#but i definitely had no room for it and no transport for it (i used a two-wheel cart and bungees for the cabinet)
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jensownzoo · 6 months ago
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Got a new piece of alleyway furniture in need of love/repair yesterday afternoon:
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It's the base of a hoosier cabinet in a pretty sad state. The sides are delaminating and at least two of the legs are splitting. And you can see the state of the finish.
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Not a valuable antique so I feel no guilt in what I'm going to do to it to give it an alternative function.
It's going to turn into a combination plant stand (that enameled top makes it perfect) and cat bed (in the cabinet part. The drawers, which still work well, will be nice storage. Might see if my seed packet collection will fit or I might put cat toys and brushes in it, who knows?
It's not going to be a professional job for sure. I'll probably just sister some additional supports to the insides of all the legs to fix that issue. Then see about getting some thin plywood or Masonite board to fit into the sides. Remove what little finish remains, sand, and paint/stain.
Probably should either put a little lip on the inside of the cabinet part to keep the cat bed from slipping out. Or I could keep the door shut and just remove the left panel entirely to allow feline access. I'm a little concerned that if I make it too private, however, some little kitty (lookin at you, Princess Many Toes) will start using it as a litterbox.
Anyway, it's not a project I'm going to start until I finish the current garden project since I'd like to get that done before we hit 100F again.
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julesinsummer · 8 months ago
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Unbelieveable! (Theodore Nott x Reader)
theo nott x fem!reader | drabble | fluff
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... in which theo is distraught by the news you've given him
"you are unbelievable!"
"theo, my love, it's really not-"
"you are an evil, wretched witch!"
y/n sighed heavily and dropped the book she'd been trying to read so desperately. "honey. it's not that big of a deal."
theo shook his head and grimaced at her, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed down upon her. "it is. it's a big deal to me and that means it's a big deal."
"just because i said i couldn't go to italy with you all summer doesn't mean i'm evil or wretched," y/n drawled, crossing one leg over the other. theo had been pouting for the last ten minutes, all due to the fact she'd informed him that his grand plan to spend all of summer break in italy with her had been immediately shot down by her parents.
theo dropped his body weight on the couch beside her, groaning as he laid his head on her shoulder dramatically. "yes it does," he mumbled, "you hate me."
y/n laughed, running a hand through his hair. "they were never going to say yes to that, babe," she informed him, watching as he seemed to curl up to her side. oh, how clingy he could be. "they said i could stay a week at a time, no more and no less."
"that's like not seeing you at all!" theo shouted out, latching his arms around y/n's waist.
"it's definitely not," she corrected, shifting around until she found a comfortable position for the both of them. "my grandparents are staying the summer with us and would absolutely disown me if they knew i was spending the entire summer with my boyfriend and not my family."
theo grunted in what seemed to be annoyance or disapproval. "they suck, then."
"they do," y/n agreed, twirling his hair between her fingers. "but they're rich and spoil me, so i must submit to their whims."
"i'm rich and i spoil you," he added miserably, "and i'm way hotter than your grandparents."
y/n recoiled a bit, snickering at theo's antics. "don't use my grandparents and hot in the same sentence," she retched internally, "and i'll do my best to come as often as i can. besides, after next year we can just move in together."
theo perked up at that, the prospect of never having a second away from y/n delighting him. "you're never allowed to leave the house. you have to stay with me all the time."
"not happening," y/n deadpanned.
"worth a shot," theo chuckled, tightening his hold on y/n's body. "can we go to bed so i can actually hold you and not get a fucking neck cramp?"
y/n laughed and nodded, moving to get up from her position on the couch, waving her wand at her book to transport it to her own bookshelf. theo followed her as she took steps away from the common room.
"i can't believe you'd still want to sleep in the same room as an evil and wretched witch like me," she joked as she opened the door to her dorm room.
theo pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "as evil and wretched as you are, you're mine and i'll always want to be with you."
y/n smiled up at him, meeting his eyes. "unbelievable."
"mine."
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themultifanshipper · 6 months ago
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Hi I love your writing!!Could you maybe do the 🟡 prompt from your list with Oscar. I’m thinking maybe a female driver reader enemies to lovers kind of situation but it is really up to you
Thanks💜
You and Oscar didn't usually find yourselves battling on track, because you didn't usually qualify close to each other. But this time… this time you had locked out the front row at your home race, and it was going to be a blood bath.
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Warnings: hate sex, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, the usual really, although I find the ending surprisingly fluffy for me but oh well, also Oscar is kind of a dick in this ngl, also Bestfriend!Lando bc I cannot seperate them even in fiction
Requested from my prompt list
Obviously this was a fight you refused to lose. You were in front of your home crowd, qualifying p2 behind your teammate for one of the rare times your car hadn't failed you half way through qualifying.
These days you felt like you were driving a fucking Williams.
Anyway, the lights went out and for the next hour and a half the cameras did not leave you two for even a second, the battle for p1 being so intense. You'd lost count of how many times you had overtaken each other, and both of you had damage. Part of your front wing was missing, your DRS was glitching, and Oscar had floor damage. Both of you were too stubborn to come into the pits so you kept going despite your engineers' orders, and on the last corner of the last lap, you brake checked Oscar.
You don't even remember doing it. All you remember is the crowd roaring your name as the McLaren crew lifted you out of your seat and carried you over their heads chanting the song they had affectionately dubbed yours.
“She's a maniac, maniac on the floor! And she's driving like she never has before!”
You remember the podium ceremony, Lando had overtaken Oscar thanks to you and was spraying you in the face from his p2 spot, as Oscar scowled and sprayed Zak, who stood off to the side, ready to give you two a stern talking to after the ceremony.
You remember being yelled at in his office. Something about him smoothing it over with the stewards so that you didn't get a penalty at your home race, at which point Oscar also started yelling, at Zak, at you, and at the unfairness of it all.
You remember going out to a club with Lando, the heavy bass of the music (and the alcohol) transporting you to another realm of existence as you danced together.
It's when you'd had one two many tequila shots (courtesy of Lando's fat bank account) that you thought it would be a good idea to call Oscar.
Unfortunately for him, he answered.
“Hello? Why the fuck are you calling me at two in the morning? Has something happened? Is Lando in a coma? No? Then don't fucking call me”
And with that he hung up on you. So you rang again, not one for giving up so easily.
“For the love of Christ, WHAT?!”
“Oscar! Why aren't you out celebrating your podium?” you said loudly over the music.
“Yeah Oscar I miss partying with youuuuu” Lando whined into the phone over your shoulder.
“Fucking leave me alone!” Oscar shouted, and he hung up again, but even though the club was loud, you definitely heard his voice crack.
So you and Lando had the marvelous idea to go to his hotel (you were staying at your own place, with Lando, it being your home race) and knock on his door. And he opened it to the sight of you and Lando clinging onto each other for dear life.
“Fucking hell you two look like shit, what have you been doing?” his eyes roamed your figures, staying a bit too long on yours, and on your ridiculous dress (picked by Lando of course) that probably exposed more of you than it covered.
The two of you barged into his room and sat on his bed. While he just stared you down.
“Well?... what the fuck do you want?” he scowled.
“We came to ask why you're moping here instead of celebrating your podium with us” Lando pouted.
“What is there to celebrate? You-” he pointed at you “ruined my race by making a dangerous move. I'm not celebrating a fucking p3 when I would have won fair and square!”
You and Lando looked at each other, which was a mistake, because you immediately started giggling uncontrollably.
“GET OUT!” Oscar shouted louder than you'd ever heard him, and Lando immediately ran for the door.
Mopey grumbling Oscar was hilarious, but you'd come to find that furious Oscar was downright terrifying when he needed to be.
You weren't scared though, you'd always found angry Oscar incredibly hot, and right now you'd had enough alcohol to make sure you couldn't run even if you tried.
The furious expression on his face as he stared you down did make you squirm though, and your thighs clenched together involuntarily.
His eyes were drawn to the movement, quickly scanning the expanse of your bare thighs before snapping back up to your face and taking a step towards you.
"Well?! Anything to say for yourself? A fucking apology perhaps? Or even just a reason as to why you're still sitting on my bed in that slutty excuse of a dress instead of running away like Lando?”
You were outraged at his words. How dare he say that.
“How fucking dare you!” you managed to stand up on wobbly legs to shove him backwards. Unsurprisingly he didn't move an inch. “This dress is perfectly fine! It's a club dress!”
“Oh please! It's indecent, I can almost see your-”
“SECONDLY!” you interrupted before he could finish that particular sentence, the thought of him actually seeing you so exposed slightly overwhelming you “I didn't run away because I’m not fucking scared of a dickhead like you!”
He stepped closer to you, so close that if he extended his arm he could touch you if he wanted to. His eyebrows were lost in his hairline, and there was a fire in his eyes you had rarely seen there before, as he shook with rage.
“If you’re not scared of me then why are you trembling like a fucking leaf? Is it because you're cold in that pathetic excuse of an outfit?”
“You seem awfully focused on my dress for someone who claims to be so nonchalant” you purred, stepping closer.
“Fuck you.” he scowled.
“Ooh is that a proposition?” you smirked, your bodies were almost touching now.
“Careful, don't get too cocky, I'm obviously not as easy for it as you” he spat, eyes darting down to where goosebumps had risen over the exposed skin of your breasts.
“How could I not get cocky?” you leaned in close to whisper “I'm the one who got a first place trophy a few hours ago…” and with that, you pushed past him and started walking towards the door.
But just before you could grab the handle, you were pushed flat against the door roughly and you gasped as Oscar growled in your ear.
“Fuck you, and fuck your trophy, and fuck this fucking dress!”
He wasted no time spinning you around and slamming you back against the door, plastering himself against your body and slotting a thigh between yours, forcing you to spread your legs for him.
“This dress is going to be useless by the time I’m fucking done with you”
You were reduced to a puddle of mush as his hands ripped the flimsy fabric, flinging it across the room and his mouth immediately went to your tits, mouthing over them and groaning into the skin. One of his hands went up to grab your hair and the other grabbed your ass hard enough to leave bruises. He tensed his thigh as you grinded on it shamelessly, whimpering as the friction of his jeans felt like heaven against your barely covered cunt.
His mouth went up to your neck, licking and sucking the skin it found in it's path before pausing and looking at you, his eyes hooded and mouth gasping for air as he panted into your mouth.
“I’m going to make you pay for the race, sweetheart, I'm going to fucking ruin you.”
And ruin you he did. Your body was on fire, your thighs were fucking soaked, and Oscar had you arched into the bed, ass up in the air as he pounded into you while holding your head up to look at yourself in the mirror that was facing the bed.
You looked like sin personified, makeup running down your face, drool and tears making a mess of the sheets as yet another orgasm wracked through your body.
He pulled out and turned you over, spreading your legs, weeping cunt on display for him.
He moaned at the sight of your used body, marks and bruises blooming all over it.
“Fuck you're so perfect for me, I can't get enough of this pussy” he slid his tip through your slit a couple of times, just enough to make you start begging again, before sliding back in to the hilt. “Fuck- begging so perfect for me when you're not running your mouth” he growled before pounding into you mercilessly and rubbed the meat of his palm over your clit. The friction was too much as your hands flew to his shoulders and your nails dug in, making him groan as his pace faltered and he grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head.
His face hovered inches above yours, sweat dripping off him onto you as he pounded into you for all he was worth.
“Too much…” you gasped “Osc, I can't”
“Shhhhh baby, you can do one more for me, I know you can.”
He kissed you, much too soft in comparison to how he was railing you into next week. And he kissed away the tears on your cheeks as his hand let your wrists go in favour of wrapping his arms around you to lift you up into his lap, deepening the angle of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure.
He buried his head in your shoulder as he rolled his hips, fingers going back to play with your clit as you writhed above him.
“Oscar fuck… So deep… I’m so close, fuck don't stop!” You wrapped your arms around him as you finally kissed him without thinking, making him groan into your mouth as his hips never faltered.
He wouldn't dream of stopping, he’d been waiting for this moment a long time, and now that he had you, he was going to do everything he could to keep you.
“Come for me love, come on my cock, good girl…” he panted into your mouth.
It was like a volcano erupting as you came around him. You clamped down hard around his cock and it threw him over the edge as well, biting into the meat of your shoulder, so deep he could almost taste blood. You gasped and your hips bucked into his gently as you both rode the waves of your highs together.
Once the two of you regained a sense of where you were, wrapped in each other’s arms and covered in sweat, you just looked at each other, neither of you knowing what to say.
Daylight was already filtering in through the blinds and for the first time, you noticed the dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks.
