontation. God, when you said you wanted Jotaro to talk to you, you didn’t mean like this! But everyone left, the door was closed behind Jotaro, and you lugged yourself over to the front of the room to sit across from his teacher’s desk. You didn't even notice how Jotaro locked the door.

“I assume you know why you’re here.” His voice seemed so careful, measured as he sat down, and for once, his piercing eyes made you shrink into your seat. But no, you couldn’t just give in and give up now! You had to be strong! Or, at least act like you were strong.

“Yeah, and I’m not sorry, it was just a bagel, dude. If you have to get your power fantasy from yelling at me for fulfilling a basic need, then maybe see a therapist.” You crossed your arms, vaguely noticing how it pulled your top just a little lower. Jotaro snorted and shook his head, actually amused at how confident you were. About the completely wrong thing, but hey. You really had the spirit.

“You really think I would give a damn about a some stupid bread? You know, I thought you were maybe playing hard to get, but maybe you’re just dense.” He replied, leaving you just a bit shocked. You were so trapped in the euphoria of bread that you forgot you were wearing clothes specifically meant to drive Jotaro wild. “You think I wouldn’t notice your little stunt. I ought to tear off that little outfit and fuck you over this counter like you deserve.” There was a certain growl in Jotaro’s voice that left your knees weak, and you struggled to keep up with the sudden change of demeanor. Maybe you didn’t know Jotaro as well as you liked to think you did, not able to read him as well as previously interpreted. Still, you did your best to pull yourself together, hoping to strike back with some semblance of wit. Even if Jotaro was expressing some sort of feelings for you, you weren’t just going to show all your cards now. Best to keep bluffing and see how the match turns out.

“If that’s what I deserve, I’m not sure I have many objections. But are you actually going to do it, or are you just going to continue to sit there and talk?” You let a smile crawl across your face as Jotaro’s expression got darker, and in what seemed to be instant, he was on the other side of the desk, his lips crashing against yours. You gasped against the kiss, allowing Jotaro to push him tongue into your mouth as his hands reached your hips, grabbing onto them tight. He remained there for a good moment, pulling away when you were finally gasping to put air back in your lungs. He just growled as he used the moment to help pull your top off, throwing it to the side as his eyes took in your form.

“Such a dirty thing, dressing up like that. You like the attention, don’t you? You should only be seen like that by me.” He leaned in to run a hand through your hair as you eagerly moved to unbutton Jotaro’s shirt, ready to get this moving as much as he was. “You’re fucking mine, no one else should be allowed to see you like that.” He replied. You just laughed and hummed as Jotaro shrugged off his coat, ready to bite back just a bit.

“Oh, I’m yours now? I don’t recall that ever being something we agreed upon. Maybe I’m missing something? Like the part where you confessed your feelings to me?” You teased, Jotaro’s freed arm wrapping around you to bring you just a bit closer. It was like if he didn’t hang onto you, you might flutter away, like sand slipping through his fingers, never to return.

“I’ll make you mine then, fuck. You don’t know what you do to me, how many nights I’ve been awake without you there. I love you, you should’ve figured that out by now.” Jotaro grumbled a bit, almost childishly. You paused for a moment, before laughing a bit, shaking your head. God, maybe the reason Jotaro was so quiet was that he never could get out his words in a cool way. When he started talking in a way that wasn’t explicitly planned out, it was almost like he was just saying the first words that came into his brain. Well, maybe he was. Who can say.

“I know. I was just waiting for you to come out and say it. I couldn’t tell if you were shy or just denying your feelings, so I figured I would give you time in case it was the latter.” Well, that was a total lie. You just wanted a cute confession where Jotaro was all blushing and shit, but that was all out the window now anyway, so who cared?

“Liar. You just were being a sadist.” He chuckled a bit, leaving you just to roll your eyes as you slowly moved down to your knees. Well, fuck it. The two of you were horny, and if you were keeping your shirt off, you were at least going to get a little action here.

“Maybe I am. Wouldn’t you like to know?” You replied, moving to unbuckle Jotaro’s belt. Belts? It was confusing. Either way, you got the damn thing unbuckled and moved to Jotaro’s zipper, noticing the massive bulge that was clearly straining against Jotaro’s trousers. Jotaro was a big guy, so it would make sense that it would translate to that, but still. Gulp.

“You seem nervous all of a sudden. Why’s that?” You just rolled your eyes at Jotaro’s smirk, slightly tempted to tease him further just for looking that smug at you. But no, not today. Another time, maybe, but not today. You reached and yanked down his pants and underwear without much fanfare. He let a low growl out of his throat from the action, but you were more focused on the size of Jotaro in general. What was your plan for all of this again? You weren’t sure, but mama didn’t raise no quitter. You just leaned in and wrapped your hand around the base of Jotaro’s shaft, looking up at him coyly.

“I’m not nervous at all. Don’t you worry about a thing.” You told Jotaro before leaning forward, hollowing out your cheeks and wrapping your lips around Jotaro’s cock. He immediately let out a groan and let a hand rest on top of your head, his fingers weaving through your hair but not gripping down, allowing you to adjust and set your own pace. You saw Jotaro’s blissful expression and felt just a bit of pride well up in you, knowing that you were the one who caused him that. You slowly moved your head, only being able to reach about halfway before you hit the back of your throat, your body threatening to choke on him, but you make up for it by using your hand on what your lips couldn’t reach.

You moved at a slow, worshipful pace, taking in the expression on Jotaro’s face as well as slowly working on getting your throat to relax so you could take Jotaro deeper. You could tell he was holding himself back from making any sounds, his teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard you swore that he was going to make himself bleed. You couldn't help but rub your own legs together, unable to sate that aching heat that was pooling in your gut, leaving you to let out a small moan. The vibrations only seemed to spur Jotaro on, unable to stop himself from bucking his hips slightly. You gasped, pulling away from a moment to take a breath, before smirking up at Jotaro.

“You couldn’t help yourself, huh? I bet you would like it if I let you-” You couldn’t get your words out before Jotaro’s grip on your hair tightened, pulling you forward and back down onto his cock. You gagged as he pushed all the way back into your throat, but he just groaned, rubbing your head slightly as if to comfort you. You moaned just a little, willing your throat to loosen just a bit, letting your own fingers dig into your pants as you whimpered at the heat inside of you.

“You talk too much. Just let me… That’s it, that’s better…” Jotaro’s voice was low, akin to something almost guttural as he began to move in your mouth, holding you tight enough to keep you still, but not so tight that you couldn’t move if you truly wanted to. You did your best to stay put, at least. It was actually sort of hot to be manhandled like this, not that you would ever admit that to him. You just moaned and did your best to breathe through your nose as Jotaro had his way with you, relishing in the way his hips would stutter just a little whenever you took the initiative to use your tongue or moan on you. You felt your drool start to drip down your chin as Jotaro’s hips stuttered a bit more, and you could tell that he was close to cumming. But it seemed that right before he actually did, he quickly pulled himself out of your mouth, leaving you to sputter and gasp for a moment. But that moment didn’t last long, Jotaro easily moving forward to push you to the ground, immediately moving to pull off your pants and underwear. You squeaked as your back hit the ground, Jotaro moving in to press his lips against your neck as he pressed up against your entrance.

“Fuck, I bet you would be so tight for me.... Please, let me, I want you so badly…” Jotaro groaned, and if you were any more lost in your own lust, you might actually say yes. But, your own rationality was enough to tell you that Jotaro was far too big, and you were not in the slightest prepared.

“J-Jotaro, please… You know you’re too big, I’m not ready yet… Soon, I just got to be prepared a bit…” You replied, and although Jotaro pouted just a bit, he obliged. You moved to use your own fingers, but Jotaro quickly swatted you away, pushing one of his own inside of you. You immediately let out a soft whimper. God, Jotaro’s hands were way bigger than yours, but still, you weren’t expecting something like this. You felt your toes curl as Jotaro poked and prodded inside of you, adding another finger to help scissor you open.

“G-God, Jotaro… Feels so good, fuck…” You whined, moving to drape your arms over Jotaro’s shoulders and try to pull him closer. It was nice to feel just his skin against yours. He felt so much warmer than you, like his heat was trying to swallow you up, bring you closer to him. Whatever it was, it was working. As Jotaro slowly worked you open, you felt your knees go a bit weak, Jotaro’s lips and occasional teeth on your neck enough to make you moan. Pray to god there isn’t meant to be a class here anytime soon.

You let out a displeased grumble as Jotaro pulled his fingers out of you, your body clamping around him in an attempt to keep him inside of you. Although you were still probably shittily prepared, it was enough for you to throw out all reason as Jotaro moved back to rut against you, a low growl coming from his throat enough to make you quiver.

“Beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you.” His voice was in your ear as he threatened to nip at it, unable to control his mouth from bruising you wherever he got access. Still, you weren’t opposed to the idea of begging. If it meant getting what you wanted, you might do anything.

“F-Fuck, please, Jotaro! Need you, need you so bad! I love you, please, I love you so much, want you to fuck me, please!” You barely registered the words coming out of your mouth, but Jotaro’s eyes widened and left him almost sputtering as he pushed inside of you, groaning as your nails dug into his shoulders. He pushed in slowly, staying still as he could while you adjusted to him. There was certainly a sting from the stretch, but it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t handle. You took a deep breath and tried to regain any semblance of self you had, only for Jotaro to start moving again, and you lost your composure all over again.

Jotaro let his nails dig into your hips hard enough to draw blood, gripping you tightly as he began to thrust into you at a brutal pace, leaving you to moan as you tried to pull Jotaro ever closer.

“Tell me that you love me. Tell me again, please. Tell me, god, tell me over and over…” Jotaro groaned, and god, you were more than happy to oblige. Who even cares if you spilled the beans first in a technical sense? Maybe you said the words first, but Jotaro was more than happy to show his affection. Hey, you weren’t about to complain about it.

“Fuck, love you, Jotaro. Love you so much, loved you since I first saw you, fuuuck, there, feels so good, I love you, please!” You whined out, Jotaro just growling and moving faster. You tried to move, to grind your hips against Jotaro the best you could, but Jotaro just held you in place, refusing to let you move. He was content in fucking you until you could barely move at his own pace, which just so happened to be as fast as humanly possible.

“I love you too, (Y/n). You’re mine, all mine, I love you so much, don’t ever leave me. Please, say you’re mine, I’m yours!” Jotaro growled, pressing his forehead against yours in an attempt to gain just a bit more contact with you.

“All yours, Jotaro, all yours! God, I’m gonna cum, please!” You whined out, feeling your body start to tighten and flutter on Jotaro’s cock, the coil in your belly threatening to snap at any moment you would let it. Jotaro just groaned, your words spurring him on to move faster, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he felt himself coming to a close.

“Fuck, cum with me, please, fuck, gonna cum inside you, fill you up, all mine, god-!” He groaned, snapping his hips forward one last time before you felt a warm heat start to fill you up, enough to push you over the edge and leave you clawing down Jotaro’s back, your eyes rolling into your skull.

The two of you sat like that for a while, bodies pressed against each other as the two of you caught your breath, basking in each other’s presence. After a few minutes, Jotaro finally pulled out and let his lips catch against yours, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. You heartily pressed back into it, letting yourself melt into it as the two of you shared this tender moment.But, as soon as it began, it seemed to end, with Jotaro pulling himself up and starting to redress himself. You pouted, looking up at him.

“I guess you’re not the cuddling type.” You were half teasing, crossing your arms just a little to show you were just the slightest bit upset. Jotaro just rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a fan of cuddling on dirty classroom floors, no. You should have higher standards for yourself.” He replied, leaving you only to laugh.

“You didn’t mind the floor when we were-” You teased, but Jotaro only rolled his eyes and cut you off.

“Shut up. I swear, I don’t know how I’m going to survive you as a partner.” Jotaro replied as he pulled his belt on. The comment made you pause. Partners?

“W-What do you mean by that? Are you saying we’re dating now?” You asked, feeling your cheeks start to heat up just the slightest bit.

“What else? Seriously, you don’t know how to read the room at all.” Jotaro sighed, holding his hand out to you. You paused for a moment before taking it gingerly, only to be yanked up and pulled into Jotaro’s arms. You gasped, feeling yourself pressed up against Jotaro as he held you in his arms.

“Hey. I love you, you know.” You whispered, unable to keep the words from dribbling out of your mouth. It was quick, quiet, as if you didn’t want Jotaro to hear. As if it was some big secret, or that you were afraid that his strong arms would let you go if he heard those words. But he held onto you still, keeping you close to his chest as his hand brushed through your hair. It was almost tender, in a way that made your already jelly knees weaken.

“Don’t worry. I love you too.” Jotaro replied, leaning in to press a kiss against your lips. You let your arms wrap around him, praying that this was no dream.

But this was real, thank god, and you never felt more at home than you did right now.

#jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #jotaro kujo/reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro/reader #writing #My writing #mine #not sfw

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blizzardfluffykpop · 4 years ago

Text

M&M’s

Summary: Need a tutor? Well, you’ve come to the right school, we have just the one for you. And he’s attractive too.

Do or Not Series

Fluff

Word Count: 2,346

Hongseok X Reader

Of all my time at school, I never thought I would need tutoring. I was an A+ student when I started failing my classes. My grades were in the trash, and I had no idea how to improve or even raise them. How do you even study? Why is college structured like this? UGH! So now here I am sitting in the Dean’s office listening to them preach about how I need to learn from this person to pass. That they won’t hold it against me if I pass because of this tutor. All I have to do is pass the exams, and if I pass. I will move up to the Sophomore year. How am I supposed to pass a class that I’m not participating? And who is this person they are setting me up with? As if to answer my question, they say, “He should be here any moment.”

Like on queue, the door opens to reveal a rather attractive guy. They expect me to be able to study next to him? Oh god, I am so screwed, even worse than I was before. Okay, (Y/n), put your game face on and act like he does not affect you. “This is your tutor, Hongseok, and Hongseok this is (Y/n). I think you two will do well together.” We exchange a polite ‘hello’. Then the Dean tells him what the expectations are for the both of us. And I cannot help but feel my anxiety spike at each time he mentions ‘study’, ‘quiz’, and ‘pass’. What happened to cruising through school? Why is it no longer easy to pass? What did I miss when I was younger?

I was missing the old school structure. That I was memorizing what they said to forget it later. Because back then, as long as I knew the basics, I could pass. It wasn't like those classes were hard either. They repeated the same things over and over. So it was easy to remember, Hongseok had explained to me at our first meeting in the library. He wanted to know why I was failing and what made me remember best. I shrugged and said, 'probably repetition and listening' I wasn't sure, but that was the best guess I had. I never thought of ways to study because I never needed to beforehand. He grinned, “I know you wouldn’t believe it, but my first year here, I didn’t study. I didn’t know how or what worked for me or how I even learned. It took me to the last semester to realize what it was. Once it clicked, it was too late, and I barely passed my exams. To make up for me failing everything else, they asked me to tutor someone.” While I couldn’t believe my ears, something in my gut told me he wasn’t lying. Thus I decided that he was my best bet to make it into my sophomore year.

The following Wednesday, we are stuck inside the library again. When we get settled in our seats, he pulls out two packages of m&m’s. “What are those for?” I ask, and he shrugs and says, “You’ll see.” I pull out my books, a pencil, and a notebook. I’m worried he will look down on me for not having any past homework or past tests. But I threw them all out in exhaustion and frustration. I couldn’t deal with that massive amount of failure. But rather than saying anything, he pulls out some flashcards and a calculator. “Let’s start with math.”

Every time I got a question right, he gave me an m&m. My stomach growled at me every time I would get something wrong and lose out on an m&m. Not that I couldn’t reach in and get one, but the m&m's are rewards for whenever I get something right. Plus, he would give me his charming smile every time I got something correct, so I strived to get them correct.

It wasn’t until we finished math and science and we were walking out together. That I noticed, he was catering to the way I learned. Repeating steps with me or asking me the questions out loud and going through the steps with me. Whether it be an example or how to fix my mistakes, my heart skips a beat as he asks to walk me home.

"So, do you like university other than this?" I shrug, "It could be better, but generally I like it. Everyone I met is kind, like my roommates Changgu and Yanan. Like you're kind and sweet, I wanna thank you for helping me out." He grins, "You're helping me out too. I don't think either of us wishes to repeat Freshman year." I laugh and agree, "What about you? Do you like it here?" He shrugs, "It's okay. I don't have a roommate, but I have quite a few friends. So it helps, plus once you know how to study, it makes it so much easier." I laugh, "Yeah,... if I ever get to that point." When we reach my dormitory I tell him, "This is my stop." As I head inside, he yells, “I’ll see you this Sunday for History and [Subject].” I yell back my agreement and walk up the stairs to my room. I thought this would drag and not want to show up. But he makes me look forward to studying with him. Throwing my finished m&m bag away, I walk to my dorm with a proud smile on my face.

Like clockwork every Wednesday and Sunday, I spend the whole afternoon studying. And he would ask me to study for little quizzes that he would give me on Thursdays. They are over everything we have ever been over together. With each test I passed, my confidence grew, and so did my feelings.

Out of all the days that I spend with him, Thursdays have to be the hardest. With each test, I take the harder they become. I feel like my soul almost leaves my body every time he grades them. How his face turns up in cute ways, trying to figure out my process. Or when I get something right, he sends me a beautiful smile or his pout when I miss a question. His faces make my heart flutter while my stomach wants to throw up from fear of failure. Between the two, I can never seem to stomach Thursdays.

While I have learned my study pattern, I still have to pass this course with him or I fail. While I’m taking a quiz, three Thursdays before my exam, he tells me. “I can already tell you that you are going to succeed with flying colors. So if you fail this quiz, take it with a grain of salt. You have to fail sometimes to succeed.” The first page was easy I knew all the answers without a problem. I rushed through them, and the next page was a little harder. When I got to the eighth page, I was starting to question whether I was studying. What does the eighth number of pi have anything to do with this course? I wish to cry as I take my best guess, which is all I can do when I reach the tenth page. I sigh in relief, it’s the last page it can’t be that hard, can it? Oh, yes, yes it can. “If you take the 4th number of the last answer. [Which I am positive I did not get right, considering that I only gave a two-digit answer to the last question]. Exponentially expand it by twenty-two. What is the number you get?” And that is the first part of the ten parted question. My brain craves a nap and a family-size bag of m&m’s.

By the time I finish the last page, I am running on one brain cell. That is running around, throwing all the files in my brain into a shredder, and giving up. How did I not know a single answer after the third page? His face is in a pout after the second page, and my heart breaks. I don’t want him to disappoint him. I should study harder to make him proud of me. I groan internally, this is going worse than I expected. “Out of thirty questions, you got seven right!” He says in a cheery tone, and my heart falls out of my body, and my soul has ascended.

“Remember what I said when you started taking the test?” I rack my brain for answers and find nothing. I shake my head 'no', and he pouts, “Aw,... Well, I said take it with a grain of salt. Maybe some quizzes are made impossible.” My jaw drops, “You did that on purpose--!” He shrugs, “Did I?” He makes me rethink what I said, and I pout and cross my arms over my chest. He hands me a pack of m&m’s, “Maybe study harder.” He winks, and I push him to the side when we get up to leave the building. “You know you passed the hardest question on the quiz, right?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head, “What?” He grins, “None of your work made sense, but in the end, you answered four on the last question, and that was the right answer.” I smile, “Sometimes taking your best guess works. Also, four happens to be the professor's favorite number, so if you aren’t sure, guess that.” My jaw drops open again as he ruffles my hair, “You did pretty well, (Y/n).” I brighten at his words and hug him. “I promise to study hard! Two more quizzes before the final test!” He laughs and hugs me back telling me, “You got this!”

It wasn’t until the last study session that I realized how much I would miss Hongseok’s presence. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and when I got to my room, I was bawling. I wanted to see him more. I wanted to be around him and get to know him more. It took me a few moments, but I realized I fell for my tutor. How could I not? When I had a tutor like Hongseok,... Based on all calculations, I have a crush on him. I wonder if he likes me back, but there is only one way to know. Do I have enough courage for that? I’m not sure. I sigh and wipe my tears, saving them for a less important day. I need to study and pass these four exams.

I spend hours studying for tomorrow, although I know my study method. It did not make studying any less boring. I missed Hongseok, who would crack a joke or grab us a snack. He made this so much easier studying five hours with him felt like two. Ugh, now five hours of studying feels like fifteen. At the sixth hour, I call it a day and pull the covers over my head, and dream of failing the exams.

When my alarm clock finally rings, I’m happy to be up and away from those horrid dreams. With a brave face, I get ready for my exam day. I check my phone and see it’s Hongseok. He texted me, “Good luck on your exams! Fighting! You got this!” I smile and text him back, ‘thank you'. I got this, I keep reiterating to myself, but I can’t help but hear the doubtful voice in the back of my head. I am taking all my exams in one instance. So that means five hours of taking four different tests. While I know all the study sessions were preparing me for this moment, I want it to be over and done with already.

Of course, none of the tests were easy they each pulled at my wit's end. I sit there for another thirty minutes waiting for them to grade my tests. Preparing myself for the worst news, I think about Hongseok’s encouragement. If he thinks I’ll pass, maybe he’s right. If it wasn’t just my grades on the line, I wouldn’t care as much. But when it comes to Hongseok, my heart is grasping at the hope that I made it above passing.

The professor looks up at me as I turn a page in my book. I set it down with a bookmark. They smile at me, “Your lowest is an 87,” I gulp, no way, “Your highest is a 99.” My brain is no longer processing words as I rush out of my seat to see my results. “Congratulations, (Y/n). You passed with flying colors.” I smile and shake their hand, thanking them, and skip out of the building. I passed. I really passed! Is this real? I'm not dreaming again, right? I pinch myself and let out a small ‘ouch’ definitely real. I skip out of the building and see someone wearing a blue sweatshirt sitting on the fountain. As I come up closer, I recognize them as Hongseok. I run up to him and hug him. He whispers, “Did you pass?” And I shake my head 'yes'. He runs his hands through my hair, “I knew you would! I’m so proud of you.” Hearing him say that my heart pounds, “Um, Hongseok,...” I pull away from him a bit, my arms still wrapped around him. He nods for me to continue, “Would you maybe,... possibly want to go on a date with me?” He smiles, “I was gonna ask you that!” We both laugh as he hands me a family-size pack of m&m's for us to share. We head over to my dorm, and that is the start of our new beginning.

While we still study together, you can find us lying on the floor while watching the tv and throwing m&m's at each other. Making different kinds of foods together, making an even bigger mess in the kitchen. So yeah, if given the opportunity, I would fail my classes all over again. If it meant I got to meet Hongseok.

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

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“School Life:” A Hoodie Season AU Prequel

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Hwang Hyunjin (SKZ)

Genre: Married Life AU (Hoodie Season Prequel)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Mild Language

Summary: When Y/N is hired as the librarian at her former high school, she isn’t exactly thrilled to return. Of course, there’s also the issue of the persistent dance teacher who seems determined to win her affections.

Here’s a funny story: imagine promising yourself that you’d attend college, nail an awesome degree, and then find a job making six figures on an annual basis, only to return home with a teaching license to work at the same school that you attended when you were 16 while making less than acceptable.

Yeah, life had a funny way of making a joke out of itself, and the punch line is never really that good.

But there wasn’t time for me to complain about my prospects since I had been unemployed for six months with a lousy degree in literature that led to absolutely nothing. In desperate times, we’re often forced to do things that we hate, and I was certainly disenchanted with the idea of working in a high school library surrounded by horny and immature devils all the time.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

Oh, and I also had to deal with one of the most annoyingly persistent men on a regular basis. “What do you want, Hyunjin?”