Neither of you wanted to let go, despite supposedly being bitter rivals. The two of you surged forwards at the same time and his lips were soft against yours as you clung to each other, hands grasping every piece of flesh they could reach. And you didn't let go until the sun was well and truly up, and Oscar ignored the calls from the team to say they were going to leave without him if he didn't get there soon.
“Stay with me for a few days?” You whispered into his neck as you lay under the covers with him.
“Okay” he kissed the top of your head sleepily, drifting off after an intense race weekend (wink wink).
You checked your phone for messages, only seeing one from Lando.
‘Do I even need to ask where you slept last night?’
Despite the obvious bait from your best friend, you decided to reply:
“Nope... but fyi I haven't actually slept at all ;) ’
You turned your phone off, and snuggled back under the covers with Oscar, who was already snoring softly behind you.
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incognit0slut · 6 months ago
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Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene I: The Suspicious Scheme)
The three times you sense something strange when everyone pairs you with Spencer, and the one time you understand why.
Part warning: Definitely inaccuracy in autopsy procedures and Spencer’s educational background, it’s hard writing a genius Words: 5.6k (not proofread, I’ll do it when I have the time so please excuse me if you see any mistakes) A/n: I tried to make this part shorter but I gave up. I hope you don’t mind reading more😌
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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I. The Forced Partner
There was usually a system when Hotch paired the team up, a method to his leadership that balanced skills and personalities to get the job done efficiently. But as Spencer and you were directed to the autopsy room together, you couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch was pushing his luck—or preferably yours.
It was weird. Two weeks had gone by since the last case where he had to witness you both sparring, and you would’ve thought he’d keep you apart. Yet here you were, together again, stepping into the cold, sterile room. 
The faint smell of antiseptic filled the air as you pulled on your gloves, the latex snapping against your wrists. A woman in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, turned to greet you and Spencer. She extended a hand. 
“I’m Dr. Nina Patel, I’ll be overseeing the autopsy today. You must be from the BAU.”
You nodded, shaking her hand firmly. 
“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” you introduced, gesturing towards Spencer, who offered a brief nod and a tight lip smile in greeting. Dr. Patel returned the gesture and motioned for you both to approach the table. 
“Our Jane Doe was found early this morning in an alleyway downtown," she explained, pulling back the sheet to reveal a woman appearing in her late thirties. "There are no apparent injuries, and no ID was found with her.”
Spencer stepped closer. "Any indication of the time of death?" 
"Preliminary estimates put the time of death at approximately eight hours before she was found."
You watched as she started pointing to various parts of the body. 
"She was also found with her clothes in perfect condition. It’s possible she was placed there post-mortem."
Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Could suggest transportation from another location.”
You moved to the head of the table, examining Jane Doe's hands and nails. "No defensive wounds," you added. "She didn't fight back, or more likely, wasn't conscious during her final moments."
Dr. Patel nodded as she considered your observations. “It’s plausible that a strong sedative was used, which would leave minimal to no struggle marks. We’re running some tests as we speak.”
Spencer chimed in quickly after that. “The Unsub might have used succinylcholine, or even benzodiazepines,” he suggested. Then, turning toward you with a condescending tone as if simplifying it for your benefit, he added, “They’d metabolize quickly and would require a toxicology screen to detect definitively.”
You rolled your eyes.
“That’s impressive, Dr. Reid,” Dr. Patel remarked, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer than seemed strictly professional. You narrowed your eyes at her. “Did you study pharmacology formally, or is this a passion of yours?”
“I actually did a bit of formal study during my Ph.D. programs.”
“Oh, really? What did you study?”
“Chemistry and Engineering. Pharmacology intersects quite a bit with those fields, especially when looking at biochemical reactions.”
Dr. Patel seemed genuinely impressed. “That’s quite a formidable educational background. No wonder you’re so thorough with your analyses.”
You could feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Her admiration was professional, sure, but the way her eyes softened when she looked at him, the way her voice dipped just so—it was a tone you recognized all too well.
She was flirting with him.
You watched them, your gaze sharp and assessing. Although it wasn’t like Spencer to notice her advances; he was smart, yes, but his brilliance often left him oblivious to the layers of personal interaction that didn’t involve textbooks or theories. And Dr. Patel, with her easy smile and obvious interest, seemed to have her focus on him rather than the body lying between you.
You cleared your throat, louder than necessary.
“Can we continue?” 
Dr. Patel seemed to catch your eye, her expression shifting back to professional as she nodded. “Of course.”
She resumed her explanation, detailing the various findings and pointing out subtle indicators on the body that might have otherwise gone unnoticed. Spencer listened intently, his gaze shifting between Dr. Patel and you, noticing the subtle tension in the room, but didn’t comment.
It wasn’t until you had all the information you needed—and after you caught one last flirtatious look from Dr. Patel directed at him—that Spencer finally spoke up.
“She seems nice,” he remarked as you both stepped outside the building, heading toward the parking lot.
You shrugged. “Sure, if you say so.”
Spencer glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Am I missing something?” 
You looked over at him, debating whether to explain, before you finally sighed. 
“It’s just... she seemed a bit more interested in you than the case,” you said, trying to keep your tone light but failing to hide your slight irritation.
And then he noticed it. The subtle tension in your voice, the way you avoided his gaze, the underlying frustration—it clicked. “Wait, are you... jealous?”
“No, I’m not!” You replied quickly, then softer, “I’m not.”
“You sound like it.”
You scoffed. “No, I sound like a friend trying to remind you that we have a case to focus on.”
“Oh, so now we’re friends?”
“I meant that in the broadest, most professional sense of the word.”
“Right,” Spencer replied sarcastically. “I didn’t realize jealousy was part of professional behavior.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” you snapped. “Stop making it into something it’s not.”
“Sure.”
“Reid.”
“Y/L/N,” he shot back in the same flat tone.
Dear God, why was he so infuriating? How he had this ability, this perfectly annoying talent to get under your skin without seeming to try was beyond you. You both stared at each other for a while, until finally, you broke the silence with an exasperated sigh.
“Let’s just go,” you muttered, brushing past him.
You walked a few steps ahead, trying to shake off his words. It was absurd. The very idea was ridiculous when you were focused on the case, on solving the mystery—nothing more.
You were not jealous.
II. The Unavoidable Flight
“I’m telling you, she was definitely flirting with him,” you said, your voice a mix of disbelief and annoyance as you and Penelope made your way toward the plane. “It was so obvious, the way she kept looking at him, the tone of her voice. I mean, does professional decorum mean nothing anymore?”
“Why are you acting so surprised? Wonder Boy is actually quite the catch,” Penelope responded. “He’s not my type, but he clearly has admirers.”
Your eyes involuntarily drifted toward the man in question, who was walking a few paces behind, engaged in conversation with JJ. He was casually gripping the strap of his satchel bag, laughing at something JJ had just said. You narrowed your eyes.
“Well, I don’t understand what they see in him.”
“It might be that genius brain of his—totally irresistible to some.”
“It’s annoying, is what it is,” you grumbled, quickening your pace as the plane came into view.
Penelope responded with a sly grin. “You know what you sound like?”
“What?”
“Like someone who’s maybe a little jealous.”
You frowned, hating how she was the second person to conclude your irritation with something else. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on. You seem unusually focused on how others interact with him.”
“I’m focused on maintaining a professional work environment,” you defended, trying to keep your voice even as you approached the steps of the plane. “Not about… whatever you’re implying.”
“Fine. If Dr. Patel makes her move and actually calls him, what would you do?”
Your eyes widened. “What? Who did you hear that from? Did he tell you? When did she call him?”
“Hypothetically, oh my god,” Penelope laughed, stepping onto the plane as you followed, slightly flustered. “I’m just saying, hypothetically, if it happened, what would you do? How would you react?”
You paused at the entrance, processing her question. “I’d do nothing.”
“Nothing? Really?”
“Yes, I’d do nothing because I’m not jealous.”
“That’s what any jealous person would say.”
You narrowed your eyes at her as you walked past the entrance, and when you caught her making herself comfortable on the long couch by the front, you quickly made your way to the back of the plane.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“To find a spot where my supposed jealousy isn’t your inflight entertainment,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I knew you were jealous!”
“Supposed jealousy!”
Her laughter trailed after you, ringing down the narrow aisle as you navigated through the plane, bypassing Rossi, who was typing away on his phone, and Hotch, who sat across from him with his eyes closed, leaning back against his seat. You walked further down the aisle until you spotted an empty spot at the very back of the plane, looking very isolated and inviting.
It was perfect.
“Garcia! That’s my usual spot,” Spencer’s unmistakable voice echoed through the plane as you made yourself comfortable in your chair.
From the corner of your eye, you could see him standing over Penelope, a hand gesturing toward the seat while his other hand clutched his bag.
“But it’s so comfortable,” Penelope responded, settling deeper into the plush seat. “Come on, Reid, I don’t travel as much as you do. Let me have it.”
Spencer paused, his initial protest fading as he took in Penelope’s exaggerated comfort. “Where would I sit?”
“You can sit…”
You quickly closed your eyes. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t–
“Over there! There’s an empty spot in front of Y/N.”
You were going to kill her.
You sank deeper into your chair, hoping to avoid any forced small talk or, worse, awkward silence with him. Maybe if you were lucky enough, he’d pick another chair—perhaps next to Hotch, or Rossi, or—
A cough interrupted your thoughts.
“I know you’re pretending to sleep.”
Reluctantly, you opened one eye, peeking at him.
"Mind if I sit here?"
For a moment, you considered ignoring him, but the look on his face told you he wasn’t going to let it go. You rolled your shoulders, giving up the pretense, and sat up straighter.
“Actually, yes, I do mind.”
He raised an eyebrow but lowered himself onto the seat anyway, clearly unfazed by your objection.
"Reid,” you warned him. “I’m serious.”
"I know you are.” His eyes briefly swept around the cabin as he settled into the seat across from you, placing his satchel bag on his lap. "But every other seat is taken. Unless you want me to stand in the aisle for the next few hours?"
You rolled your eyes, letting out a resigned sigh as you crossed your arms. "Fine, but I'm reserving the right to nap, and you're reserving the right to not disturb that nap."
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He leaned forward in his seat. “Do you know that you snore when you sleep?”
You gasped. “I do not!”
“You do. You sound like a little chainsaw.”
You gaped at him. The idea of a rough, grating noise being associated with you was almost laughable, and yet here he was, completely serious. You were unsure whether to be amused or offended.
“A chainsaw? That’s what you’re going with?”
“Well, considering the average chainsaw operates at around 90 decibels, I'd say it's an appropriate comparison."
“Don’t make me throw you off the plane.”
He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Just so you know, certain sleep positions can actually help reduce snoring. Maybe you should try—ouch!”
You nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make your point clear. He rubbed his leg and glanced up at you with a wry expression.
“Consider that your first and only warning,” you stated firmly before closing your eyes, signaling the end of the conversation.
“See, your position is all wrong, if you slightly elevate your—”
“Good night, Reid.”
There was suddenly a moment of silence, the kind that feels almost tangible, stretching out in the small space between you. Then, you heard it—a slight, barely audible chuckle.
You wondered if your mind was playing tricks on you, the sound so faint that it seemed it could easily be a figment of your imagination. But no, there it was again, a soft, amused sound that had you frowning even with your eyes closed.
“Good night, Y/N.”
Maybe you were already dreaming.
III. The Lock-in Incident
“Y/N,” JJ’s voice chimed from behind you while you were gathering a stack of folders on your desk. “Can you take these down to the filing room? Spencer’s already down there reorganizing some of the older case files.”
You eyed the thick folder in JJ’s hands. When there wasn’t an active case, the team often spent time organizing and maintaining the archives. As tedious as it was, it was a necessary task, and normally, you wouldn’t mind lending a hand.
But the sound of his name made you pause because working with him in a confined space seemed very much unappealing.
“Why are you asking me?”
“Aren’t you going there?” She asked, her gaze shifting to the folders in your hands.
Internally, you groaned. Yes, you were headed there, that had been the plan. But now that you knew Spencer was there, every step towards that cramped, paper-stuffed room felt like walking into a minefield.
“Maybe you should go down there instead.”
“I can’t,” she responded, already adding her folders to your pile. “I’ve got to finish my other reports before the end of the day.”
Your eyes glanced over to Derek’s desk across from you. “Morgan?”
He turned over a page in the file he was reading, not even looking up. “Sorry, Pretty Girl, I got my hands full with this case report.”
“Oh, come on.” You stormed over to him, desperation edging into your voice. “I’ll do you a favor—anything you want.”
Derek glanced up, finally giving you his attention, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Anything I want?”
“Within reason.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, but I really can’t. This report’s due in an hour.”