Despite my dismissive tone, Hyunjin still leaned in across the check-out counter, and I could feel his eyes staring at my ass. “It’s my free period.”

“And?”

“And...you should come have coffee with me,” Hyunjin said, and I finally turned around to endure his flirtatious smile. It had only been two months since the start of the semester, and a grand total of two weeks since Hyunjin had first started trying his luck with me. But I was beginning to think that he didn’t know how to take a hint.

“I’m busy with paperwork,” I said, ignoring his crestfallen expression. However, in my defense, I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and I was far too preoccupied with my own self-loathing to entertain his advances.

“Again?” he pouted, giving me a look that I’m sure won the heart of any girl that he had the chance to impress.

It was too bad that they didn’t work on me.

“Bye, Hyunjin,” I said, giving him a cheeky smile before disappearing into my office.

The next morning, I noticed that Bang Chan, one of the upperclassman teachers, had arranged to pick up some books for his students. It required some set-up on my end with the computer system, and I was completing the necessary paperwork when Chan walked into the library. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a pleasant smile.

“Mr. Bang,” I greeted him in return. “I brought an empty cart for your request.”

“Perfect!” Chan smiled, walking around the counter to pull the cart towards the surrounding bookshelves.

I watched him from the corner of my eye while inputting the final codes for my spreadsheet. “Is this for a class project?”

Chan lifted his head from where he was examining a nearby book display. “Oh! Yeah, the kids like it when we do this kind of stuff. Well, I mean, they don’t like reading so much, but it’s better than tests.”

I nodded my head because I could certainly appreciate that considering some of the more stringent high school examinations that I recalled from my teenage years. “The school wants me to read you this long and boring list of protocols after you check-out something.”

“Yeah...” Chan trailed off with a chuckle. “Do you want to do it now...or?”

I grinned, closing out one of the tabs on my computer screen before joining Chan by the bookshelves. This close, I could appreciate the subtle scent of his cologne and his easygoing smile. “I think we can just skip it,” I said, raising a brow. “I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”

“You’ll let me off easy, Y/N?” Chan asked, turning around with a knowing look and I reveled in our simple flirtation.

“Since you’ve been so nice,” I said, breaking off when I heard the door to the library open again.

“There you are!” Hyunjin announced his presence, waltzing over to the two of us without a single care in the entire world. “How can I last all day without seeing this smile?”

I sighed when said smile disappeared. “What did you do before I came here?”

“It was a lonely workplace,” Hyunjin said, and I noticed the way that he had positioned himself between me and Chan.

“Anyway,” Chan continued, attempting to speak over Hyunjin despite his unexpected presence. “As a thank you, Y/N, would you like to come to the school’s basketball game this Friday? I coach the men’s team, and we’re undefeated this year.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s basically a tradition,” Hyunjin intervened, sending Chan a look. “The boys love the support from their teachers.”

“But Hyunjin, you don’t even-”

“You’ll come, right?” Hyunjin asked, interrupting Chan’s train of thought. In return, the older man merely shrugged before occupying himself with the task of stacking the books that he required onto the cart.

I studied Hyunjin’s beaming expression because, in all honesty, it was one of the very last things that I wanted to do, but it seemed unusually important - which meant that a small part of me was quite curious. “I guess I can try and clear some time,” I said with a shrug.

Hyunjin’s smile was impossibly large, and he leaned against Chan’s cart like he wanted to look as cool and laid-back as possible. “You know, Y/N,” he started. “I think you and I share a lot in common.”

“I doubt that,” I said with a tense smile.

“We both care a lot about our students,” Hyunjin said, and I tried not to laugh because Hyunjin couldn’t begin to imagine just how much I didn’t want this particular job on my resume. “We’re also good-looking people.”

The comment was shallow, and I didn’t feel that impressed by his attempt to compliment me. Meanwhile, Chan snorted around a laugh as he pushed his cart back, nearly sending Hyunjin sprawling into the floor. “I have things to do,” Chan said, excusing himself politely while a flustered Hyunjin tried to play off his decidedly uncool moment.

“If only your students were around to see this...” I trailed off with a distracted sigh, leaving Hyunjin behind spluttering out nonsensical words while I returned to the sanctity of my private office.

On Friday night, I parked my car near the back of the school before entering the loud and unusually crowded gymnasium where, for just a split second, I almost considered walking back out the door. It smelled like sweat and dirty laundry, and the bleachers looked uncomfortable, especially since everyone was forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder. “What fresh hell is this?” I grumbled, shouldering off my jacket since I definitely wouldn’t need it.

I proceeded to walk around the proximity of the gym, searching for familiar faces. I spotted Chan standing on the sidelines with another teacher (Changbin, maybe?) before I realized that someone was calling my name from behind me. I turned around to greet Han Jisung, one of the Freshman English teachers, and he pointed to a section where I recognized several other staff members. “You can join us if you want,” Jisung said and I nodded my agreement.

He led us through the crowd of eager fans, keeping an eye on me as I teetered precariously on the old bleachers wearing high heels that I definitely regretted. But at the very top, I could see some familiar faces, including one that appeared far more eager than the rest. “Oh, Y/N,” Hyunjin said. “I’m glad to see you. It’s nice to have the teachers support our teams.”

“You never come to the basketball games,” Felix said, and Hyunjin shot him a silencing glare.

“What are you talking about, Felix?” Hyunjin asked with wide eyes. “I always support the school.”

“Sure,” Seungmin snorted as if he was simply placating Hyunjin’s obvious fabrication.

“Yeah, I heard it was something else,” I said, taking a seat next to Han before turning my attention to the game.

I wasn’t a big sports fan by any means, and I struggled to make sense of the chaos that included a bunch of teenage boys running up and down the court wearing their brightly-colored uniforms. Sometimes a whistle blew or the shot clock made a truly horrible sound when the buzzer went off to conclude the end of game-time. Otherwise, I felt utterly confused as I sat back and nodded when one of the other teachers surrounding me made a comment that I certainly didn’t understand.

When the game reached halftime, Hyunjin immediately stood up from his seat, starting down the staircase as he chanced a look back over his shoulder. “They have refreshments outside,” he said to me. “My treat?”

I placated him with a nod, following him into the slowly forming crowd attempting to migrate outside of the gymnasium where the smell of pizza and nachos was especially prominent. Hyunjin and I stood at the back of the line, and I swallowed down a feeling of claustrophobia. Meanwhile, I hadn’t noticed that Hyunjin was looking at me until he finally made his voice audible over the white noise of the surrounding crowd.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Hyunjin said, giving me, what I assumed, was his best attempt at a humble expression. “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to offend you...”

“It’s not so much that,” I said. “But it’s tiresome to see you put so much effort into flirting with me.”

“Oh...” Hyunjin said, clearing his throat awkwardly, but he also seemed hurt by my admission. “I’m not, like, some kind of serial dater or something. I genuinely thought you were interesting when we met at the teacher’s conference for the first time.”

“You did?” I asked, studying this vulnerable version of Hyunjin with close scrutiny.

“Yeah.” He nodded, adjusting the beanie hugging the crown of his hairline. “I’m kinda bad at this type of thing, but you’re different from the others. I think you and I both know that’s not always a bad thing, and I was hoping that you might at least give me one tiny little chance at a date.”

I gave him my full attention then, and I found myself taken aback by the look of earnest interest reflecting back at me in warm swirls of brown. “Okay,” I said, deciding that it couldn’t possible hurt to give him an opportunity. “But do me a favor and at least have a better excuse the next time you come into the library,”

Hyunjin had the decency to blush, and I couldn’t help but smile as we took another step forward.

It was Saturday evening when Hyunjin picked me up in front of my small apartment complex. I settled next to him in the front seat, smiling in his direction when he extended a tentative greeting. “How are you, Y/N?” he asked, and I was surprised to hear a hint of nervousness in his tone.

“I’m good,” I said. “But what’s this surprise all about, Hyunjin?”

“No spoilers,” Hyunjin said, and he seemed to regain some semblance of his former confidence as we drove down the crowded city streets in the direction of the main interstate.

“Well, I expect something classy since you made such a big deal about dressing up for the occasion,” I said, reaching down to smooth my hands along the hemline of my skirt.

“I don’t know much about you,” Hyunjin admitted. “But I had a friend give me some advice.”

“Dating advice?” I questioned, smirking in his direction. “You must not go on very many dates.”

“Not really,” Hyunjin remarked. “Despite what you might be thinking, it’s never been a big thing for me.”

I contemplated his words, watching as he drug his bottom lip between his teeth to worry the skin. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Hyunjin said. “I guess I’m not very good at making connections with people. I’ve been told that I can come on too strong.”

I laughed at the honest assessment. “Maybe you just need more practice.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin agreed. “But is that okay with you? I mean, now that you know that I don’t have any idea about what I’m doing.”

“I think it’s more exciting,” I told him. “It also explains why you’re flirting was so over the top at the beginning of the semester.”

Hyunjin groaned as if embarrassed by the reminder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, reaching across the console to take his willing hand. “If you were quiet, then we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Hyunjin let out a shaky exhale, studying me for a moment from the corner of his eye. “I want to make a better impression on you, Y/N.”

“Trust me,” I said with a smile. “The impression I already have of you is quite persuasive.”

Hyunjin nodded, and a comfortable silence proceeded before he fumbled with the buttons on the radio to allow some music to accompany the remainder of our drive together. It was something techno and upbeat - the kind of thing that just made sense to me because I knew that he was a dance teacher. But in any case, I only really started to pay attention when I noticed that we had somehow entered the more upscale part of the city.

Maybe Hyunjin was really doing his best to impress me.

“Here we are,” Hyunjin said, pulling into a parking spot lining the side of a very familiar building.

I realized immediately that it was the opera house which meant that the Hwang Hyunjin had brought me to a pretentious affair that certainly held no appeal to someone like myself. But I tried to keep my smile, nodding at him while he handed our tickets over to the attendant. Meanwhile, at the back of my head, all I could think about was the fact that Hyunjin might’ve been trying too hard with our first date. Especially as I observed the expensive theater.

“I heard it’s a classic,” Hyunjin whispered to me after we found our seats in the middle of the enormous crowd.

“Great,” I murmured back, trying not to feel so out of place.

Instead, I focused on the show in front of me, clapping along with everyone else because I had no idea when it was actually appropriate to do so. In fact, I was forced to laugh even though I couldn’t figure out what was funny, and I shifted uncomfortably when the older gentleman next to me started crying during one of the scenes. Apparently, the gathered crowd of patrons had rehearsed all of this before attending the show, and I was left pretending to understand the social cues that the others had already memorized.

It was actually rather draining, and I forced a smile at Hyunjin when he looked down at me. “You’re not having fun,” Hyunjin finally said during intermission.

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I wasn’t nearly as convincing of an actress as the people on stage.

Hyunjin sighed. “Honestly, Y/N, do you even like this?”

I swallowed hard, struggling under the scrutiny of his gaze. “It’s...alright?”

Hyunjin grinned, but it didn’t seem genuine. “Come on,” he said, rising from his seat. “I don’t think we’ll be missing out by leaving early.”

I reluctantly took Hyunjin’s outstretched hand, allowing him to pull me down the aisle before we trudged through the crowded lobby and into the refreshing night air. The parking lot was still full of cars, and Hyunjin had parked us somewhere near the back since we weren’t aware of the necessity of arriving to these shows several hours before start time. But I didn’t mind the walk because I was trying to think of something to say to a downtrodden Hyunjin who paused next to his car.

“Look,” I finally said with an endeared smile. “You don’t have to try so hard to impress me.”

“I screwed everything up,” Hyunjin said, and I was sad to see that he was genuinely upset as he leaned against the side of his car.

“No, you didn’t, Hyunjin,” I tried to tell him, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“I really like you,” Hyunjin said. “And this felt like my one opportunity to get something right, but I fucked up again.”