Frustrated, you glanced over towards Emily’s desk, hoping for a backup, but groaned when you saw it was empty.
You finally sighed, feeling the weight of your options—or lack thereof—settle on your shoulders. You gathered the heavy folders in your arms, the paper edges digging slightly into your skin. It was just a few hours, you reasoned; you could manage Spencer. He could be insufferable, but you had your own ways of being equally annoying.
With a deep breath, you headed toward the filing room, mentally preparing yourself. He was already busy sorting through a pile of disorganized paperwork when you got there, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“I have more work for you,” you announced in a sing-song voice.
Spencer looked up, his eyes scanning the sight of the hefty folders in your arms. “Nope. They’re yours, not mine.”
You paused, leaning on the table filled with sorted files. “Are you sure you want me to do this by myself? Because, you know, I might just rearrange what you’ve already organized here. It would be a shame if all your hard work got… scrambled.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he quickly warned. “Hand them over. I’ll do it myself.”
You moved closer and placed the folders next to his neatly arranged stacks, deliberately nudging them just enough to seem accidental.
“Really?” he said, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he carefully realigned the folders you had nudged. “You know, we could actually get this done much faster if you’re not acting like a child.”
“Oh, please. Like you’re the mature one.”
“At least I’m trying to get the job done, not make it harder.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so uptight about every little detail, it wouldn’t be so hard,” you shot back, grabbing another stack of files to sort.
“I’m not uptight. I’m precise. There’s a difference.”
“Sure there is.”
Spencer opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get the words out, the sudden sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the cramped room. Both of you turned around simultaneously.
“Did that just…?” He began, stepping towards the door and trying the handle. It didn’t budge. He jiggled it again, more forcefully this time. “Great, it’s locked.”
“What?” You walked over, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “Who the hell locked it?”
“I don’t think anyone did. These old doors… they stick. It’s probably just jammed,” Spencer explained, though his voice carried a hint of doubt.
Yeah, right, you thought, your skepticism growing. Despite his logical explanation, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a coincidence. The timing was just too perfect, and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone might have been behind this.
But then the reality of the situation sank in. Your immediate concern shifted to the fact that you were trapped here, with him, until someone realized you were missing. The prospect was both frustrating and daunting.
“Look, let’s just keep working,” he suggested. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can figure out how to get out of here.”
You nodded, though a part of you wanted to argue. “Fine. But if we’re still stuck here by the time we’re done, you’re explaining this to Hotch.”
“We’ll get out, don’t worry.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” You picked up a folder from the pile, flipping it open to look over its contents. “How do I do this?”
“Sort them by case type first, then by date within each type.”
“So, this one would go under…?”
“Unsolved homicides,” Spencer replied, taking a quick peek at the document you held open. “And make sure it’s in chronological order with the others.”
You moved to the designated shelf, sliding the folder into its appropriate spot before returning to grab another. “Wait,” you opened the file, your eyes scanning the page. “I think this was my first case.”
You read through the document and nodded.
“Yes, look, it’s the one where the Unsub was targeting families with children,” you reminisced, your mind going back to the time when you were still new to the job. “That was such a hard case. Remember how I couldn’t stop crying? And how Hotch had to debrief me because I was still shaking even after we made the arrest?”
When you were met with silence, you looked up to see his back facing you, seeming too busy as he organized his files. You closed the document in your hands and walked back toward the shelf.
“Of course, you don’t remember,” you muttered under your breath. “Why would you even remember?”
A twinge of disappointment settled in your chest, even though you hated to admit it. It was stupid, really, to expect him to recall every little detail from the past, especially when it had to do with you. But just as you turned to grab another file, Spencer’s voice stopped you.
“October 19, 2011.”
You paused, turning slowly to face him, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”
“The date you started working here,” Spencer said, still focused on his task. “You wore a black blouse and the brightest shade of red on your lips.”
You blinked, trying to understand what he was getting at.
“The case was in St. Louis,” Spencer continued, now looking up to meet your gaze directly. “Your first field assignment. You told Hotch you were ready, but the case really got to your head.”
You found yourself at a loss for words, realizing what he was trying to do.
“You cried when you came back from talking with the victim’s family. You cried when the second victim was found. You cried when we finally caught the Unsub.”
You continued to stare at him, not knowing how to process his words.
“You also cried when I sat beside you on the plane.”
He remembered.
The realization struck you hard, almost like a physical blow. A part of you had convinced yourself that he barely noticed you, that any memory involving you was erased from his mind. But here he was, recalling not just any memory, but your first week when you joined the team, right down to the color of your lips.
“You…” The frown on your face deepened. “You remembered.”
There was a pause as he looked at you, his eyes carefully assessing your reaction. “It’s hard not to."
You held his gaze. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you were still on good terms. Would you smile at him now? Would you tell him that, yes, you also remembered how he allowed you to lean on his shoulder during that flight back home, despite the awkwardness of your first meeting when it seemed he’d rather keep his distance?
You shook your head, looking away from him. It was wishful thinking. Letting yourself dwell on what could have been would only lead to another heartbreak. You had learned to protect yourself, to keep your distance, because hoping for a return to those days would only make the present hurt more.
“Right,” you said, trying to keep your composure as you gripped the folder in your hand. “I forgot you have an eidetic memory.”
Spencer didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you, a quiet, lingering gaze that you felt more than saw. The room suddenly felt incredibly small, the walls seeming to close in around you as your fingers fumbled slightly with the papers, grabbing another file.
You needed to get out of here. You needed to regain control. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you can escape him.
IV. The Table For Two
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” You pressed, arms linked with JJ as you both walked down the sidewalk, your stride matching the quick tempo of your rising irritation. The accusation in your voice was clear, but JJ just offered a casual shrug, avoiding direct eye contact.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You expect me to believe it was an accident?” Your skepticism was palpable, and you watched as a small smirk played at the corner of her lips. “That the door coincidentally locked itself when we were both inside?”
“The doors are old,” she said, keeping her gaze forward, her steps even and unhurried. “You know how it is, sometimes if you even just shut them too hard, they jam. Could happen to anyone.”
Her tone was too nonchalant, too practiced, and you tugged on her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Right, and I suppose it was also just chance that the door closed by itself?”
JJ paused, finally facing you with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t do it.”
“Then somebody did.”
“Y/N,” she replied, her smile broadening in a way that only heightened your irritation. “Nobody did.”
You groaned, resuming your walk as you pulled her along. “You guys are so annoying.”
JJ laughed. “How did you get out of there anyway?”
You sighed, the memory of the escape bringing a frown to your face. The entire time you were locked in that room, you had done everything possible to avoid talking to him, focusing on shuffling through files and pretending to be absorbed in the work.
After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence and strained small talk, you both gave up trying to ignore the situation and started moving around the cramped space, phones held high, desperately trying to find a signal. When you finally managed to get a single bar, you quickly dialed Penelope, who answered with her usual upbeat tone, clearly amused by your predicament.
"We had to call Garcia to let us out,” you said, your tone dry. “She found the whole thing hilarious."
JJ's laughter grew as she imagined the scene. "She would have loved that. Probably made her day to rescue the two of you."
“She’s already teasing us about it.”
Her laughter slowly died down as she gave your arm a light tug. “Did anything happen while you two were in there?”
You hesitated, recalling the awkward silence, the shuffling of papers, and that brief, tensed exchange. “Not really,” you admitted. “We just tried to organize the files without screaming at each other.”
“But did you talk at all? I mean, really talk?”
“Jennifer,” you warned, the tone of your voice hinting that she was treading on uncomfortable territory. The thought of delving deeper into what had—or hadn’t—happened in that room was not something you were eager to talk about.
“I know, I know, it’s complicated,” she conceded. “Just thought it seemed like a good opportunity to maybe clear the air between you two.”
“Well, you thought wrong. There’s nothing to talk about.”
JJ looked at you skeptically, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see right through your defenses. She seemed on the verge of pushing further, but then her phone rang, interrupting the moment. She glanced at the screen and sighed, giving you an apologetic look. "Hold on, I need to take this. It's Will."
You nodded and watched as she stepped a few feet away to answer the call. You waited and tried to give her privacy, but it was hard when her words were clear as you listened to her talk, and the more she spoke, the more you narrowed your eyes at her.
“…right now… sure… no, it’s fine… I can be there in ten… of course, honey...”
You crossed your arms when JJ finally ended the call and turned back towards you.
"I need to head home,” she said, a bit too casually. “Will got called into work unexpectedly.”
Suspicion started to creep in as you processed her words. The timing was impeccable—a little too perfect. You both were supposed to meet up with Penelope and Derek for dinner, and it was almost guaranteed that Spencer would be there too, considering Derek had taken it upon himself to drag him along at any given chance under the pretense that ‘the kid needs to go out more’.
But the thought of JJ bailing on you on such short notice seemed out of pocket, even for her.
"Really, right now?" you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly. She shifted on her feet, her smile a bit forced. “Is everything okay?”
JJ nodded, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something that looked more like amusement than guilt. "Yeah, I just need to get home to the kids. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
The more she spoke, the more your suspicion grew. Her demeanor seemed too casual, almost rehearsed, as if she was trying to assure you while simultaneously eager to leave. It felt like she was in on some inside joke that you weren't aware of.
“Well, if you really have to go…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” JJ flashed a quick, almost relieved smile and gave you a hurried kiss on the cheek. “Have a good time tonight, and fill me in on all the details later.”
“Details? What details?” You called after her but she was already walking away. “JJ! Why do I have to fill you in the details?”
She simply waved a hand without turning back, leaving you standing there with a growing sense of unease. You slowly resumed your walk, taking out your phone to call Penelope but stopped in your tracks when you saw a message from her, sent five minutes ago.
Hey, Sweetie, so sorry I can’t make it to dinner tonight! Something urgent came up. Have fun without me :)
Your stomach dropped as you read the message. First JJ, and now Garcia? It was starting to feel like you were being abandoned, or worse, you were being set up. You glanced around, half expecting to see Derek lurking in the shadows with a mischievous grin, orchestrating this whole fiasco.
It wasn’t until you arrived at the restaurant and spotted Spencer alone at the entrance, trying to avoid any immediate contact with the other patrons, that you realized your suspicion was confirmed. The pieces clicked together almost too neatly, and the man seemed as surprised to see you as you were to see him.
His discomfort was evident as he adjusted his stance, gripping the strap of his bag, eyes darting to you as you approached him.
“Morgan’s late,” he announced as a greeting.
“He’s not coming,” you said, unable to keep the annoyance from creeping into your voice. “And neither is JJ or Penny.”
“He told you that?”
“No,” you replied with a sigh. “But it’s pretty obvious now, isn’t it?”
"What is?"
“That we’ve been set up,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “They’re not coming, and I’m willing to bet they never planned to.”
He frowned, his brows knitting together. “You think they did this on purpose? Why would they—”
“Come on, Reid,” you interrupted. “They’ve been nudging us to talk for weeks. What better way than to leave us no choice?”
Spencer’s gaze hardened slightly. “I don’t need to be manipulated into having a conversation,” he said sharply.
“And you think I do?” You retorted. “I’m not exactly thrilled about being tricked into a dinner date either, if that’s what this is supposed to be.”
“It’s not a date,” Spencer replied quickly, almost defensively.
“Well, that’s one thing we agree on,” you snapped, then sighed, trying to rein in your temper. “Look, I don’t want to argue. Let’s just forget this ever happened and go home.”
There was a pause as Spencer looked around, his eyes settling back on you. “You want to go home?”
“You don’t?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean, we’re already here. Might as well stay and eat. It’s not like I have any better plans.”
You blinked, taken aback by his response. A part of you had expected him to jump at the chance to escape, but here he was, suggesting you to stay.
It seemed like a bad idea. The tension, the potential for awkward silences, the possibility of yet another argument—it all pointed to leaving being the better option. But against our better judgment, you found yourself considering his suggestion more than you wanted to admit.
Maybe it was the hunger gnawing at your stomach, or perhaps it was the realization that leaving now would only make things more awkward the next time you saw each other. Dinner with Spencer was the last option you’d choose, but it was better than coming home to an empty fridge.
“Fine,” you finally said, brushing past him. “But you’re paying.”
Spencer looked momentarily surprised but then nodded. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
You rolled your eyes as you walked into the restaurant, but immediately stopped in your tracks when you took in the setting. This wasn’t just a restaurant, it was a place designed for dates. The realization made you pause as you looked around the room in horror.
The dim lighting cast a soft glow on polished wood and fine china, while a gentle melody played subtly in the background, setting an unmistakable romantic mood. Just as you were taking in the scene, a hostess approached with a warm, inviting smile. 
"A table for two?" 