I took a deep breath, tilting my head to catch Hyunjin off-guard as I brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “I can tell you have a good heart, and that’s all I care about, okay?”

Hyunjin seemed completely taken aback, and I was worried that I had sent him into some kind of shock, but he allowed one hand to wrap around my waist as he brought us closer. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, and our second kiss was reciprocated by both sides - a tender exchange of out deepest feelings. “Does this mean that I might get a chance at another date?” he asked, looking at me with sincere brown eyes.

“I think you’re worth it,” I told him despite how cheesy it sounded inside my head.

“This makes us official, right?” Hyunjin asked, and I should’ve known better than to expect something normal with him. Doing things by the book with all the cliches involved didn’t really seem like Hyunjin’s kind of thing - and I liked him even more because of it.

“Yeah, if you want labels or whatever,” I grumbled, but his teasing laugh was the best kind of medicine. Needless to say, our first night together was perfect in every way.

#stayverse #stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin fanfic #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids writer #stray kids marriage au #mostlycompetent

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knightofameris · 4 years ago

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passionfruit yakult — oikawa tooru

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛: Neutral 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜: boba shop au, enemies to lovers muahah, cursing, college au as well????, there’s a guy who is really pushy towards making a move on you so almost kinda sexual harrassment, *slaps fic* this baby can hold all the tropes huh, tbH THIS SHOULD BE A LONG FIC BUT UHHHHHHHH, LOTS of cursing. WILL PROOFREAD TOMORROW. 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3.1𝚔 (my longest one wtf)

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍: passionfruit yakult 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 Ding Tea 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔!

⇽ 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 ◜𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜' 𝚋𝚘𝚋𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞◞

Mornings for you weren’t that bad. Actually, you kinda liked mornings (even if you slept late the night before). It’s always a bit cathartic for you when you’re able to wake up early enough to watch the world wake up before your eyes. Plus, the whole thing makes you feel a bit more productive for being able to wake up early. Though, some days are worse than others. Don’t let that deter you, though, sleeping in doesn’t make you any less productive. As long as everyone here is getting the right amount of sleep and not listen to what society deems as productive, you’re doing just fine.

Except, mornings are bad. For one reason only. Working the first shift meant preparing the shop an hour before it opened every morning.

Wake up at seven, lay in bed on your phone for a few minutes, set some music on your speakers, do a bit of morning yoga. Then brush your teeth, eat, get dressed, and pack your bag full of things you’d need for classes along with a change of clothes and it’s already nine. You liked to take your time getting ready in the morning. Get to the train station and clock in to work at ten.

But every morning, every god damn morning when you’d clock in at ten o’clock there’d be some sort of mess. The floor wasn’t mopped, maybe. Or the cups weren’t stacked in their rightful spots. Perhaps there were dishes left over that still needed cleaning. Or, mayhaps, the screens for the menu were left on for some reason? You could go on about it.

Whoever worked the night shifts was surely out to get you. You were sure of it. They just wanted to piss you off for no reason other than to make you hate mornings, because you’re one of the few that actually like mornings!

“I swear to god,” you mutter angrily, “I’m gonna murder the evening shift people.”

This morning, they decided to forget to mop the floors. Or rather, they forgot to do it last night.

“I feel like the more they glare at the floor, the floor’s going to get destroyed,” Yukie said, eating her onigiri as she sat on one of the chairs. She had already finished her morning duties.

Akaashi sighed, about to step in to take over before Bokuto bounded towards you instead.

“Hey, hey, hey! Let me mop the floors instead, we still got a few more minutes before the store opens so just relax!” Bokuto grinned at you, his hands outreached for the mop in your hands. Staring at him with his bubbly and energetic personality relaxed you. Of course, your fellow morning shift coworkers had a distaste towards whoever it was that left the place messy the night before, but you were the one that found it most frustrating. Considering the fact that you’ve left notes for them.

Taking a deep breath, you hand the mop to Bokuto and thank him before walking towards Akaashi who simply stood behind the counter with his hands clasped behind his back. His watchful eyes stayed on your form. The anger that was in you earlier had dissipated. Finally, Akaashi could relax instead of figuring out a way to keep you from aggressively making drinks.

“Do we know who even works the night shift?” You asked, fiddling with the laptop that played the music throughout the shop.

“Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, Hanamaki Takahiro, and Matsukawa Issei,” Akaashi says off the top of his head. “You should really look at the schedule more often.”

You shoot a glare at Akaashi but he remains unfazed. But it surprises you that you didn’t know that pretty boy Oikawa Tooru was the one leaving a mess. Okay sure it can be one of the others or all four of them but the “pretty boy” never sat right with you with his fan club.

“Isn’t Oikawa-san that one pretty boy with a fan club on campus?” Yukie questioned, her onigiri long finished.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah! He plays volleyball with me,” Bokuto said, pushing the mop cart back to the janitorial closet. “I think he also played for his team back in high school. Aoba Johsai?” Akaashi nodded his head in confirmation.

You raise a brow at them, “Don’t you play volleyball Akaashi?” You slightly recall the times Yukie, Bokuto, and Akaashi have talked about going back to their high school to visit underclassmen or their training camps to see how Hinata and Tsukki were doing, whoever they were.

“Yes, but now that we’re in university I don’t play anymore, so I’ve never met Oikawa-san or the others.”

“Ah,” you slightly tilt your head back in realization. “That makes sense.”

A tapping on the door interrupted the conversation and all of your heads turn to the glass doors. It’s a customer, an older one, who simply points at his non-existent watch on his wrist.

“Oops, it’s time to open up shop,” Yukie declared and all four of you went into motion to get started for the day, music began to play through the speakers of the shop.

***

You were always the first of the four to leave from the first shift, since you had less of a gap between the end of the shift to the class you always had after. But fortunately, next semester you were able to find class times that better suited your schedule.

Sitting in the lecture hall, grabbing the necessary items you’d need for the next hour out of your bag, you see Konoha making his way over to you. You met him in one of your classes your first year, but found it surprising that he also happened to be friends with Bokuto and the others since high school.

But the first few sentences he said to you that day probably ruined your week.

“Did you check the schedule of classes?” Your scrunched up face gave him the answer he needed. “The next class for the physics series next semester was moved to the afternoon instead of evening, so you’re gonna have to change shifts.”

“What?!”

Letting out a loud groan, Konoha gave you a sympathetic look, knowing how much you hated the night shift people you always talked about.

***

Getting through the last part of the semester was difficult but not impossible. Sleepless nights spent at the library studying, cramming, working, and of course trying your best to keep calm while cleaning up the mess from the previous night shifts at Ding Tea. Oh right, and telling the manager you’ll be needing a change in shifts.

It worked out well, luckily one of the workers from the night shift also had to change schedules so you simply changed with them. Iwaizumi Hajime. From what you hear around campus, he’s the only one who can keep the reins on Oikawa. So you were wondering how in the world working with Oikawa was going to be like, especially without him.

Oikawa let out a whine on his way to work with his other three friends. Except, Iwaizumi was the only one not wearing the work clothes, considering he was heading to class instead.

“Iwa-chan, why did you have to switch shifts, now we have to deal with one of the morning shift workers.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes with a scowl on his face, “Shut it Crappykawa, there’s four of them so we don’t even know if this person in particular is the one leaving the mess.”

“Still! If I have to deal with cleaning up spilled boba from the floor again, I will-”

“What do you mean, I always end up cleaning the spilled boba,” Matsukawa comments. Iwaizumi whacks Oikawa on the back of his head, saying he had no right to complain if he wasn’t the one cleaning it up before he ended up needing to part from them.

“See ya,” Hanamaki and the others waved at him. “Wish us luck keeping Oikawa under control.”

“Just give him a good smack on the head, it’ll be fine,” Iwaizumi smirked and turned around, heading towards class. Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchanged glances, a silent conversation between the two of them as Oikawa spent the rest of the walk depressed and rubbing the back of his head. When they approached the store they saw you already inside, working diligently to prepare the shop, a few customers already coming by.

As the three boys head into the shop through the back to clock in, you immediately shoot them a glare. But most of it goes towards Oikawa, who gets the sudden chills down his spine.

“You’re late.”

Then a smile appears on your face, greeting the customers after you turn your head away from them.

“Well, this will be fun,” Hanamaki comments, grinning as he puts on his apron to help you out in the front.

Oikawa points towards you half-heartedly as he looks up to Matsukawa, “I feel like they already hate me, what did I do Mattsun?”

Matsukawa simply shrugs, “If Iwaizumi was here he’d just say it’s because of your fanclub.”

“They’re just jealous I have girls and boys and everyone else falling for me,” Oikawa turns his nose up, also heading towards the front since they all knew with his face in the front, they’d definitely get more customers.

***

“Stop making a mess Shitty-kawa! Clean it up next time!”

“Oi! Where’d you get that from? Iwa-chan?!”

“No one wants you here, Oink-kawa.”

“Wh-wha- Excuse me, we get more customers because of me. And Oink-kawa?!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a pig.”

“You’re the one that made me hate mornings, and now I hate the entire day because I know I have to work with you!”

“You’re just jealous tha-”

“No.”

Matsukawa walked up to Hanamaki who was preoccupied on his phone. You, however, marched past Matsukawa and Hanamaki into the back with an angry huff. It was always entertaining to see the Iwaizumi and Oikawa argue, but the two of you had something... Different?

To be quite honest, the two of them were tired of your arguing, especially as the semester came to an end. And Iwaizumi was tired of hearing the two of them complain about you and Oikawa, and then Oikawa complaining about you.

“Hey,” Hanamaki shifted his phone for Matsun to see, “there’s a party tomorrow night.”

Matsukawa raised a brow, “We have work tomorrow.”

Hanamaki gave him a pointed look, “Do you really want to deal with them?”

Matsukawa glanced over at Oikawa fuming at the front then over to you, angrily shoving and reorganizing the boxes in the back. Meeting his strawberry-blonde friend’s eyes, his decision was made.

***

“Sorry guys,” their manager, gave you and Oikawa a pitied look with a shrug as she prepared to leave after checking in. “Matsukawa-kun and Hanamaki-kun never took a sick day so I gave it to them. No one else could come in and besides, it’s Thursday. Not a lot of people come in on Thursdays.”

You tried reaching for and arguing with your manager but she narrowly avoided your hand when she made it through the door to escape the bickering she only ever wanted to hear about, but never experience it.

Oikawa opened his mouth to speak until you raised your finger up in the air, silencing him immediately.

“I’ll work front, you stay in the back.”

And for once, Oikawa didn’t have the energy to try to retort.

At this point, the two of you just learned to sorta put up with each other. It was hard, but it was necessary. And, you would never admit to it out loud, but you were getting tired of being angry all the time. And yet, you still always let yourself be angry at him.

Because he was annoying.

Even when he talked about volleyball and wanting to be the best and to finally beat that Ushiwaka guy or outsmart Kageyama. Okay you’ll admit, his passion is pretty incredible. But Oikawa was annoying.

That’s it.

Final.

Luckily, your manager was right. Today was a slow day but it was a slower day than usual. Which you couldn’t complain about. It’ll be boring, sure, but it’ll be easy. You just wished that Hanamaki and Matsukawa were there. They were funny, and you liked talking to them.

The front door opened with a ring and you and Oikawa both called out, welcoming the man that walked in. You didn’t pay any mind to him, just another customer and he seemed to be someone who was a college kid.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” You tried putting on your best smile and the man arched a brow.

“Uh, the signature is fine.”

“Sure thing, what size?”

“Large. No boba.”

“Alright, and will that be all?” After typing in his order, you look back up, the fake customer service smile still painted on your face.

“How about your number?”

You blinked. The guy wasn’t necessarily bad looking, but the more he stared at you the more you got a weird vibe from him.

You chuckled nervously, “Uhm, sorry-” you tried coming up with an excuse as to why you didn’t want to give him your number.