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you realized how the evening was poised to look. Turning slightly to gauge Spencer's reaction, you found him even more flustered, his face turning a shade redder as he stammered a response. "Uh, yes, that's—um, that will be fine."
The hostess nodded and led you to a small, intimate table near the window. Spencer fidgeted with the strap of his bag as you both sat down, his eyes darting around the room before finally settling on you. "This is... not exactly what I expected.”
You took the menu from the hostess before she left you both alone. “I’m going to kill them,” you muttered, shaking your head.
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit extreme.”
You sighed, flipping through the menu without really seeing it. “They’re always meddling. They don’t know when to stop. I'm also convinced that being locked earlier was also part of their plan. And this—this is just so...” 
“Annoying?” He offered.
“Infuriating,” you emphasized, throwing your hands up. “It’s infuriating. And embarrassing. And—”
“And yet, here we are,” he cut in, feeling the same way. Spencer paused for a moment, then leaned in slightly, sending you a pointed look. “You know, maybe we should just give them what they want.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s a fact that humans are generally satisfied when they get what they want. And since what our friends want is for the two of us to get along, maybe we should just... pretend that we do.”
“Reid,” you pressed, mirroring his posture as you leaned forward. “They don’t want us to just get along. Look around us. They want us to really get along.” 
Spencer paused, considering your words, his gaze lingering on the candlelit table and the other couples around, deep in conversation. He seemed to realize the full extent of the setup, the romantic undertone that wasn't simply incidental but intentional.
“You’re right,” he finally responded, leaning back in his seat. “Forget what I said. It was stupid.”
You studied him as he opened the menu, the candlelight casting a soft glow on his face. He was right. Not only was it stupid, it was crazy. Pretending to be civil with him was one thing, pretending that you shared some kind of unspoken, lingering feelings was another thing. The mere thought of it made your heart race, but you couldn’t tell if it was from anxiety or nervousness.
You quickly shook your head. It was ridiculous. How could you even begin to pretend to have feelings for someone with whom you shared such a complicated past? How could you act like there was something more between you when the reality was so different?
The whole idea was far-fetched, almost laughable. You couldn’t imagine yourself romantically involved with him, even if it was just for pretend.
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risestarkiss · 11 months ago
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Being Purple ○ Part Two
Rise Ramblings #315
Previous | Being Purple ○ Part One This post is a continuation, so I recommend reading Part One before reading this Part Two. ••••
We’ve talked about what Donatello was and his role in the family.
But, we never examined why. Why is Donnie so gung ho on physically providing for his family?
Well, to understand why he feels that way, we need to go back to the beginning. After Splinter and the turtles were mutated, Yoshi was obviously unable to access any of the funds or resources he held as Lou Jitsu due to, you know, him now being a giant rat. He had to start life a new from the bottom of society.
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We don’t know what happened during their time on the streets, but we can make some inferences as to what happened next. Splinter eventually moved the boys down into the sewers and was able find a comfortable space for himself and his little family.
Here is where I’m going to try my best to piece together the order of events regarding Donatello’s earliest contributions. I’ll be using two episodes: the season one finale, “End Game,” and the Nick web exclusive mini-episode, “Turtle Tots.”
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In Turtle Tots, the family has gathered in Splinter’s room. We can also see the den through Splinter’s doorway. This home is, indeed, the home that we are familiar with in the show. Thus, we now know that at this age the boys were already living in the sewers. We also know that the den has already been outfitted with a tv, electricity, and probably some kind of cable hookup.
Is it possible that Splints did this electrical work all on his own? “End Game” gives us a clue that can lead us to an answer.
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Here he is, the boy of the hour. In this picture, given the perspective, young Donnie is much shorter than Splinter. Their heights here are actually comparable to their height difference in the “Turtle Tots” clip. Therefore, I believe it’s fair to conclude that Donatello is about the same height in both instances, and likewise, relatively the same age.  
Given that new piece of information, now we can speculate further.
When you look at the room that crying Dondon is in, he’s surrounded by wires, batteries, boxes, and what appears to be little bits of tech that he was working on, hence the booboo. There’s a small rotary plane of some sort, a tiny workbench, and other bits and pieces. So, we can deduce that Donnie is familiar with electrical work and is building things for himself, even at this young age.
Donatello is already cooking.
With that evidence, I believe it’s reasonable to surmise that Donatello had a hand in hooking the den up with a refurbished TV and in wiring the house with electricity, which is such a big job for such a little guy.  
If it had stopped there, I wouldn’t bring it up, but as we can plainly see…
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It never stopped. His labors are endless. Everything from the turtles’ transportation, their living space, and their comforts at home was created, built, enhanced, and refurbished by Donatello. Consequently, he internalized the idea that his usefulness equated to the safety and security of his family. And that’s just how he lived his life.
He doesn’t know any different, and I’m sure at this point he wouldn’t want any different. This is his role. This is his place. Besides, his beneficence makes his brothers happy, and his father happy, and by extension it makes him happy.
Hence, his “gift giving” love language.
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If Donnie is happy, then where’s the problem?
I’m sorry, but external validation as a primary source of happiness, or even worse, as a source of self-esteem, is dangerous…
But I digress…
From the outside looking in, it’s easy to assume that his genius is best utilized as a tool for the team’s benefit. But as a child, the weight of ensuring their entire family’s physical infrastructure is a large burden to bear…and it is almost the exact definition of Instrumental Parentification.
Parentification is a process in which a role reversal occurs where the child or adolescent is obligated to act as a parent would to their siblings or to their actual parent. Instrumental Parentification involves a child assuming the responsibilities of maintaining a household through physical means. In this case, Donatello literally maintains the household.
I’ve said all of that to say this.
Donatello has been subjected to Instrumental Parentification for almost his entire life. He doesn’t know life without providing for his family, but he’s happiest when his family is comfortable and safe.
So when we ask, why does Donatello make these sacrifices for his family, the answer is obvious. Love. And that answer reigns true in the past, present, and future…
Anyways, Donatello is such a complex and intriguing character, I could go on about him forever. But I think this as good a place as any to put a pin in my deep dive on this fiery little grape, because our next dive’s focus is on the true pinnacle of the Hamato clan…
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○○○○
Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One
Next | Orange, Baby!
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
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imaginidol · 1 year ago
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Mingi: Dance Practice
!!mentions of nsfw!! 18 + !! do NOT interact if you’re not comfortable with smut!! okiee here is another naughty atiny request I’ve got for mingi!! this one may be a bit longer than the previous ones but if you stick with it I hope it’ll be worth it ?? 😭 (pls send feedback LMAO) if you’re interested I have a hongjoong ver. smut jongho ver. smut and a san ver. smut, wooyoung ver. smut and a yunho ver. smut ;)
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You walked into the dance studio where you and the usual team of ATEEZ backup dancers practiced. Everyone was scattered around the room, stretching and warming their muscles before the rehearsal ensued.
Mingi walked in, wearing a gray hoodie and black sweatpants with large over-ear headphones hanging around his neck.
“Good evening,” he calls out to the room, and a crowd of voices sing a polite chorus of good-evening-Mingi’s in return.
His eyes quickly search the room through the wall mirror until they finally locate you.
A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips at the sight of you. Part of ATEEZ’s current title track called for a very sexy 10-second choreography portion in which each member had a backup dancer partnered to them. You just happened to be picked for Mingi, and you were by all means grateful for the opportunity.
“Okay,” Hongjoong clapped his hands and called for first position.
The practice went fairly smoothly for the first two rounds. Hongjoong called a five-minute break before moving onto the third practice round, and Mingi decided to use this opportunity to talk to you.
“How you feeling?” Mingi grabs your hand and spins you in a circle, watching you twirl in content.
“It’s hard, and it’s definitely interesting, but I think it’s fun,” you pant. “What about you?”
Mingi smiles, taking a sip of his water. “I think it’s fun, too. I think we’re the best duo out of all the members,” he teases.
“There’s no way,” you smirk, nodding your head towards Jongho and his dancer, “those guys easily eat it up every time.”
“Oh, yeah?” he turns, seeing as Jongho placed his hands around his dancer’s waist, practicing the move again even during their break. “We could definitely beat those guys. We should practice more, one-on-one.”
You smirk, nodding in agreement. “That’d be fun, wouldn’t it?”
“Hmm, we could find out,” he says, crossing his arms. “You free to practice tonight?”
“Hmm,” you think, contemplating your transportation assortment to return home afterwards, “could you give me a ride home if I did?”
The boy nods, settling his eyes steadily on you now.
“I could do that for you, definitely.”
A few hours after everyone has left for the evening, you and Mingi stay back rehearsing your part a couple times alone.
“Fuck, that could get fun any day,” Mingi pants after the third practice round. He proceeds to pull his hoodie over his head to take it off, revealing a hot peek at his abs as his undershirt went up.
You tried not to stare, but he caught you looking through the mirror before you could turn away.
He scoffed as your cheeks turned a soft shade of red, and proceeded to walk over and plop himself on the floor next to you.
“Wanna take a break?” he asks, nudging your elbow as he lay on his back against the floor.
“We could take a break,” you mutter, deciding to also lie on your back for a moment.
He takes notice, and extends his arm in your direction, offering it as a pillow for your head.
You smile, scooting closer to the boy and resting your head against his shoulder.
Your mind wandered for a moment as you came to the sudden realization that you were practically hugging Mingi… on the floor… alone… during after-hours.
Before you could hobble away to avoid any misunderstanding, his voice softly interrupts the silence.
“Can I tell you something?”
You turn to face the boy, meeting his eyes.
“I like the way you dance.”
Your face felt hot as a reddening wave of butterflies erupted from your stomach up to your cheeks. His eyes grew slightly more hooded as he fixated them on you, a sly smirk crossing his face. The boy winked, and you felt your heart skip several heavy beats trying to read Mingi’s micro expressions.
“I like the way you dance, too,” is all you can foolishly reply, failing to think of any other viable response to the way he was looking at you.
He reaches a finger towards your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. He nodded his head, testing to see if you’d pick up his subtle gestures, and you most definitely had.
You close your eyes as you feel yourself leaning closer to Mingi, bringing a hand up to his jaw as you felt his lips slowly enclose around yours.
You slowly begin to make out with him, feeling your kisses grow messier as each became more and more intimate than the last. He was the first to bring his tongue into it, slowly lifting his body in the process until you were practically underneath him.
He only pulled away for a moment to search your face for any signs of discomfort, but was only greeted by your gentle smile as you reached to wrap an arm around his neck.
“Hey,” he grins. His silver snake chain had found its way out from under his tight shirt and was now flimsily hanging above you.
“Hey,” you giggle back.
“You’re a good kisser,” he whispers.
You smile cheekily at the sight of Mingi hovering over you, one of his arms still cradling your head from the hard floor and the other resting around your waist.
A sudden deep and private desperation for Mingi overwhelms your body, and you can’t help but want to indulge yourself lips-first into the beautiful boy in front of you.
“I can do more than just kissing,” you hear yourself whisper out loud.
Did I really just say that!?
Mingi’s eyes widen at the sudden and unexpected response, a slow smirk forming at the ends of his mouth as he mentally interpreted your words and request.
“Come to my dressing room,” he whispers, tilting his head subtly towards the door.
Mingi is the first to take his shirt off as he hovers over you against a soft sectional couch. You sit quietly as you watch the boy’s shirt slide off his arms to reveal a firmly toned torso adorned with his silver snake chain that sparkled under the dim light of a table lamp.
The sight of Mingi’s naked torso is enough to begin stirring heat inside of you, and you feel yourself becoming wet with each touch of his hands against your body.
You outstretch your arms and wrap them around his neck, pulling him into the wide wing of the sectional couch with you. Your lips greet each other warmly, firm kisses bringing your bodies closer together.
“Hey,” he mumbles into your lips. His arms reach towards your hips as he swings your legs around his waist. “You sure you wanna do this?”
You smile warmly at the boy in front of you, planting soft kisses against his jaw as you began removing your top and bra while he helped you slide out of your leggings with ease.
Mingi places his hands between your thighs and slowly spreads your legs as far as you’d go, taking pleasure at the sight of your gracious body in all its glory.
“Fuck,” he mutters, “you’re so beautiful.”
He dives between your legs, his warm tongue caressing the tip of your clit as he blazingly set off every electric nerve of your body.
A soft moan escapes your mouth as the boy traces the curves of your flower’s lips before diving deeper beneath them. You felt yourself getting wetter at the feel of his tongue inside of you, a soft and delicate pleasurable joy overwhelming your insides and lower abdomen altogether.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimper, secretly hoping he’d eat you out for a good minute.
Several soft moans later, you pull his head up from underneath you and gently wipe his bottom lip clean with your thumb.