“Come on, baby,” he placed his hands onto the counter, leaning in towards you as you froze in place, “I can be your sugar daddy, how about that? You don’t have to work in this place and all you have to do wou-”

“Excuse me sir, we have the right to deny anyone service and I think you need to leave.”

The man glanced behind you and you saw him visibly shiver before he stood straight up. It seemed as if the man was debating whether or not he wanted to try to argue.

“The door is right there,” Oikawa placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Please leave.”

Looking up at Oikawa, there was a sort of deadly gaze with his eyes being overshadowed that would’ve made you shit your pants but knowing it wasn’t directed at you but rather this man, it made you feel safe. And the way he spoke, it was lower than usual, but filled with a sense of authority.

Taking in Oikawa’s figure made you realize how tall he was and how fit he got from volleyball. His shoulders were incredibly broad and the squeeze was firm yet it didn’t hurt.

The ringing of the bell from the front door brought you out of your daze as Oikawa’s face softened when looking at you.

“Are you alright?” Oikawa asked, his chocolate-brown eyes searching yours. When you don’t reply he says your name.

You suddenly take a step back, away from him and glance off to the side.

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, you’re shaking.” Oikawa took another step towards you, placing both of his hands gently on your quivering shoulders. You didn’t even notice you were shaking.

Oikawa’s thankful that you don’t step away from him. To be honest, he was surprised you didn’t retort back at the man. At the same time, however, the vibes the man gave even made Oikawa himself uncomfortable.

“Here,” Oikawa began pushing you towards a chair and sat you down, “I’ll close up shop but just sit here for now.”

“What? But-”

“It’s almost closing time, it’ll be fine~!” His cheery voice coming back easily. Usually it’d piss you off but, you’re more than glad that he’s trying to make you feel better, safe.

Oikawa went off, locking the front door and turning off the open sign. The setter began humming as he prepared some drinks. Watching him was always interesting. This time it was rather relaxing. You’ve always known Oikawa was a hard worker, as you could tell from when he talked about volleyball and what Bokuto always talked about. But he was a hard worker in every aspect. He charmed customers and he made drinks exceptionally fast and accurately.

To be honest, you actually didn’t even notice he made any messes. And in your experience with his fan club members always coming in to the boba shop, they were genuinely nice people and he was nice to them as well.

You let out a groan. You had an image to uphold, you couldn’t go back on what happened in the beginning when you said you hated him.

But then he placed a drink in front of you and sat across from you, sipping on his own drink.

You eyed it warily, then looked back up at him as if you were asking him what it was.

“Passionfruit yakult. With boba, it's usually too sweet and I noticed you don’t like too sweet drinks so it’s half sugar.”

Grabbing the drink, you pierced the top with a straw and drank it. Though, you’ve never had it, it was good. You were also pleasantly surprised that he even remembered your preferences.

Wait.

No, you weren’t pleasantly surprised.

God, you wanted to rip your hair out.

You set the drink back down, chewing and gulping the boba in your mouth.

“Thank you, by the way,” you murmured just loud enough for him to hear.

He hummed in response, “The man was being a creep. If it were me however, you’d be fallin-ack!”

You whacked him across the head, but a smile sat on your lips as your fingers settled to caress the boba drink on the table.

Oikawa rubbed his head, about to make a retort but instead stared at you. Oikawa found that he liked it when you smiled. He kinda wanted to make you smile some more.

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:

At the end of every morning shift...

“Bokuto-san, make sure you clean up the mess before you leave,” Akaashi called out, grabbing his things before heading off to class.

Bokuto waved his friend good bye with a grin on his face. And as the boy cleaned up the shop, he somehow forgot to clean up said mess.

At the end of every night shift...

“Are we really just going to leave this mess?”

“They do it to us, so,” Hanamaki shrugged at Matsukawa. The brunet raised a brow then snorted, shutting off the lights before following his friend to the station.

𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢, 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗!

𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜' 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: look.... There was a plot hole and it doesn’t line up with boba shops but let’s just assume that there’s like an hour between the morning/night shift where the store is closed and that’s how they’ve never interacted....(i’ve only worked in a ramen shop adn that’s how it worked there ahdjfkhasdf and i foRGOT OKAY I JUST... IT NEEDED TO MAKE SENSE)

#oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x male!reader #oikawa tooru x neutral!reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa tooru x you #haikyuu fluff #enemies to lovers #ameris' boba shop #a.writes #a.bobashop #💜.oikawa

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years ago

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Rating: G

Summary: When Marinette has to cook for her family reunion, Adrien offers to help. Only one problem: he has no idea how to cook. With Plagg's help, Adrien proposes a Disney-inspired solution that will either keep him from making a fool of himself, or backfire terribly. (Spoiler alert: it backfires terribly.) A university-aged Adrinette reveal fic.

Word Count: 6437

XXX

“Plagg, what am I going to do? I don’t know how to cook!” Adrien pulled at his hair as he paced circles around his apartment.

Plagg, meanwhile, lazily hovered with his paws crossed behind his head. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you tried to swoop in like some kind of superhero.”

“I am a superhero.” Not that it mattered, because his superpower was destruction. Maybe his Lady would’ve been able to help Marinette cook dinner for her family reunion, but Adrien was … well. Even though the cat miraculous didn’t actually make him more disaster prone, he had enough bad luck in the kitchen on his own. He’d survived on spaghetti and takeout since moving into his own apartment this semester.

“Why don’t you just tell her you can’t do it? Something came up. You fell headfirst into a pool of cream cheese. You got zapped by an akuma and all your hair fell out.”

“That hasn’t happened in at least a month. Besides, I can’t flake out on Marinette. She needs me.” He stood up straighter.

“What she needs is someone who won’t turn soup into an explosive. What about your friend Alya? Isn’t her mom some kind of chef?”

“She’s out of town for Christmas. Nino too, or I’d ask him to help me.” Did he know anyone else who could teach him how to cook in one night? Kagami was back in Japan, Chloe wouldn’t touch an oven to save her life, Luka was on tour with XY… Ladybug was pretty much his only friend still in town. She would probably be willing to teach him, but on their last patrol she’d mentioned she’d be busy the next few days with her own plans.

“You need to get some more friends, kid.”

“It’s kind of late for that,” Adrien murmured. Too many people in his classes were more interested in the Gabriel name than in him. Besides, he might not have made a lot of new friends, but he’d gotten much closer to Marinette and his old friends now that he had more control over his schedule.

“Well, as your very first and best friend—”

“Chloe was technically my first friend.”

Plagg glared. “As your first and best friend, I will help you for the low low price of two wheels of Camembert.”

Adrien stopped pacing. He only realized he’d ended up in the bathroom when he caught a glimpse of his reflection.

“Wait. You know how to cook?”

Plagg scoffed. “I’ve been alive since the dawn of time. I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You also thought that my blender was a jet tub for kwamis.”

“Okay, so you humans have invented some fancy new gadgets since I was last out, big deal. I still know more about cooking than you.”

Unfortunately, he was probably right.

“Alright. Deal.” Adrien held out a finger, and he and Plagg shook on it.

“Alright, loverboy, let’s get cooking.”

XXX

“No, not like that! What are you trying to do, knock someone out with that thing?”

“At least I wouldn’t do it with the smell!” Adrien instinctively waved the frying pan in front of his nose, and the burned remnants of roux glopped out onto the tile.

“Coward. It’ll taste good once you put it all together.”

Adrien wasn’t convinced. But then again, he hadn’t followed Plagg’s instructions exactly. Plagg never gave him quite enough time to pour the ingredients in the pan or measure the spices with the little spoons.

“I wish you’d be able to help me while I’m there.” Adrien sighed. “I’m going to forget all of this as soon as I leave.”

“You can’t be good at everything, I guess.” Plagg shrugged. “You can still always call your girlfriend and say you gave up.”

“She’s a good friend. We’ve been over this.” He’d promised not to call Marinette ‘just a friend’ on the grounds that she deserved better than that. But she still wasn’t his girlfriend. Which was fine, so why did his stomach sink slightly? Probably just nervousness about the task ahead of him.

“And I’m not giving up. What if you just … hid in my hair and whispered advice?”

Plagg tapped his chin. “Maybe if you wear a hat …” A grin suddenly split his tiny face. “Hey, what if you wore that ug—uh, that beret Ladybug gave you? You know, from your fan club?”

“Great idea!” Adrien bolted out of the bathroom and towards his closet. He wore the hat every once in a while—its ridiculous energy was too good to leave hidden like it had been in lycée. He made a special point of wearing it to every meeting with his dad, though he did feel a little bit nervous of wearing it around Marinette. She was in their university’s design program; she’d probably think it was tacky.

Oh well. He’d probably been tackier around her before.

“You sure you’ll fit in here?” Adrien squinted at the underside of the beret before pulling it over his hair.

“Looks cozy enough to me.” Plagg slipped under, and Adrien felt him shuffle around. Unfortunately, his voice was too muffled for Adrien to make out after that.

“Plagg?”

“Blegh.” The kwami scrambled back out and scraped his tongue with his paws. “Your hair tastes like shampoo. I can’t talk without getting a mouthful of it.”

“Guess that isn’t going to work …” He pursed his lips as he adjusted the beret. “It’s too bad real life isn’t like Ratatouille. You could just tug on my hair and do all the cooking for me.”

Unless …?

“Oh no, don’t give me that look.” Plagg crossed his arms. “That’s just a movie. Though it would be nice to show you what it feels like to get dragged around for a change …”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Adrien didn’t really think it would work either, but Plagg was magic.

“Fine. But I’m upping my price to three wheels.”

Plagg slipped back under the beret, and Adrien felt a tugging sensation on his scalp. But nothing seemed to happen.

“Guess that was a pretty dumb idea,” he admitted sheepishly.

Then green light crackled from his ring.

His arms flung into the air.

“Ack! Plagg, did you do that?”

Adrien heard a muffled cackle from under the hat. Then his legs started walking towards the refrigerator.

“Okay, so this is … working? This is working!”

Plagg missed a few times before guiding his hand to pull open the fridge. Of course, his next step was to reach for a wedge of Camembert and hold it up to his head.

“The sweet taste of victory,” Plagg said while popping out to swallow the wedge whole.

“More like the rotten taste of old cheese.”

But Adrien still grinned. However Plagg had pulled off his puppeteer trick, Adrien wasn’t going to make a fool of himself tomorrow.

XXX

“Adrien!” Marinette threw her arms around him as soon as she opened the door. “Thank goodness you’re here. My parents just called and they got a last-minute order and—eep!” She sprung back, her eyes wide as she stared at his beret.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to feel embarrassed. Marinette wouldn’t judge him based on what he wore. “It was an old gift. I like that it drives my father crazy.”

Plus, Ladybug had hand-delivered it, but she probably didn’t care about that.

“W-well then, it’s perfect.” She grinned too wide. “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a hat before.”

“You’ve definitely—”

“Anyway, no time for that! There’s only five hours before Uncle Wang gets here. Nonna is already at my parent’s, and my other grandma and grandpa are coming for the first time since Mom moved here. Not to mention fourteen of my cousins I’ve never met and their parents!” Marinette rushed towards the small kitchen, which was already full of steaming pots and used pans. She threw on her pink oven mitts and pulled a tray of golden-brown pastries out of the oven.

Adrien swallowed. Marinette’s kitchen might look like a war zone, but she clearly knew what she was doing. What if he just got in the way?

“How did you end up in charge of the food?” he asked while throwing on a mint-green apron from inside the pantry door. Her great-uncle was a world-class chef, and her parents owned a bakery. Her grandpa Rolland had even taught mice how to bake.

“I’m not in charge. I just need to help a little since Uncle Wang is running late, and the reunion starts tonight, and Grandpa won’t bake anything in bulk because ‘that’s not how it’s done’’—she used a gruff imitation of his voice—“and my parents have so much bakery work to do. I’m just trying to do what I can.”