“My turn,” you smirk, offering him your position on the couch.
You begin trailing a line of soft kisses from his jawline all the way to his bellybutton, fixating your eyes into his as you gently began unzipping and removing his pants and boxers.
You wrap your hands gently around his hardening member, jerking him off slowly and firmly as he leaned his head back against a cushion.
You started deepening each stroke with ease as you picked up the pace, pulling sloppily at his hard cock while enjoying the sight of his scrunching face overjoyed with pleasure.
You’re steadily jacking him off when the first grunts start gradually emerging from somewhere deep within his throat. You smile devilishly as you lean in and wrap your lips around his member, pushing it deep into your throat with every persistent motion.
Your performance really begins to emit as you pick up the pace, sucking and slobbering all over his dick as far in as you could manage it. Tears began forming at the creases of your eyes with every vertical stroke of your mouth as you tried desperately not to choke on his size.
“Fuck, fuck,” he grunts, arching his lower back as the throbbing sensation of pumping blood began pounding into every vein of his cock.
You pulled your mouth away, leaving a sloppy mess of saliva and cum behind as you proceeded to climb onto his legs, positioning yourself around his cock to ride against him slowly.
Now that fucking did it for Mingi.
You hadn’t gotten more than ten strokes in when the boy clasped his hands around your ass and turned you over, fumbling you on your back as he climbed over your body.
He began thrusting into you, and he was thrusting hard.
With every rough push into your velvety inner walls, you released a lusty moan, each growing slightly louder than the last.
“You’re… so… fucking… good…” he huffed with each deepening stroke, the sweat glands around his body glossing his clear skin under the dim light.
A jet stream of tears now fully sloshed out of your tear ducts, your quiet moans now full screams of Mingi’s name coming in a loud, looped repetition.
Mingi’s full concentration failed to take alert of the gentle knocking against his dressing room door, your loud moans drowning out any potential chances of catching it in time.
Which is why, it takes him by surprise when the door flings open and in walks Wooyoung.
Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he covers his face, shrieking in embarrassment and fumbling to locate his car keys somewhere on the vanity mirror.
“Close… the fucking… DOOR!” Mingi yells out angrily as he continues to shamelessly fuck himself into you.
“I’m so— I’m so fucking sorry—” is all Wooyoung yells as he retrieves his car keys and fumbles towards the door knob.
“Get the fuck OUT!”
Wooyoung makes a dash towards the door, slamming it behind him as he ran out, not stopping until he eventually got to his car.
Now Mingi was angry.
His whole vibe was thrown off, and he really needed to release.
He pulled your legs from the sides of his waist and wrapped them over his shoulders, now fucking into you at full throttle.
If it wasn’t possible for Mingi to thrust this fucking deep inside of you before, it most definitely was happening now.
You let out desperate screams as Mingi manages to successfully and repeatedly hit your G-spot. Your body tightens, your sweat glands release, and your lower spine arches so far back when you feel the sudden burst of immense bodily rapture as an orgasm ensues, leaving you in a heated, electric trance as your insides release and relax around Mingi’s thrusting member.
Mingi lets out a loud groan as his final ejaculation of hot cum seeps all over your lower abdomen, streams of the warm liquid discharging in large amounts inside and all over your thighs.
“FUCK,” Mingi moans, fighting any more dominant urges over you and instead collapses on the couch next to you.
You both take a minute to ease your breathing, closing your eyes as you reminisced the last half-hour of intimate excitement.
“Princess,” Mingi pants, turning his head towards you, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you offer your best smile, though you could feel already that you wouldn’t be coming into the studio for a few days. Your legs would surely give out by the morning, and you’d be lucky if you could manage to walk anywhere tonight without hobbling around too awkwardly.
“Hey,” Mingi turns, cupping a hand around your jaw.
“Hey,” you smile back.
“Can I tell you something?”
You giggle softly, endearingly looking into the gentle eyes of the boy lying next to you.
“I like you,” he whispers, “I really, really like you.”
You lift your hand towards your jaw where he’s cupped his palm around you, pulling off his fingers and instead intertwining them around yours.
“I like you, too,” you say.
“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he mumbles, “I really want you to be mine.”
You nod gently, closing your eyes for a second to think about your response.
You open your eyes and see that he’s already lovingly staring back at you.
“I could be yours,” you whisper, “I’d be good at that, too.”
maybe a small sfw pt.2 in the future? :)
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lemonlover1110 · 1 year ago
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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝
Toji Fushiguro
[Chapter 8] Megumi's Baseball Game
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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You’re more tired than you’d like to be. A week passes and Megumi’s baseball games approaches, and you’re thinking of skipping out on it. It’s not like he’ll miss you a lot. Staying home sounds tempting, but then you think about how going to his game gives you an excuse to go out to eat. And even if he won’t miss you, he’ll appreciate having you there. 
After much pondering, you decide to call Toji. You’ll be going to the same place after all, you don’t want to take public transportation nor do you want to spend extra money on a taxi. The phone doesn’t ring twice before he picks up.
“Hello?” He answers, and regret begins to consume you as you hear his voice. Do you really want to see Toji? Sit in the car with him for that long? You stay silent for a moment, and Toji repeats himself.
“Hi, Toji.” You respond, and you debate on hanging up right away. A butt dial? Would he buy that?
“Hi, baby. Is everything okay? Is there something wrong?” He asks, doubting that you’d willingly call him. Every second passes slowly as he waits for your answer.
“I’m going to Megumi’s game… Can you pick me up?” You ask, and Toji doesn’t waste a moment to answer.
“Yes. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Which takes you by surprise since you thought the game was a bit later. You hang up and go to your room to change into something that’s not your pajamas– But something comfortable nonetheless. 
You won’t put effort into your look, you shouldn’t. You’re just going to watch Megumi play a baseball game, and you’ll be with your ex-husband. You shouldn’t put any effort into your look, but you do. You wear just a tad bit of makeup and put on a cute outfit. You definitely put in a bit of effort even if you didn’t consciously intend to.
Toji knocks on your door earlier than the time he had given you, and luckily you finish getting ready right at that moment. You open the door for him, and he looks more relaxed than usual, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a long sleeve black compression shirt. It’s much different than his usual business wear.
“Are you ready to go?” Toji asks, and you nod your head in response. You know he won’t comment on how pretty you look, on how the shade of pink really goes well with your skin tone, on how you’re literally glowing– Toji has never been the type to really praise your looks.
You walk to his car and get in, where a silent car ride begins. You think about speaking first, but you bite your tongue. You’ll feel like when you were married, constantly trying to start a one-sided conversation that’ll lead nowhere. If he wants to talk, he needs to start the conversation himself.
“So um… Is your morning sickness getting better?” Toji clears his throat, deciding to use his voice. There’s no point for all the silence, it eats him alive, yet, he doesn’t want to put on any music. He wants to hear your voice because he rarely hears it anymore. He wishes he had videos of you talking so he could hear your voice when he feels like it’s faded in his short memory.
“Not really.” You answer. Of all topics that he could bring up, that’s certainly the last one that you want to talk about. Instead of leaving him with the dry response, you change the topic to something else in your pregnancy that’s been bugging you. “I’ve been having some really weird cravings lately.”
“Like what?” He asks.
“Last night I wanted bacon drizzled in caramel… And it still sounds so good right now.” You share, and he scrunches his nose up, slightly disgusted. That doesn’t sound too appetizing. Yet he still says,
“Whenever you want something, call me and I’ll try to see what I can do.” Which surprises you. You weren’t expecting him to say that, and it brings a small smile to your lips. You know why he says it, why he’s suddenly part of a man that you wish you would’ve had as your husband. But you still smile, feeling a flake of happiness in you.
“The laundry detergent was also smelling so good–” You begin, but he cuts you off.
“If you want to drink laundry detergent, do it after you have the baby.” He says, which makes you chuckle. You feel as he slowly grows accustomed to the idea of your pregnancy, how he slowly grows excited at the thought of becoming a father again. It makes you happier than you’d like. You were set on having your baby on your own, raising them alone, yet you feel happy when Toji becomes happy about his baby. 
You get to the parking lot of the baseball field, and you find that the game has already started. You follow Toji to take a seat, and you sit quietly amongst a group of rowdy parents and teenagers– It’s a high school baseball game (not even varsity at that), it can’t be that serious. But you do feel the excitement when Megumi goes up to pitch, and you’re smiling ear to ear as you watch him. You do cheer him on, but you aren’t as loud as the rest. It encourages Toji to do the same, but he doesn’t do much, he just whistles.
“I hope I’m not too late.” You’re startled by Toji’s friend, Shiu, as he approaches where you sit. He takes a seat behind you, and just by catching a glimpse of his face, you’re pissed off. Sure, Shiu was very helpful when he helped you move, but you’re still pissed that he left you with Toji of all people. 
Toji greets his buddy while you ignore him. You don’t want to talk to Shiu, and you don’t have to either. No one will force you to talk to Shiu.
“I don’t think Megumi noticed you were missing.” Toji comments, turning his attention back to the game. Shiu smacks the back of Toji’s head, and Toji rolls his eyes. It’s their usual banter, of course you won’t pay much attention to them. Toji throws his arm over your shoulder, and brings you into his embrace, which you don’t fight. 
“It’s weird to find you here.” Shiu speaks up. You’re not together anymore… He understands why you’re here, you have your own bond with Megumi that’s separate from your relationship with Toji, but why is he throwing his arm over you and why aren’t you pushing him away? You don’t answer though, you clearly don’t want to talk to him.
“I forgot to tell you, Shiu. We’re having a baby.” Toji announces, and Shiu’s eyes go wide. He wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting a lot of stuff but certainly not that. Many questions come into his head, but it’s best for him to stay quiet. But he has to ask one question that’ll eat him up alive if he doesn’t–
“Are you two back together?” He asks, and you get Toji’s arm off your shoulder.
“No. We’re not back together.” You answer, and Toji glares at Shiu. Shiu bites his tongue, knowing that this isn’t the time or place to ask all the questions that flood his mind. What the hell are you going to do?
You watch the rest of the game in silence. When it’s done, you and Toji approach Megumi. He’s with his friends so it’s awkward. When he finally turns his attention to you, he leans in for a hug which you’re reluctant to return since he’s all sweaty. But you still hug him. 
“You had a great game, Megumi. You did such a great job.” You praise him, and he smiles at you.
“How are you doing? I haven’t heard from you much, just what dad has to say… But I don’t trust him all that much.” He says, a chuckle leaving your lips at his comment.
“I’ve been doing good, Megumi. But I want to know how you’re doing? How’s school?” You begin to chat with him, and Toji listens in. He taps his foot on the ground, his patience slowly running out. Sure, it’s nice to see that you two have a bond and whatnot but it’s boring for him to just stand idle.
“How about we go out for food and you two can chat there? Shiu is also waiting for us.” Toji cuts off the conversation, doubting that he can stand still for another minute.
“I actually have plans to go out to eat with my friends.” Megumi says, and Toji frowns as he crosses his arms.
“With whose permission?” Toji responds. You usually don’t get involved when similar issues happen, you did once and Toji reminded you that you weren’t Megumi’s parent. But today is different, mainly because Toji is trying to earn your forgiveness, and you use it to your advantage.
“You can go, Megumi. Have fun.” Your arm intertwines with Toji’s, and you give him doe eyes as you look up at him. “Give him some money, Toji.”
Toji huffs as he reaches for his wallet. He gives Megumi some money, and you say your goodbyes before walking away. You know you shouldn’t have stepped in, but Toji won’t scold you for it, especially when your arms are intertwined. You let go of him after a couple of steps since your work with helping Megumi is done.
Your stomach growls, and it’s loud and clear, making your face grow warm of embarrassment. You still smile and say, “Let’s go out to eat.”
“Is that why you sent Megumi off? So we could eat alone?” Toji asks, and it fuels his ego. You have a smirk on your face when you tell him,
“What about Shiu? Are you just going to leave him all alone?”
“To hell with him.” He scoffs. “He’s a grown man, I didn’t even invite him here. I’m not paying for his food.”
“You can convince him to pay yours. Use the fact that you’re having a baby, guilt trip him.” You give him some useful advice, especially since you don’t want to be all alone with him. You don’t trust yourself a lot, especially not lately. Not because you’ve forgiven him and want to get back with him, but because you’re hormonal and don’t trust your body to not make a sudden move.
“You’re right… Let’s do that.” Toji says, his hand going up in the air and waving at Shiu before he calls out, “Hey, Shiu! Let’s go out to eat!”
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lou-struck · 4 months ago
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The Pickle Theory
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Diavolo x reader
~While on a trip with you in the human world, Diavolo finds himself at the mercy of his worst enemy.
W.C- 2.6k
a/n: This was one of those prompts that I think of in the middle of the night and write it down in the notes app thinking that It would make sense in the morning... But I don't think I did Late Night Liza justice.
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"Thank you for accompanying me on this little trip to the human world Mc, I would never have been able to figure out the intricacies of Human World Public transportation without your expertise." The Prince says warmly, his eyes alight with curiously as he takes in every inch of the sparsely populated city bus the two of you elected to ride.
Sure, there is enough room on this bus for each of you to have your personal space, but the demon is sitting shoulder to shoulder with you in the tiny two-seat row, and you certainly would not have it any other way.
"It was no problem at all," you beam, finding humor in how strange it is to see such a large and gorgeous man trying to politely cram himself into his seat. "I hope that you were able to find something here that you want to incorporate into the devildom. Besides, you know me. I love a reason to get out into the sun with you."
His smile is just as blinding as the sun as he takes in every inch of your elated features, and he lets out a chuckle. "This trip of ours definitely has been useful, but more than that, I am delighted to have had an excuse to whisk you away to the human world without any of our usual distractions."
"It's nice to be able to spend some time alone with you," you say in agreement as the bus comes to a stop. Despite years of etiquette training, you see the pout on his face as he realizes that the errand that brought the two of you together is coming to an end, and the two of you will have to go back to the Devildom so he can get back to fulfilling his royal duties. 
"It seems we have reached the final stop on our route," he murmurs as the remaining passengers trickle out the doors. Through his shades, you can tell the driver is staring you down in the mirror. He clearly wants the two of you to get off his bus, but he's not gonna try and get snarky to someone of Diavolo's size.
Which is more than fair
You stand, and he follows suit, walking off the bus and onto the cobbled streets of an unfamiliar city. Your mind is fixated on what you can do to prolong this errand date. You want to spend more time with him, but as the Prince of the Devildom, his time is priceless. Much to your surprise, your thoughts are interrupted by the ferocious growling of your stomach growls ferociously. Your eyes widen as you look over to Diavolo in embarrassed shock. 
Amazedly, the Prince only tosses his head back in laughter. "What a wonderful idea, Mc. We simply could not return to the Devildom when we are in such a state of hunger. 
"Right. That was my plan," you chuckle, deciding to roll with his easy compliment. The sun is high in the sky, warming every inch of your exposed skin. Closing your eyes, you stop in your tracks to enjoy the sensation. You can feel his golden gaze even before you open your eyes. 
His expression is radiant as he takes in your look of contentment. But there is something else behind it that you can't quite place. 
"Is something wrong?" 
"Nothing at all," he replies, a faint smile on his lips. "I simply wish to see that pleasant look on your face as much as possible."
There is a deep feeling in your gut that there is more he is not saying, but you choose to not push him further. "Aren't you charming? But don't forget that you are the one who makes me smile so much," you say coyly as the two of you resume walking the narrow path, drawing your bodies closer and closer to each other until you are walking side by side. The light accidental brushing of your hands sends flustered shivers up your spine. 
As the butterflies in your stomach threaten to carry you away, you take a peek at Diavolo's face to see if he is anywhere near as flustered as you, but the Prince's face is a mask of nonchalant charm. Looking at him was definitely the wrong thing to do in this situation because he looks even more stunning in the light of the day. Sunlight radiates off his hair, giving it a rich, coppery glow, and his dark skin seems to shine with an otherworldly beauty. 
Men and women alike misstep as they catch a glimpse of his inhuman good looks, but his eyes remain focused on the path ahead. You can't tell if he is oblivious to the way his regal features draw attention or if he is so used to it it doesn't bother him in the slightest.
You become painfully aware of just how clammy your hands have become in this sweltering heat and try to not bump him again. 
Clearly, he isn't trying as hard (at all) as his hand brushes yours once again. Out of the corner of your eye, you just see a flash of a smirk grace his lips. "Perhaps we should hold hands, Mc."
"You wouldn't mind?" you ask, subtly wiping your hand on the fabric of your shorts.
"Certainly, it's only natural for human couples to want to hold hands when they are on a date."
You smile as his logic wins over your insecurities; when he takes your hand, you aren't sure if it's your time in the Devildom rubbing off on you or if it's your inner pettiness, but the dejected looks that appear on strangers' faces when they see that he is taken brings you joy. 
With his hand in your, it's easy to lose track of time. You aren't sure how long you have been walking until he stops abruptly. "Oh my, what is that smell?" 
Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath in. Even with your inferior sense of smell, you are able to pick up the warm, comforting smell of freshly baked bread. "That smells amazing," you say, covering your mouth with your hand to hide how much you're drooling.
"It does smell wonderful; how about we stop here for a quick meal?" He offers you don't have to be a mind reader to know that he would be over the moon if you said yes. 
"I would love to," you smile, walking under the painted archway and into an adorable-looking cafe. Large, thriving potted plants outnumber the number of patrons in this thriving business as you scan the dining area for a place to sit. In the very corner, you see a perfect little booth for the two of you to grab. 
"let's head over to that table real quick; once we're seated, we can order our lunch at the counter and enjoy ourselves." You walk confidently, knowing that Diavolo will follow. 
"Everything here looks wonderful," Diavolo says as he scans the menu, "Do you know what you would like to get?"
You furrow your brow and read it yourself but find yourself unable to narrow your options down. "Not yet, I can't decide." You whine, "COuld you choose for me?"
"Of course I can," he laughs, standing to his feet. "I'll go up to the counter and make it a surprise."
There is a spring in his step as he steps up to the counter. He learned how to order food at restaurants on your last visit, and he is extremely eager to show off what he has learned. When he comes back and slides into the booth, he looks very proud of himself.
"Did you do it?" you ask.
He nods and places a white-numbered flag on the tabletop. "I did; this little date of ours has made me want to host a human world café event at RAD so everyone gets to experience this. "That would be such a great idea," you agree, already wondering what kind of trouble awaits the lot of you when the event goes underway. 
The Prince's excitement is contagious, and the two of you chatter excitedly about the semantics until nature calls for you to go to the restroom. You excuse yourself politely as you try to figure out where in this swanky place the bathroom is.
As Diavolo stares across the booth at your empty seat, all he can think of is how much he cares about you. 
Getting to spend time with you away from everyone else is more valuable than any of the crown jewels in his palace. You are fascinating to him, even more so than the world in which you hail from.
But seeing how comfortable you are out in the sun sends pangs of guilt into his heart. He can't help but feel guilty for pulling you to the Devildom, away from everything, but he knows deep down that neither of you would change it for the world. 
He is so lost in thought he barely notices a shy server sliding two plates of mouth-wateringly delicious-looking sandwiches onto the table before scurrying away from the gorgeous yet intimidating demon.
He eyes his sandwich hungrily. The bread smells even better now that it's fresh and inches away from him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, breathing in the aroma. All of his manners scream at him to wait just a moment longer for you to come back, but he can't help himself. 
He reaches for the first half of the sandwich but stops just shy of the crust when he spots something that makes his blood run cold. 
It's Slimy…
It's Disgusting…
It's the very bane of his existence…
"Pickles," he breathes, staring down at the lumpy green vegetable sitting inconspicuously on the edge of his plate. Now that he has seen it, its slimy, pungent aroma that so many others adore invades his senses. 
He can't look away from it, even as he feels his stomach twist with hausa. It's almost as if he had just eaten one of Solomon's Mystery soups the sorcerer sometimes brings to the castle to share.
What should he do?
Years of etiquette classes have taught him that, as a prince, it is rude to refuse to eat something on his plate. 
Even if he hates it. 
Even if looking at that particular something makes him feel as if his skin is turning green.
He gulps nervously as he is faced with the severity of the predicament he finds himself in. He is representative of the Devildom; it would be rude to show up to the human world and refuse the food that he has been given.
"Wow, it's here already?" your sweet voice pulls the future king of Hell from his brine-filled thoughts. His golden gaze shoots up at you quickly, watching intently as you slide into the red leather booth. You look down at your plate with a smile before glancing up at him. "It's not much, but for some humans, going to the bathroom at a restaurant and coming back to see that their food has been delivered is the closest thing they will ever get to magic."
"What a wonderful outlook," he exclaims. "Human creativity has no bounds. I find the more I learn of them, the more I am inclined to admire them."
"You give us far too much credit," you laugh, but he can tell that your attention has been taken by the beautiful sandwich in front of you. You look up quickly, and he sees the cute way your features twist in embarrassment. "Sorry, I got a little distracted. This sandwich you got for me looks so delicious it would be a shame to not eat it."
"Then please, dig in." he chuckles, gesturing to the plate. But to his surprise, you don't eat yet. Instead, you look at him with wide eyes as if you are waiting for him to eat his own meal.
But he can't…
Not when that thing is on his plate.
"Diavolo, is everything alright?" you ask, surely noticing how tightly he is clenching his fist. 
He feels his cheeks heating up in embarrassment, and he tears his gaze away from the dreaded pickle. "It's nothing."
Suddenly, your body shifts in your seat, and he feels a slight tap on his shin. It take him a moment to realize what exactly just happened. "Mc, did you just…Kick me?"
"I did," you admit bashfully as if you just remembered that you have assaulted the ruler of the Devildom with your Skechers.  "But only because you weren't telling me what's bothering you."
This unfamiliar sensation of being playfully battered fills his only-child heart with warmth, and he bursts out laughing. "you truly are gifted when it comes to getting someone to open up, Mc." he caves and spins his plate towards you so you can see the accursed pickle. 
"oh, your sandwich came with a pickle. I understand now." And just like that, you reach across the table, grab the pickle, and eat it like it was the easiest thing to do in the world.
"what did I do to deserve you? "He asks when you finish disposing of the problem. 
"It's just the pickle theory." You say with a laugh; he feels very confused and looks at you to continue. "Some people say that a relationship is perfect when one person hates pickles and the other loves them. That way, you'll always have someone who will eat your pickles, so you don't have to. It's not just pickles, though; it's olives, onions, and anything else that you can think of. But it's fate that we are here today, and you happen to hate pickles."
Although your explanation is ridiculous, Diavolo lets out an unrefined snort of laughter. Quickly, he covers his mouth with his hand, a practiced gesture he's done frequently under the watchful eye of his trusted Butler. Instead of wanting to scold him, you let out a hearty laugh of your own. The sound is not beautiful in any way, but it makes his heart thump wildly in his chest as he stares at you.
"So this is Fate?"
"I think so," you murmur, looking at him with an expression he cannot quite place.
"What's with that look?" He asks, raising a brow.
" It's nothing; I just like getting to see the side of you. I hope to see it more," you say earnestly.
He reaches across the table to grab your hand, and he stares deeply into your eyes with the look of a man in love as he makes a promise to you. "Whatever world we are in, I will do my absolute best to give you whatever it is you desire, Mc. 
Your eyes are full of tender emotion as he looks at you. "Would you really do anything for me?" you ask in a sweet voice and he finds himself nodding naïvely, he is completely under the spell of your charm. It's almost as if you are the demon who is corrupting the mortal.
But he knows you and rightfully trusts you with all his heart. One of the reasons he finds himself so drawn to you is that you would never in a million years take advantage of his love.
"Even though I just had a pickle, would you kiss me?" you ask, an endearing little smirk on your lips that has the Prince subconsciously leaning over the table towards you.
"If that is what you want, then nothing would deter me from granting such a request." he smiles, capturing your lips with his, not caring about anything other than the taste of you.
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Tagging; @sleepyyshroom, @i-need-to-go-like-mangogo , @starbbyy, @sarah22447, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf ,  @ourfinalisation, @anjodedesgostoeerros, @isaacdaknight @qardasngan
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kurikive · 5 months ago
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MINECRAFT — 10. d-day
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Y/N went out fast the night before. Her reasoning for the whole melatonin thing being her insomnia. She feared if she slept too late she wouldn’t wake up early the next day, but given she borderline overdosed on sleeping gummies, she would have not woken up at all if it weren’t for her friends.
NewJeans’ manager had told her to meet at the PC room at 8 in the morning to discuss some final things and prepare the computers so that they could start the filming at 10.
It was just going to be a casual Minecraft gameplay with the NewJeans girls. They planned to play Build Battle for the first half and Bedwars for the second half. The member with the most wins across both minigames would have to battle a 1v1 in Minecraft Hunger Games with Y/N to win the prize.
Oh, right. The prize. It really wasn’t much more than a box of expensive beef, which surely would trigger the competitive nerve in some of the members. The video was going to be filmed for Y/N's channel, so she wasn’t going to be the one competing for it anyways. And yes, she did buy the meat with her own money, but considering how much she’s getting paid right now and how much she’s going to get paid, it’s really nothing.