She sighed as she stirred a pot of wonton soup. “Unfortunately, I can’t do a lot.”

“What are you talking about? It looks like you could feed an army with all this.”

He carefully dodged Marinette as she scrambled in a drawer for a fork. She tested the rice noodles boiling behind the soup, then grimaced and slumped against the counter, fork nearly slipping from her fingers. Her hair was falling out of her bun, and flour smudged her pink apron, contrasting with the splatters of dark sauce.

“I hope so. There’s just … so much to live up to, you know? Everyone on both sides of my family cooks. And now I have to merge styles from two different cultures in a way that will please everyone …”

Her gaze swept across the counter, where dumplings and quiches, brothy soups and thin crêpes—even ratatouille, ironically—lay in various stages of completion. The savory and sweet fragrances somehow melded together in harmony.

“I know I can’t understand how hard that must be. About trying to bridge two different sides of your family, I mean. But you’re amazing, Marinette.” He stepped closer to her and brushed a streak of flour off of her cheek. “You’ve already worked so hard on all this; I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t love it. May I?”

He gestured to a spoon sitting in one of the soups, and she nodded. He raised it to his lips and sipped the tangy broth. A bit of crunchy bamboo shoot added texture to the savory liquid. He didn’t want to eat too much—it was for her family, not him—but if it weren’t for that, he could’ve downed the whole bowl. He could practically taste the love and care she’d put into it.

“See? Amazing.” He grinned. “Just like the rest of the food we’re going to make.”

At least, the food she made would be amazing. He just hoped that what he made with Plagg’s help would be edible. And not offend her family.

Her lips parted before curving into a smile. “Right. Thank you, Adrien.”

She paused, staring for a moment, until one of the shallow pots started bubbling over.

“Ack! The filling!”

She rushed to switch off the burner and remove the lid before sighing loudly. “I think it’s still alright. Now I just need to fold this into the dough …”

“Can I help with that?” he asked, feeling like a rock in the middle of a river as Marinette flowed between the cooking stations around him.

“Huh? Oh—um, why don’t you work on filling the crêpes instead? This baozi is a Chinese dish, and it’s my first time making it by myself. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer! You were so sweet to come at all, and—”

“Marinette.” He squeezed her shoulder gently, wishing he could relieve some ot the tension there. “I’ll do the crêpes.”

She let out a breath. “Thanks. I was going to do a pear-hazelnut filling, if you’re okay with that? The pears are in the bottom right drawer of the fridge, and the hazelnuts are on the middle shelf in the panty. All the spices are up there.” She pointed to the cabinet above the sink.

“Sounds perfect,” he said with the fake confidence he usually saved for his modeling jobs.

Before he could ask for a recipe, she went back to work, leaving him to his own devices in front of a stack of unfilled crêpes. A mixture of the rich smells and his own nerves started to turn his stomach.

“Are you ready, Plagg?” he whispered, adjusting his beret.

In response, his scalp twinged, and then his hand rose and formed a thumbs-up.

“Well, here we go.” He cracked his knuckles.

He rinsed out a pan that it looked like Marinette had previously used for some kind of stir fry. That wouldn’t be a problem, would it? It looked like every other pan in the apartment was in use already.

Marinette didn’t stop to correct him. Then again, she seemed to be in ten places at once, adding spices and stirring and adjusting dials and rummaging through cupboards, all in between filling her baozi. Watching her work was so mesmerizing it was almost too easy to ignore his own job.

Until Plagg started tugging his hair again, anyway.

This is going to be weird, he thought while Plagg directed his hands to chop the pears. He was pretty sure he could’ve done that himself—he didn’t want his kwami chopping off one of his fingers. But resisting at this point would just increase his chances of accidentally getting stabbed.

Besides, Plagg was fast. He diced the five pears in the time it probably would’ve taken Adrien to cut up one. Granted, he also left a juicy mess on the counter, but it sounded like they were on too much of a deadline to worry about that.

Plagg tossed them into the pan, cores and all. Adrien frowned at that.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered.

“What?” Marinette asked from where she was stretching out dough.

“Um, nothing! I just, uh, talk to myself while I cook.”

“Oh, me too. I was just trying not to do it in front of you. You know, in case I sounded crazy.” She laughed, seeming to release a little bit of tension. “I think I picked it up from my mom. She always says the steps out loud as she does them so she doesn’t forget which one she’s on.”

He smiled at the image of her doing this with Mrs. Cheng. “Did you cook with your mom a lot?”

“I don’t think I’d say a lot. I was pretty busy in lycée, and I didn’t appreciate her culture as much as I do now. I wish I would’ve learned more.”

“It looks like you learned a lot if you can put all this together.”

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

He retrieved the hazelnuts and tossed them into the pan. She still had her back to him, the baozi taking up most of her attention. Should he ask her to check his work so far? Plagg didn’t hesitate to nab some spices from the high cabinet and start sprinkling them into the pan.

“Wait—not that one!” he hissed, trying to drop the shaker that read chili powder before Plagg could add it.

“Adrien? Is something wrong?”

He spun, quickly shoving the container behind his back. “No! Everything’s just peachy—er, pear-y.”

She giggled at his joke, even though it had to be one of his lamest puns yet.

“Okay, but you can let me know if you need help. Sorry I just kind of threw you into this.” Her arm gently brushed his as she dialed back the heat on the noodles. “Um—is there a reason you’re holding chili powder?”

“I was just moving it so I could reach the, uh…”

Plagg helpfully directed his arm towards a different spice.

“... garlic salt?”

Marinette blinked, and he hastily shoved the garlic salt back, selecting cinnamon instead. He should’ve known that trusting the kwami who liked eating rotten cheese would be a mistake.

“You’re so funny, Adrien.” She laughed again. “But, um, you might want to double check your pears. I think some of those still have the cores in them.”

His face flushed. Thanks a lot, Plagg.

He picked out the cores with a pair of tongs, hoping that his kwami wouldn’t try to take over again. Adrien might be bad at cooking, but at least he wasn’t going to try and poison Marinette’s family.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much idea of what to do next. He’d turned the burner on high, and the pears were starting to sizzle. How did nuts cook? That didn’t make a lot of sense to him. He probably needed something liquidy to go with them, right?

Aaaand the pears already smelled like they were burning. He quickly flipped back the knob while he searched for something to turn into a sauce. Milk? That would make it nice and creamy, right?

He grabbed the half-gallon from the fridge and splashed a bit into the pan. Drops splattered the counter, and he winced.

That was when Plagg again decided to take over. Adrien grit his teeth as he selected the block of muenster from the cheese drawer. That definitely didn’t belong in the crêpe filling, but Adrien couldn’t get him to stop without making a scene in front of Marinette. Who would then wonder why he was yelling at himself, and either think he was insane or find out his secret identity. Both of which would be unacceptable.

He growled, hoping Plagg would get the message. If he did, he didn’t show it. At least Marinette didn’t hear over her own soft humming.

The sliced cheese went into the pan, plopping wetly in the milk. Maybe the finished product would surprise him, and cheese and pears would create a tasty sweet-savory combo, and Marinette would be super impressed by his originality, and she’d invite him over to cook with him again, and they’d make a cute romantic dinner together …

He banished that daydream before he could think too much of it.

By that point Plagg was using his arm to whisk the milk and melting cheese together. The pears and hazelnuts had settled to the bottom of the pan. He frowned as the whisk failed to unstick them.

“This isn’t working,” he said under his breath. “We might need to start over.”

He swore he could hear Plagg’s irritated sigh. But the kwami jerked the pan up, taking it towards the sink.

“Hey, what are you—Plagg!” he shouted before he could stop himself.

Plagg dropped the pan in the sink, spraying hot milk-cheese-pear slime all over the backsplash. And all over Adrien’s apron.

And, most importantly, all over his face.

“Adrien!” Marinette dropped her unfinished dumpling back on the counter. Filling spilled out as she rushed to his side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

He hurriedly tried to splash cold water on his face, but spilled it more down his shirt than anything. She offered him a damp hand towel, which was much more helpful.

“I’m so sorry.” His face still burned, but not from the hot food.

“It’s okay! Accidents happen—trust me, I would know.” She smiled before her eyes widened. “Oh no, your beret!”

“What?” He slapped his hands to his head, prompting a tiny yelp from Plagg. So he was still there. Under his hat. Which was still on his head. Phew.

“It’s got milk on it.” Marinette reached up like she intended to take it off.

“No!” he shouted, and she stepped back, startled.

“S-sorry! I just thought I’d help you clean it off, since it seems so, um, important to you.”

“I like it with the milk on it. It adds, uh, character?”

He heard Plagg snicker from beneath the beret.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “If you need to take a break, or, um, get a new shirt … n-not that I want you to take off your shirt! Uh—forget I said that.”

She shook her head, and more strands fell out of her bun.

He frowned down at his shirt. Unfortunately, the splatter had made it under his apron, and his shirt was pretty gross. He even felt a slimy pear sliding down under his collar.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Finishing all the food for your reunion is more important.”

“No, don’t worry. I can handle it. Just having you here to keep me from freaking out has helped more than you know.”

She took the towel back from him with a smile. Frankly, he was still surprised she wasn’t angry with him. He’d come to help, and all he’d done so far was waste her time.

“I’m really not bothering you?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Bad idea. His hands were still a bit wet and sticky.

“You could never bother me, Adrien.” Her cheeks pinked before she turned back to fiddle with the soup.

“Really? I thought …” He bit his lip, remembering how many times he’d startled Marinette before. How many times he’d seemed to make her uncomfortable, or awkward, or … he wasn’t really sure what. There had always been something keeping them apart, no matter how close they became.

Maybe it’s just your little crush, Plagg would’ve teased. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to talk while trapped under the beret.

“Thought what?” she asked once she’d added some seasonings to the soup.

“I thought I’d be your last pick for cooking help,” he said, which wasn’t quite a lie. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I … well, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Best to just admit it now, rather than after he’d ruined her family reunion.

Marinette blinked before covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known you probably never cooked at your house. And here I am just asking you to throw together a crêpe filling!”

“It’s okay! I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve told you, I just … I wanted to impress you.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted that much. He was sure he heard Plagg laughing from under his hat.

“You … wanted to impress … me?” She pointed to herself, as if there was anyone else in the kitchen he might have been talking about.

“Is that really so surprising?”

“Uh—yeah, actually.” Marinette stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Plagg hadn’t peeked out, had he? “I might be able to cook, but you’re good at everything. Fencing, basketball, Mandarin—which took me ages to get halfway decent at—not to mention you’re drop-dead gorgeous—”

His heart stopped. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

“I mean—you’re a model; of course you’re gorgeous! It’s literally your job. I bet people call you gorgeous all the time.”

“Not when I’m covered in slimy food, though.” He grinned. She thought he was drop-dead gorgeous! Maybe he hadn’t made too much of a mess after all.

“Well—you would be a lot more gorgeous if you took off that stupid beret!” She pointed at his head.

“W-what?” He pulled it down over his ears. “This is my emotional support beret. I can’t take it off or I’ll cry.”

“Why did you have to pick that one, though? It’s so—I don’t know!” She gestured vaguely. “It looks like a fourteen-year-old made it!”

He pouted at her. “Hey, be nice. It was probably fashionable in Brazil at the time.”

It did look pretty silly, but that was its appeal. Fashion-savvy Marinette probably wouldn’t understand that.

“R-right. In Brazil.” She shook her head. “Why do you like it though?”

He blushed. Aside from spitting in the face of the Gabriel brand, it also reminded him of the day Ladybug had appeared in his room. That serendipitous event had never happened before or since.

“How embarrassing does it sound if I say my old crush delivered it to me?”

“Your—your crush?” She blinked. “But then—you had a crush on Ladybug?”

The soup started bubbling again, but she made no move to quiet it.

“Of course I have a crush on Ladybug. I’m pretty sure all of Paris has a crush on—wait, how did you know Ladybug was the one to deliver it?”