7:19. Y/N was already wearing the outfit Hyewon had picked for her, deeply breathing in and out to calm her nerves. Anton and Jiwoo smile as they try to talk her into departing Nervousville and taking the bus to Peaceburg. Also to take the bus to the PC room, because as popular as their friend is, she still uses public transportation. She says it’s better for the environment, and although it is, it still causes her to get recognized from time to time.
“What if I bail?”
“I’ll kill you. No joke. I’m a nepo baby, I can get away with it.” Anton says. Y/N can’t not believe him.
“Okay! Well, see you guys later!”
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It’s been twenty minutes since Y/N arrived at the PC room. They chose one she used to go to a lot throughout middle and high school. It looks a lot bigger without people.
Y/N had brought her three best cameras for this and was currently setting them up. She didn’t really know where the NewJeans members were going to sit, but she was setting them up so that the members’ faces could (hypothetically) all be seen.
She didn’t really know when the girls were going to arrive and it was eating at her brain. Every few minutes a rhythm of snaps was heard from the Y/N, a habit to try and calm her nerves. Every other second she pulled on the side of her black jeans, accidentally pulling at the skin of her thighs below the cloth.
One of the staff took note of these little quirks and patterns. A young woman approached her slowly, but Y/N only took notice of her when she spoke, “You don’t need to be nervous!” A comforting smile tugged at the woman’s lips, “The girls are super nice and they’re very excited to work with you.”
Y/N, stunned at her sudden appearance, only bowed with a nervous giggle. “Thank you…” She said lowly.
“I’m Ha Sooyoung. Stylist.” The woman extends her hand towards the younger, who shyly shakes her hand. “How old are you, by the way?”
“Twenty… I'm.” The unwanted fashion of mixing up her words comes back to haunt Y/N in the most unconventional situations. She just hopes it doesn’t happen in front of the members.
Sooyoung smiles at the speed in which the younger’s face flushes a rose color. “You have a really nice face, you know?” The comment throws Y/N off. Not in a bad way, of course. She’s heard endless compliments about her appearance; she’s very aware she’s good looking. But the remark coming from a professional stylist definitely surprises her a bit.
The woman, noticing Y/N’s expression, is quick to retaliate in case of a misunderstanding, “Not in a weird way, I swear!” The older waves her hands as if trying to shake away the other’s concerns (there weren’t any). “I’m much older than you, please. I meant, like, God…”
Y/N picks up on Sooyoung’s frustration and tries to fix the situation, “No! No, I get it. It’s okay, Sooyoung-ssi.” Sooyoung doesn’t know if she’s laughing at the formality or at her own mistake, but it’s funny regardless.
“I meant,” the woman clears her throat, “You have a face that’s great for modeling. Have you ever tried it?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think brands want a YouTuber as a model.” A sheepish laugh leaves Y/N’s lips at her bad joke. Thankfully Sooyoung laughs with her.
“Hey, well, they might after this! Who knows?” Sooyoung takes something out of her bag while the both share giggles, “If you ever want to try it out, I’m a photographer on the side. Could help you out, y’know?”
Y/N’s eyes widen when Sooyoung hands her a business card, phone and e-mail on the bottom, but instead of her name, ‘YVES’ is written on the top in bold letters.
“That’s my personal phone number. Unnie is just fine, by the way.” Y/N receives another one of the older’s charming smiles with a bow and a “Thank you, unnie!” before Sooyoung pats her shoulder and leaves her side at the sound of her name being called.
“Oh! The girls are gonna be here soon. Get prepared.”
And Y/N’s back to pulling at her jeans.
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masterlist | next
taglist # @yumtooki @saysirhc @modanisgf @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @miinatozakiii @hotluvlet @mym1na @keiji-jin @wintersgff @wonyoungssi @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @shozeu @nwjnsloona @kaypanaq @pandafuriosa60 @linnnsworld @hwabyul4wheesun
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erospandemos · 1 year ago
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Umbrella Thief
Hanni x Reader
Length: 4.2k
With the help of beta-reader @leafostuff
A series of unfortunate events leads you to share the same hotel room as your umbrella thief.
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Why did you even agree to come to the school trip? You asked yourself. How did you get the splendid idea to join this little stupid event? The day had been nothing but rain, delayed transportation, closed museums, tasteless food, and now that it was… You put your hand in your pocket, stuck to your thigh, soaking wet from all the rain, and reached for the phone. Fortunately, it was still working. 12 pm.
The teachers failed to contact the bus and everyone had to walk back to the hotel, which was an hour away from the restaurant, and without an umbrella. Someone stole your umbrella. You left it near your bag as you went to the bathroom and when you came back, poof, it disappeared—just as it started to rain. Everyone was too worried about themselves and going back to the hotel, so you were forgotten and had to walk all the way under the pouring rain.
You sighed, for the nth time, and waited for the teachers to announce the pairings for the hotel rooms. As they started calling for everyone and seeing couple by couple leaving the reception, running in excitement to their little cove, you got impatient. You silently accepted that you’d be the last one. The problem was when they didn’t call you at all.
“Excuse me, Miss Kim. What about my room?” you asked politely.
“Yeah, about that…” she started. She patted her head with an apologetic expression. “Someone made a mistaking while booking the room and you’ll have to share it with someone from the other class that joined us.”
“What do you mean someone made a mistake?”
“We actually were one room short. I just asked for the last room they got left,” the teacher admitted. She took out the card to access your room and gave it to you. “I don’t know who the other person was but, here you go.”
You found your place by looking at the number on the sign beside the stairs. In front of your door was waiting an oddly familiar girl. Her height was average, her hair was black, and decorated her round face with straight bangs. Her clothes were baggy and looked to be trendy, new jeans and a big hoodie, and they were almost completely dry.
After looking at her enough, you realized you actually knew her name. Hanni Pham. She was your crush, what were the chances she’d be here to share the room with you? You couldn’t absolutely give her any hints or make her realize you might’ve liked her.
“Hi, Hanni.”
“Oh, hello, how do you know my name?” she replied with a raised eyebrow. Shoot. Think of an excuse, quick, say something.
“I mean, you must be Hanni, right? My teacher told me I’d be sharing my room with you, did she tell you?”
“Ah, that thing, yes. Well, good to meet you…”
You couldn’t help but nervously glance at her—she was way prettier in person—and your cheeks got warmer, you felt embarrassed since you were dripping water all over the floor and she was in the same room as you. It was the most unluckiest encounter you could have hoped for. Your chances were thrown out the window at this point. The first time you got to have a proper conversation with her was when you looked your worst.
It’s just a night, you repeat in your head. Just a night. Eight hours or something.
She swiped the card and let you both go inside.
Hanni smiled and joked with her vibrant joyful voice, “Damn, did Zeus have a grudge against you? You’re drenched! Here, take this towel,” she said.
“Actually,” you started, recalling everything that happened before, “Can you believe it? Someone actually stole my umbrella!”
Hanni noticed how frustrated you were and answered as sympathetically as she could, “No way! Who would do such a thing? They must be the raincoat industry's secret undercover agent.”
“Oh, definitely!” you laughed. “They probably have a whole stash of stolen umbrellas hidden away somewhere.”
The girl laughed too, interrupted by a soundless hiccup, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, it’s such a shame that people can’t be trusted these days.”
“It’s incredible! I left it beside my bag… I just left for two minutes and… Wait,” you stopped for a moment and looked at the umbrella peaking from her half-opened backpack. Almost ironically, it fell to the floor and you recognize it. There was no doubt. It was yours.
“That looks an awful lot like my umbrella.”
“What do you mean?” she stutters, as her eyes start to flicker. “Yeah, uhm, it’s a coincidence. I mean, who hasn’t had the same umbrella, right?” Hanni raised her shoulders and hands in a innocent shrug but failed to look at you in the eyes.
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Coincidence? So you’re telling me that my umbrella magically walked out of my hands and into yours?”
Finally, she sighed with guilt. “Okay, fine,” she admitted. “You caught me. But in my defense, it was raining, and I was unprepared!”
“Unprepared? So, stealing my umbrella was your brilliant solution?”
“I panicked!” Hanni sheepishly replied. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” She stopped and raised her eyes from the floor to look at you. “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” you said. “Buy me lunch tomorrow and I’ll forgive you.” You pick up the umbrella and take your card out. You put it on the sensor but it wasn’t working. No wonder, it was dripping wet and you couldn’t dry it on your clothes which weren’t any less drenched. Hanni took it from your hands, brushing your fingers for an instant. You held your breath. Why were you getting nervous from her? She was a criminal! 
“Okay, let’s go inside,” Hanni said, forcing a smile. “Wow, it’s quite a nice room. Quite spacious,” she commented when she stepped inside the room. Her eyes were open wide, her mouth slightly open, childishly surprised and excited. 
“Oh, even a king-size bed. I got dips on that,” she said. “Where’s the second one though?” It was then that the realization dawned on you. A boy, a girl, one room, one bed. That’s how you become a father. Wait, no, that’s wrong. Your brain wasn’t working correctly, not at all. 
“I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry.”
“Huh? What are you talking about? You can’t sleep on the ground,” Hanni gave you a weird look. “It’s been raining all day, there isn’t even a mattress… you would catch a cold.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.”
“This is not happening,” she said. “You are already drenched because of me… you’ll definitely die if you sleep on the floor.” You were already taking the blankets out of the closet and making a little makeshift bed in the corner in the room when Hanni stopped you and forcefully pulled them out of your hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” the girl jeered. “I’m not that much of a monster to let you sleep on the ground, you idiot.”
“You’re a girl, Hanni. I’m a boy.”
“It’s okay, we can talk to the teachers tomorrow and ask to get another room or a second bed. It’s just one night. I wonder where you are bothered. Are you nervous because I’m too pretty?”
You laugh loudly. “I just don’t want to sleep next to a thief.”
“Hey! I already apologized!” Hanni hissed and pouted. You stared at her cheeks, puffing out to two soft and round mochis. Damn it. Your weakness. You couldn’t get angry at her while she was acting this cute. 
“Okay, okay. It doesn’t matter now,” you said. “So, do you have some sleep attire?” It was already too late, both of you were tired. You had to get some sleep before the next day of walking.
“Oh, look at you caring so much for a thief…” she grinned. 
“What—” you cleared your throat. “What are you saying?”
“You almost sound boyfriend-material,” Hanni chuckled with amusement. “Sorry, are you embarrassed?” 
Your pulse jittered somewhere around the 140 mark. Hanni must have noticed it and was having a blast teasing you. “I’m not embarrassed, these are just basic manners. This is what every gentleman would do.”
“Exhibit A.”
“Ugh,” you sigh. “Just get over it.” You took your stuff out and went to take a shower. You were a bit uncomfortable showing yourself in pajamas but it wasn’t like you could do anything else. The real problem was Hanni was done. She came out of the bathroom with a thin pajama made of short shorts and a small shirt. 
She just stood there being all pretty and shy, playing with the hem of her shirt, her face a little down, looking at you through her eyebrows. 
“Why are you looking at me like that? Am I supposed to say something?” you stuttered, matching her energy. Hanni doesn’t answer, instead, her lips quiver. You quickly ruffle your hair out of frustration. “What is this? This really feels like something a couple would do… Well—you look great,” you admitted. The second, the words came out of your mouth, you realize you made an enormous mistake. You quickly raise your head and look at Hanni, she’s already giving you the vilest of smugs, her embarrassment having disappeared completely.
“Heh,” she breathes. You close your eyes to prepare for what she’s going to say next.
“Have you been picturing me in sleepwear?” she giggles. 
“No! I haven’t been picturing you in sleepwear. Get over yourself.
Hanni lowered her eyes to the floor, clutching her shirt and tightening her shirt with her hands. 
You couldn’t help but look at her tremble a little. “It's pretty cold couldn't you bring something longer? I mean, look at your body. It's full of goosebumps.”
“No, I thought this would have been fine but turns out that—hey! You’re staring at my body!” 
“What's up? I didn't look at your body inappropriately. I just noticed you had goosebumps.”
Hanni scuffs but you ignore her. Instead, you took a blanket and wrap her with it. She was startled at first, widening her eyes and glancing at you with a questioning glare, but then she just relaxed and covered herself better with it. 
“Let's finally get this over with. At least the bed is comfy.”
“Okay, but,” Hanni started, raising a finger in the air and dramatically lowering it down to draw a line from the top of the bed all the way down, slicing it like a sandwich. “Don’t dare to cross the side of the bed though.” 
“I won’t, I won’t… Good night.”
“Good night.”