Marinette’s face went pale. “I—um, well, I … I think the soup is burning!”

She rushed to stir it again, but Adrien caught her hand.

“Wait, Marinette, please.” His heart beat faster. He’d never told anyone about Ladybug’s visit. She hadn’t been surprised when he mentioned Brazil, either.

But what could he say? Come out and ask her if she was Ladybug? That would be too good to be true, right? Marinette couldn’t be Ladybug; he’d seen them together once. But he’d pulled crazy stunts to protect his identity too.

She bit her lip, but didn’t pull her hand from his.

“I can’t answer that question, Adrien.”

It wasn’t a confirmation. But it wasn’t a denial either.

It had been five years. Five years, and he still didn’t know who his partner was. If she was here, in front of him, after all this time …

… he’d still respect her choice not to tell him. As much as it hurt, he’d do it.

“Alright.” He sighed. “I get it.”

An uncomfortable silence pushed between them, punctured only by the bubbling soup and beeping oven. The first batch of Marinette’s baozi was done; she removed them without speaking.

Why couldn’t they go back to five minutes ago, when she’d called him gorgeous? He was already thrilled to hear Marinette say that. But if she was his Lady too? He’d melt just like that cheese in the pan.

It was going to drive him crazy if he thought about it too long. He turned on the faucet, hoping that the loud water would drown out his thoughts as he did the dishes. At least that was one task he could accomplish without ruining any more of Marinette’s food.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, barely audible over the running tap.

“What for?” He was the one pushing the boundaries between them. If she was even Ladybug at all. Maybe he’d managed to misinterpret everything, but he couldn’t see how.

“For not being honest with you. I wish I could, I swear.” Her hands squeezed her dough, and it oozed out between her fingers.

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” he said with resignation. Ladybug was the Guardian. She couldn’t risk revealing her identity. Even if it felt unfair, he should be used to it by now.

But before, you didn’t think Ladybug was one of your best friends.

Even more than that, if he was honest with himself. He’d wanted to be closer to Marinette for a long time now. What if he was just deluding himself with wishful thinking?

“I wish I didn’t, sometimes,” she murmured.

He switched off the faucet and turned to face her. Maybe some things needed to stay secret, but not everything.

“Marinette?” He swallowed.

She looked up from where she’d been absently rolling the dough again. So much for not wasting her time.

“Y-yeah?”

He didn’t expect to confess to her while standing in her kitchen, with Plagg hiding under his old beret, with his clothes covered in the ruined crêpe filling. But it was important, and if he could finally admit it to himself, the least he could do was admit it to her.

“I don’t just have a crush on Ladybug.”

“You—you don’t?”

Was it just his imagination, or did she deflate a little?

“She’s still very important to me. I know she always will be. But I’ve come to realize how important you are to me, too.” He watched her face as he spoke, but her wide eyes were impossible to read. Hopefully he wasn’t ruining everything with what he was about to say.

“I like you, Marinette. As more than a friend. And I would never want to make you uncomfortable. All I’ve ever wanted is to be closer to you.”

For a moment, her face didn’t change. She just stood there, staring blankly, like someone had pressed a pause button. He would’ve thought Bunnyx had stopped time to reset his screw-up if it weren’t for the soup continuing to boil over.

“Marinette?” he prodded, his stomach beginning to bubble as nervously as that soup.

She jumped. “Yes, I—comfort you me make—yike lou—”

A stream of incoherent noises followed that. Oh no, he’d broken her! Why couldn’t Plagg have taken over and stopped him from talking?

“—ugh! I thought I dopped stewing this years ago!” She dropped her burning face into her hands.

Adrien reached out to touch her shoulder and then thought better of it. His arm fell limply to his side.

“I’m so sorry. You can just forget I said anything. I’ll—I’ll let you finish up the food and get out of your way—”

“No!” She waved her hands, startling him so bad he stepped back—and slipped in a puddle of spilled dishwater.

“Adrien!” She caught the front of his apron as he fell, but that just meant she was pulled down on top of him.

He yelped as his head cracked against the linoleum. At least she landed on his chest, his arms cradling her.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry—AAAAAH!”

“What, what!?” He sat up as she scrambled off of him.

That was when he caught sight of the striped beret lying in the puddle next to him.

Oh no.

Plagg laughed nervously from where he was tangled in Adrien’s hair. “Hey, Pigtails.”

“Chat?” Marinette smacked her hands to her cheeks. “You’re—you’re Chat Noir?”

“Surprise!” Plagg wasn’t in Adrien’s line of sight, but he could hear the grin in his kwami’s voice.

“Where’s Bunnyx when you need her?” Adrien groaned. Not only was his confession a total bust, but he also ended up giving away his most important secret.

And he still didn’t know for sure that she was Ladybug.

“You’re Chat Noir.” Marinette plopped down into the puddle beside him. “Adrien is Chat Noir.”

“Yeah, yeah, we got that,” Plagg said. “Are you gonna put the poor kid out of his misery or not?”

“Huh?” She blinked.

“He’s in love with you. Hopelessly, stupidly in love with you. He loves you almost as much as I love cheese.”

That was a pretty big point in favor of Marinette being Ladybug. He guessed he should count himself lucky, but that also meant he’d just slipped and fallen in dirty dishwater in front of not only Marinette, but Ladybug.

He closed his eyes. “Plagg, please let me die in peace.”

“... Adrien?”

He felt her breath fan over his face, and his eyes back snapped open.

Her gray-blue eyes were hovering right above him. Well, he had said he wanted to be closer to her.

“Y-yeah?”

“Please don’t die,” she said softly. Her hand came up to cradle the side of his face—or maybe she was just trying to make sure he hadn’t bruised himself. “I l-love you too.”

Every one of his brain cells fizzled out. She. Loved him?

“I think I am dead.” He smiled, reaching his arms around her. “I’m pretty sure I just went to heaven.”

Her face flushed. “You’re always going to be that cheesy, aren’t you?”

“Are you really surprised, Princess?”

“No.” She leaned in, brushing her nose against his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Ew, gross.” Plagg gagged. “This isn’t the kind of cheese I signed up for.”

“You’re the one who said she should put me out of my misery.”

“Yeah, well I think you both need to put this food out of its misery. The soup’s burning.”

Marinette sprung up, eyes wide. “Oh no! We still have to get everything ready! And the crêpe filling isn’t done and I haven’t finished the baozi—”

“It’s okay! We can still get it all done … somehow.” Adrien winced as he stood up. Now they were both covered in a mix of dishwater and crêpe filling. “Just keep Plagg away from it all. He’s the reason I ruined the pears. Oh, and he’s the reason I was wearing that beret, too.”

She went back to work as if nothing had changed between them. It was honestly kind of amazing how quickly she had the noodles and soup under control, like she hadn’t just been freaking out moments before.

“He’s got as awful taste in fashion as he does in food?” she asked.

“No—well, probably, but that’s not important. The beret was to hide him so he could help me cook. Like in Ratatouille.”

She blinked. “That works?”

“It would work better if my kwami knew how to cook, but yeah.”

“Hmm …” She tapped her lips—lips he would hopefully be able to kiss once all this was taken care of, he thought with a giddy grin—before snapping her fingers. “That’s it! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!”

“What’s it? Wait—Marinette, where are you going?”

“You’ll see!” She winked before disappearing behind her bedroom door.

He gave the soup a careful stir while waiting for her to come back.

“You’re welcome.” Plagg crossed his arms and smirked irritatingly.

“For what?” Adrien scowled. “All you did was give away my identity and embarrass me in front of the love of my life!”

“Love of your life?” Marinette appeared behind him.

He nearly knocked over the pot of soup. It was what he deserved for startling her so much back in lycée, he guessed.

Plagg snickered. “Bold words coming from the guy who called her a good friend earlier.”

“She is a good friend! And the love of my life! She’s Ladybug, Plagg!”

He pointed to the giant red-and-black egg in Marinette’s arms. The Miracle Box. She was Ladybug!

“You didn’t know that when you said it five seconds ago,” Plagg pointed out.

“Yeah, well—I guessed it,” he huffed.

It had been the only answer that made sense. And it was true. Hopefully he could blame the tears pricking his eyes on the onion in the soup. If not, though, crying over his amazing partner (who loved him!) was probably still the least embarrassing thing he’d done today.

Tikki poked her head out of a cookie jar. By now he’d been startled so many times that her presence hardly registered.

“Don’t worry, Adrien. Marinette has said way more embarrassing stuff than that.”

“Which we won’t repeat in front of him,” Marinette said dangerously.

His head was still spinning from all the revelations. Of course, he wasn’t too surprised—who else but Marinette was amazing enough to be Ladybug?—but it was still a lot to take in at once.

“While I definitely want to hear about that later, what’s the Miracle Box out for? Is there a kwami of cooking? Or do you think Sass could give us a Second Chance on all this mess?” he asked, trying to bring his focus back to the problem at hand.

“What you said about Plagg gave me an idea.” She punched in a code on the spots, and the egg cracked open to reveal the miraculouses. “He might not know how to cook, but I’m sure some of the other kwamis do. And if not, I’m sure they can follow directions.”

“Great idea, Marinette!” Tikki clapped. “Wayzz and Pollen are pretty good at cooking, from what I remember. Orikko is too, but you shouldn’t cook chicken in front of him.”

“Makes sense.” Adrien nodded before turning to Marinette. “You think they’ll be enough to make up for how badly I messed up?”

“Of course they will. We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir; there’s no mess we can’t fix.” She smiled as she equipped the bracelet and hair comb, then passed the Miracle Box to him. “Have Tikki help you pick out a few more kwamis. Together we’ll get this done in time. I know it.”

Relief washed over him, and he smiled back.

“As you wish, My Lady.”

XXX

“You’re sure I won’t be intruding?” Adrien asked as they pulled up to her parents’ bakery.

“Of course not. There’s no way my family would leave out my boyfriend.” She shifted her tupperware to her other arm and reached up to adjust his (newly cleaned) beret. “Even if he has terrible fashion sense.”

“It’s a Marinette original! There’s nothing more fashionable than that!”

“An original from when I was fourteen!” she pouted.

“It’s too late, Bugaboo. I’m never taking it off.” He kissed her forehead.

“I’ll make you a new one. Anything would be better than mixing lacy hearts and stripes.”

“I guess that’s fair. But I’ll still treasure this one forever.”

She rolled her eyes affectionately as she pushed open the bakery door.

Not long after, Adrien, Marinette, and her family were settled around the dining room table, a feast of French and Chinese cuisine in front of them. The two sides of her family mingled, mixing as seamlessly as the dishes. Rolland was deep in conversation with Wang about traditional cooking techniques in France versus China. Gina (who’d insisted he just call ‘Grandma’) was regaling two of Marinette’s cousins with tales from her travels. More of her younger cousins ran around the table, barefoot soles slapping against the hardwood floor, their hands occasionally reaching up to snag a dumpling or croissant. It was a tight fit, but Adrien didn’t mind. He was thrilled to be included at all.

While they ate dinner, he kept catching her looking at the hat. But every time she did, he’d make eye contact with her, and then she’d blush and smile bright enough that it was worth every glare.

“So, what are you up to these days, son?” Tom asked over his bowl of wonton soup.

Son. Already, Marinette’s parents felt more like family than his own. He would love to be part of her family for as long as she would let him.

Hopefully forever.

“Oh, not much.” He put an arm around Marinette. “Just learning how to cook from your amazing daughter.”

He winked, and she blushed again. Red was her color in and out of the suit, it seemed.

“He needs all the help he can get. You should’ve seen what he almost put in the crêpes today.”

Tom laughed. “Well, it looks like it all turned out perfect. Thanks for your help, both of you.”

Under the table, Adrien and Marinette shared a fistbump. This wasn’t the first adventure they tackled together, and it wouldn’t be the last.

#miraculous ladybug #fic tag #adrinette #adrienette #reveal #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tali writes #ml

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vannahfanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Piano Man

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Characters: Hajime Iwaizumi, Tooru Oikawa

Hello, everyone! I’m happy to present my story for the Seijoh Exchange for my giftee, kamunamis! I hope you all enjoy a good dose of IwaOi AU fluff!

Hajime scrubbed the residue from the whiskey glass with a thin white rag, then lifted it over his head to inspect the surface, using the refraction of the fluorescent lights in the crystalline surface to illuminate any specks he might have missed. Once he was satisfied that the glass was indeed clean, he set it beside the rest of the clean glasses before picking up the next dirty one, cleaning the soap residue away. While he used his thumb to push the rag against the sleek glass, he lifted his brown eyes to sweep across the bar, making sure he hadn’t missed any new customers while attending to his other chores.

The old man who’d been throwing back beers like water for the last hour was still going strong, smacking his lips lazily while he watched the volleyball game on the television hanging above the bar. The college student who’d been flirting with a sorority girl had apparently failed in his attempts at courtship because he was now sitting alone and grumbling into his hard cider. The pair of young moms who’d come out for a girls’ night had abandoned their martinis to sip at their waters, sobering up to return home to their children. The alcoholic who’d come in for his daily dose of bourbon was now passed out asleep, filling the air with loud, obnoxious snores. Hajime tipped his head at the bouncer, Issei, indicating it was time to wake the man up and call him a cab.

Hajime liked his job, all things considered. Though it was hard, and sometimes he had to deal with the most blockheaded of society, it was well worth it for the things he overhead. Working in a job like this, he had really come to appreciate just how colorful people were.

For example, those two moms were actually single moms— both of their husbands had perished in active duty, and they’d bonded over their struggles. He’d learned today that one of them actually had a date in a few days, and he’d congratulated her by giving them their first two martinis on the house. The sleeping drunkard had squandered his life savings gambling, leading to a nasty divorce, and now he just nursed his sorrows with alcohol instead. The gang of sorority girls giggling over margaritas in the corner was celebrating their finals for the semester, all congratulating each other on earning top marks. Hajime saw the highs and the lows of society, a rainbow of colorful folks from all walks of life.

Yet his eyes always drifted to the door when the most colorful of the bunch to frequent the bar strode in.

Tooru Oikawa smiled prettily at the waitress as she passed by carrying a tray laden with drinks, making her flush and hurry away as fast as her wedges could carry her. A few of the men watching the volleyball game at a table covered in empty glasses and the remnants of bar snacks raised their drinks to him, and he paused to chat amicably with them about the state of the game before bidding them a pleasant night. As he strutted across the bar, he shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over his shoulder, then rolled the sleeves of his button-up shirt to just below his elbows. Hajime couldn’t help the way he swallowed thickly at the way Tooru’s muscles gleamed in the lowlight of the bar— how did a pianist have such defined arm muscles, for crying out loud?

Tooru was the bar’s hired musician. He came in three nights a week— Ladies’ Night, their Friday Happy Hour, and Saturday Game Days— to provide live music via the large grand piano that sat on the small stage in the corner. His music was always a hit, and the regular customers liked his electric and charming personality— especially the waitresses, so Hajime always had to be extra vigilant in making sure they were actually delivering their orders instead of ogling at the pretty musician. Admittedly, Hajime was also a fair bit jealous and wanted to be the only one to stare at the handsome man, but like hell he would ever admit that aloud.

“You’re staring.”

Hajime nearly jumped out of his skin as Issei spoke. He shot a cold look at the taller man, making the bouncer tip back his head in laughter. Snorting, Hajime stomped over to the other end of the bar to tend to a customer, then walked back to begin mixing rum and various fruit juices into a glass. “You can’t blame me,” Issei purred as he leaned against the counter, his amused eyes watching the streams of alcohol and fruit juice cascade down into the glass. “Your pining over him is one of the few things that brings me entertainment.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not very entertaining to me,” Hajime gruffed back, shooting him a glare before carrying the rum punch over to the girl who’d ordered it. He snatched up another glass to begin cleaning it on the way back, still glaring at Issei. “Why do you always come over here to nag me about him?”

“Besides the fact that you look at him like you want to jump his bones?” Issei laughed, and Hajime threw his rag at him. Issei pulled it off his face and dropped it on the counter, and Hajime snatched it back up to resume cleaning the glass. “Come on, Hajime, it’s painful watching you pine over him. Just grow a pair and ask him out already!”

“Please,” Hajime snorted in derision, setting the clean cup down and picking up another. “A guy like that? You know he’s taken.” Someone at the bar called for another beer, so Hajime ignored the way that Issei’s eyes gleamed knowingly to grab one out of the freezer and carry it over to the man. When he came back, Issei was drumming his fingers against the wood of the counter, leaning his cheek in his hand while he gazed at Hajime like he knew something downright devilish.

“Come on, Hajime, you’re insulting my skill as a wingman,” Issei hummed. “I know for a fact that he’s single, and I know for a fact that he thinks you’re cute.”

Hajime’s face blazed bright pink, and he froze on the spot, struggling to process what Issei said. A girl came up to the bar pleasantly asking for a daiquiri, and it took Issei reaching forward to nudge his arm for him to snap out of his stupor. After hurriedly grabbing the ingredients and throwing him in the blender, he leaned over the counter to ask over the crunching ice and swirling fruit juice, “He thinks I’m cute?”

“Very,” Issei smirked with a meaningful wiggle of his eyebrows. Hajime’s gaze slowly drifted to Tooru, who was now sitting at the piano. Behind his glasses, his eyes were intensely focused, but a smile alit his lips as his fingers glided across the keys. Hajime had honestly never cared about the music; Tooru’s movements just seemed like magic every time he played, his body moving so languidly in rhythm with the sweet chimes of the keys. He forgot to blink, forgot to breathe even as he watched him, so he definitely forgot about the daiquiri. “Hajime, your drink,” the bouncer chuckled while snapping his fingers in front of Hajime’s face, making the ravenet jump slightly and hurry to finish making the drink before the girl’s pleasant attitude took a nosedive.

“Look, man,” Issei said when Hajime slumped back against the counter in front of him, pouting as he ruminated on whether or not to finally ask Tooru out. “If you don’t make a move soon, someone else will, and I shudder to think of how grumpy you’ll get watching him strut around with someone else.”

Hajime’s lips curled down into a frown just thinking about it. No, he would not enjoy that at all. Still, it was always a drag, asking someone out— even if Issei had given him a fair bit of confidence that Tooru wouldn’t refuse. He drummed his fingers on the table as he studied the wood grain of the counter in contemplation. Finally, he grumbled, “All right, all right, I’ll do it if it means getting you of my ass.”

“You wound me,” Issei huffed and splayed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “I go to the trouble of wingmanning for you, and you treat me like this? You’re so cold.”

“Shut up and get back to the door,” Hajime said gruffly, shoving Issei lightly in the shoulder. Still, a smile danced on his lips, one that Issei didn’t miss. The tall man simply hummed “Good luck~” as he headed back to the door, leaving Hajime to figure out how in the hell he was supposed to ask a guy like Tooru Oikawa out on a date without looking stupid. Hajime was good at pretty much only one thing, and that was making drinks.

Wait. That might just be to his advantage, he thought, his gaze sliding to the bottles of liquor lining the back wall. He sidled up to the shelves, crossing his arms as he studied the various drinks; he then looked over his shoulder at Tooru, who was lost in the piano notes. Yeah… Yeah, I think that’ll do, he thought and looked back at the shelves, then leaned up to grab a bottle of vodka and some sour apple liqueur. I think this’ll do just fine.

Hajime approached Tooru as he was taking a break. The piano player straddled the bench, kicking his feet against the solid wood while he watched the volleyball game with interest. He saw Hajime approaching from the periphery, and when he turned to look at him, his eyes brightened with delight. It made Hajime’s heart stutter; half of him wanted to grin like mad, and half of him wanted to hurl the caramel apple martini in Tooru’s face for some inexplicable reason.

“Ooh? Is that for me?” Tooru crooned with delight when he saw the green drink in his hand. “I hope it isn’t a replacement for my paycheck,” he joked as he shifted on the bench, sliding over to allow room for Hajime to sit. Hajime gave Tooru the martini as he sat down, and he watched the brunet study the caramel swirls on the inside of the cup, the green liquid swirling within, and the apple slice garnishing the rim with more interest than he wanted to show. With a pointed look at Hajime, Tooru sipped at the martini, then pulled away while smacking his lips. “Wow. That’s a good drink, Mr. Bartender.”

“I thought you’d like it, Piano Man,” Hajime smirked. “You seem the type to enjoy fruity martinis.”

“Oh no, did the bouncer tell you?” Tooru said with a playful pout, leaning in a little close to Hajime’s face. He blushed on instinct, and looked at Issei to find him smothering a laugh with his hand. “That rascal,” Tooru continued with a rumble in his voice that made Hajime’s nerves sing. “I thought I could trust him.”

“Issei?” Hajime huffed. “You can’t trust him as far as you can throw him.” His blase humor could always help him keep his cool. Thankfully, Tooru laughed, his eyes glittering as he studied Hajime over the rim of the martini. His nervousness returning, Hajime’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips. Immediately, Tooru’s eyes flicked down to his mouth and then back up to his eyes, and Hajime swore his face was going to catch on fire.

“Do you enjoy fruity martinis, Hajime?” Tooru asked, the mischievousness gleaming in his eyes belying the innocent tone of his voice. Body heat rising to uncomfortable levels, Hajime began tugging at the collar of his uniform shirt.

“I might be so inclined, depending on the martini,” he grumbled, looking away for a second. Of course, he couldn’t help but glance back at Tooru out of the corners of his eyes, and he was relieved to find a gleeful expression lighting up his face. “I can’t drink on the clock,” he continued slowly, “but I get off in an hour, if you’re willing to stick around and hang out in this dive for a while.”

“I’d love to,” Tooru hummed. He then tossed back the rest of the martini, squinting his eyes at the sour liqueur. Hajime thought he would hand the glass back to him, but while maintaining direct eye contact, Tooru licked every single bit of the caramel swirls from inside the glassHajime's mouth fell open as he unabashedly watched Tooru’s tongue slowly lap up the thick caramel syrup, so stunned that he didn’t even have the sense to blush. Chortling in a low voice, Tooru tapped the martini glass against Hajime’s cheek to indicate that he was finished.

“Better get back to work, Mr. Bartender,” he winked. Robotically, Hajime rose from the piano bench and took the glass before walking back to his work station. He chanced a look at Issei, and nearly hurled the glass across the room as the bouncer stuck out his tongue and wiggled it at him. Red-faced, embarrassed, and admittedly excited, Hajime dunked the martini glass into the sink of soapy water for the resident dishwasher to attend to before looking back at Tooru. He was back to playing again, eyes lidded and a smile on his face as his body swayed to the beat.

Tooru looked at Hajime from across the room, his smile widening until his eyes crinkled up, and Hajime couldn’t help but melt a little. I suppose I’ll have to thank Issei later, he thought with a small sigh, picking up his rag and another glass to begin cleaning again. Though I might punch him in the face first, he thought with a slight grimace when he noticed the bouncer slinking over, looking like he was ready to give Hajime all the hell he could offer.

“So? Did my wingmanning bear fruit?” Issei hummed. Hajime just snorted, scrubbing a particularly troublesome speck from the glass before lifting it up to the light.

“Please. The caramel apple martini was a way better wingman than you,” Hajime huffed, but he couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face. “Though I suppose you helped a little, so thanks.” Issei just snorted and mumbled something about how Hajime was an asshole, but he had a smile on his face, too.

The piano tunes continued to echo through the bar, a colorful melody for the colorful people drawn to this little hole-in-the-wall. Here, Hajime saw the best and the worst of society, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world— because it was the best place to be, he thought with a smile, dropping the glass to look at Tooru again. It was the best place to be.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#iwaoi #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

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