And that was it. You were finally going to sleep. You closed your eyes and tried to forget that you were sleeping next to your crush and you succeeded for a second, until she started moving around. At first she just touched you with her foot. Then she literally pushed you off the bed. Sometimes, she’d wake up, holding her eyes half open half closed and scold you like, “I told you not to cross the line. Stop touching me.” You were too sleepy and didn’t have the heart to fight back so you just kept sleeping.
The worse was when she threw her arm over and slapped you. You got up and stared at her, debating whether to slap her back or make her sleep on the floor. You looked back at the clock. 1:42 am. You sighed and just put the blanket back on her. 
The sixth time you woke up, it wasn’t for some unknown violent act. Instead, you felt a really warm softness on your back. You slowly turned around and saw Hanni hugging your back. Her arm was over and under yours, clinching your abdomen and squishing her face on you. 
Very slowly, you took her arm and put it behind you, so she could roll over. You let out a satisfied sigh when you succeed, only for her to go back at hugging you, this time tighter, on top of that she threw her leg over and koala hugged you. 
Hanni had a wide grin. 
You decided to enjoy yourself. Afterall, feeling her embrace and her low breath on your back was quite relaxing and most of all, it was really comfortable. In fact, you fell asleep fairly quick, imagining you were her boyfriend. 
After an hour, it was Hanni’s turn to wake up.
Someone was blasting music from the room next door, she wasn’t sure if it was from above or from the right but it surely wasn’t quiet. Hanni yawned, stroking her cheek on her very big hugging pillow, annoyed by the sudden disturbance that disrupted her very comfortable slumber. 
But then her pillow started moving and breathing; and she realized it wasn’t a pillow at all. 
“Oh no, oh no,” she whispered, panicked and flustered. You were still sleeping. Good. She peered through the dark to see the clock on the other side, it was three in the morning. “Stay asleep.”
Hanni started debating with herself on whether it might have been you or her who started cuddling. Well, she was definitely the one strapped to you but you were holding her arm too. Maybe, just maybe, it could have been a reflex. No, it was definitely on her. 
“Wow, you smell good,” she let her thoughts wander. “Nope, stop it.” But that really wasn’t the moment. She had to slip out of there before you woke up and then it would have gotten really awkward. Hanni raised her arm and leg, trying to roll on the side but you started tossing and turning. I took a couple of turns and now you were back in the starting position but this time, you were hugging her a bit more. 
And she didn’t mind.
Her bargaining stopped when she realized that after all she didn’t really want to detach herself from you because she was cold, you were warm, and soft, and nice… and cute. Again, Hanni couldn’t stop but let her mind race and enjoy the moment too much. “Oh my god, what's wrong with me?” she cursed herself. “Okay, well, you should stop pulling me closer, because that feels really nice. I can hear your heartbeat.”
Hanni liked you too and she knew it since when her friends invaded your classroom, dragging her together with them. She fell for you without knowing, you slowly crept inside her heart when you treated her so nicely and affectionately, not looking down on her nor admiring her too much. Sometimes you’d sit beside her, when her friends were talking with other friends—leaving her alone—and make her laugh during those very somber days. Hanni fell for you, but she never considered that you could be anything more but now it was too hard to ignore—glued to you—she was very aware of her blossoming feelings.
You woke up. And in the spur of the moment Hanni decided to accuse you of everything.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Oh my god, did you cuddle me in your sleep?”
“I didn’t mean to… Wait, you’re the one hugging me.”
“Hey, you know, it's not that big of a deal that you, like, held me in your sleep.”
“It’s you.”
“No, it isn’t. Hey, this ain't on me. This is 100 % on you, so yeah. And you've got your arm on me. I couldn't have done that. That's like pretty damning evidence right there.”
“You’re so red, Hanni.”
“Oh? Then why is your heart beating so fast?”
“You’re literally attached to me like a koala…”
“Hey, if you like want to confess something, that's totally cool.”
“It sounds like you do.”
“No, I don’t. I don't have anything. I'm not hiding anything. I was just giving you a safe space to get it off your chest.”
“Get off what my chest?”
“Well, you're hiding that you're like super into me or something stupid like that.” Hanni concluded. “Anyways, just go back to sleep, will you?”
As Hanni drifted again into a deep sleep, she started mumbling incoherently. You weren’t asleep yet and just laid there, debating whether you should tell her to shut up, maybe to tease her, or to continue listening to her. Suddenly, a brilliant crossed your mind: recording her. That was the proper revenge for the hell she made you go through that morning. You couldn't resist the opportunity, you slowly got up and took the phone without making a single noise and pressed the record button. 
To your surprise, Hanni muttered your name and then, "You're the best. I love you so much."
Your eyes widened in disbelief. 
Hanni, her voice filled with affection. You have never heard her talk this nicely and you were pretty sure it was directed to you. "I wish I could marry you. You're just so cute." Her words were confused but you could make out what she was saying pretty clearly. 
Your eyes turned into a look of panic when Hanni whispered, "I wish I could tell you how I feel."
You realized that you might have uncovered something you weren’t supposed to. You decided to end the recording, but just as you reached for your phone, Hanni mumbled again, "I wish I could kiss you."
Now you were in full panic mode. He had no idea Hanni felt this way about you. You quickly ended the recording and put your phone away, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation.
Your heart was beating so fast, that alone could’ve woken her up.
Moments later, Hanni stirred and woke up, her eyes fluttering open. She yawned and stretched, completely unaware of what you just did. Then she noticed your face, completely shocked and scared, you were sweating bullets and you were sure she could see a couple of droplets in the moonlight.
"What's going on? What’s with that face?"
You tried to play it cool. "Oh, it's nothing, Hanni. Just a weird dream, that's all."
Hanni wasn’t really buying it but she was to sleepy to really care and turned around. That’s when she saw your phone still on, the big pause button and the soundwave of the recording up. Hanni was sleepy but she wasn’t dumb—the smartest kid in the class earned that name for a reason—she snatched the phone up and put it to her ear. You cursed yourself for making such a mistake: why would you ever leave your phone like that?! Hanni woke up so suddenly and you had no choice but to drop everything you were doing and try to look like you were sleeping but that was a dead giveaway.
Her eyes widened in shock as she listened to herself confess her feelings for you. Mortified, she turned to you, her face bright red. "You recorded me talking in my sleep?!"
You chuckled nervously. "I didn't mean to. It was just a joke, I swear."
Your hand suddenly snatched the phone from hers. It was instinctive. You didn’t why you did it, it was a deep feeling inside you. But Hanni was having none of it. She leaped up from her blanket.  "Give me that phone, you bastard! You have to delete it right now!"
You were surprised by her choice of words but didn’t have time to think about it, you tried to evade her, but Hanni was quick. She chased you around the room and your finger was trying to save the audio to your drive. But running and swiping wasn’t exactly easy, and you exited the app instead of saving the evidence. 
And that was your second mistake: leaving your instagram open. 
Hanni successfully tackled you, making you fall down and your phone flew out of hand. Hanni catched it and ran to the corner of the room, near the door. 
She looked at the screen trying to find where to delete the audio but then she saw a picture of herself. It was her instagram account. Her most recent post had a like. Sure, he must’ve liked the photo randomly, she thought to herself but when she scrolled down and saw more hearts, some questions quickly started forming in her mind.
“Hey… you certainly liked a lot of my photos.”
“Hanni—w-what are you doing? What are you looking at?”
“Your instagram,” Hanni quickly said, busy scrolling on your phone. “Oh my god… you liked all of my posts. You even saved them.”
“Hanni please give me my phone back,” you begged her, trying to take your phone from her but she was faster than you. 
“Let’s talk,” she said in a serious tone.
“Fine,” you agreed.
“You have a little too many pictures of me. What’s that about?”
“You said you wanted to marry me in your sleep.”
“Wha—you were saying you wanted to confess to me to your friend!”
“You watched my DMs?! What do you think you’re doing, Hanni Pham?! You’re violating my privacy!”
“Violating my privacy my ass! You literally recorded me in my sleep, just shut up.”
“Please, Hanni, put it down. I’m going to delete the audio and we’ll forget whatever happened today.”
“You really say the most random stuff to your friend. ‘Hanni is so cute, she is so pretty I can’t stop staring at her…’ Let me see some more.”
“Hanni please I’ll do whatever you want, just stop.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Then say you like me,” Hanni said. She was trying her hardest to look threatening, to emanate a bit of authority but her bright red face showed that you she just as fluttered as you were. “I have seen everything, you might just admit it at this point.”
“Hanni, when you were sleeping you literally said—”
“If you don’t say it, I’m going to post the screenshots of your chat on the class chat.”
“NO! Okay, I’ll say it,” you reluctantly agreed. You took a deep breath and finally spoke, “I… I like you, Hanni.”
Hanni’s face turned into the biggest smile you have ever seen. “Say it again, I didn’t hear it.”
You sighed. “I really like you Hanni.”
“Is it the truth?”
“It… is. Yes.”
“Why?”
“Hanni stop being evil! You have already read everything in that fucking chat. There’s literally everything there—I said it, will you put my phone down now?”
“Okay, it’s fine,” she said and put the phone on the desk. You were to let out a sigh of relief but it remained trapped in your throat when Hanni said, “I like you too.”
“You what?”
“I figured, you already heard me saying it, so I’m gonna say it for real now. I like you too, a lot.”
You two started to laugh awkwardly to fill the silence between her words. When you stopped, the silence was even louder than before. You were looking at the floor and Hanni was looking at the ceiling. 
“What do we do now?” she spoke.
“I don’t know.”
“Shall we sleep.”
“I don’t think we have any other option.”
You two climbed on the bed, hopefully for the last time that night. You laid there still, miles apart from eachother, for several minutes, without anyone saying anything. Hanni decided to speak first, “How long have you liked me for?”
“Oh, we’re starting with those questions?”
“I think I deserve to know.”
“Well… it was since I’ve seen you for the first time in your class.”
“Oh, that long ago?”
“What about you?”
“Since last month.”
“That’s cool.”
Hanni turned to you, her black eyes searching yours, and with a nervous smile, she asked, “Can I ask you something?”
You turned your head and met her gaze, “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
Hanni hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Why do you like me?”
Your brows furrowed in confusion and you let out a happy sigh. “What do you mean, why do I like you. Hanni, there are so many reasons. Your smile, your laugh, the way you make everyone around you happy, your kindness, your intelligence… I can’t pinpoint a specific reason. Whenever I see your face, I feel little better, and I look forward to seeing you again the next day. That’s it really. Why do I love you? Because you make me live with more passion.”
Hanni couldn’t resist, your words were getting to her so she pounced on you, pulling you in a tight hug. You were started but just accepted it, because you loved it. You turned around, and hugged her back, leaving her head on your chest, just to get back at her. 
“This is exactly why I like you so much,” she managed to say groggily.
A kiss was too soon, for each other, so when Hanni got close enough to your face, you nuzzled your noses and pinched her cheeks. They were extremely soft, they were chubby although her face didn’t look like it. The velvety texture of her skin was surprising, it was as if touching a delicate, plush petal. Her cheeks dimpled with the sweetest, childlike charm, and her silly laughter filled you with joy, making it impossible for you to resist her tenderness.
Hanni was blushing madly but she loved it.
“I guess we kind of are really like a couple now huh?” she said. “A thunderstorm outside, cuddling in a king-sized bed. I... I guess I do kind of like staying with you like this. Just a little bit. I guess this wasn't too bad.”
“We’re gonna talk about this tomorrow, let’s sleep for now,” you suggest.
“Yeah, good night.”
THE END
Written, 11 July 2023 - 02 October 2023
740 notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 10 months ago
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Lost Bonds pt 2
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Summary - After the second war, an unexpected bond with Y/n Archeron, and repairing all he's lost, Tamlin is shocked with news from the very female Rhys has been protecting from him.
Warnings- cliffhanger because I liked the suspense, angst in a way, unrequited love, one sided fated mates
A/N - I'm going to apologize and ask for forgiveness now. The rest of this is written, but it was uncomfortably long. I broke it into 3 parts, so you all weren't reading a short novella.
Read part one here Pt 3
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Winnowing was the stupidest form of transportation, y/n thinks she has ever used. 
She sighed as she walked through the woods she found herself in, praying silently to the void that she was still in the Night Court. 
It definitely did not smell like home, though. The sweet scent of flowers and petrichor surrounded her like a warm embrace. Welcoming her, relaxing her. Her finally clue she was lost came from looking up once more. The trees were blooming. It was late winter in Velaris. Yet here, small pink and white buds covered every tree she could see. They swayed in a soft, rain scented breeze that almost seemed to tingle her skin.
She sighed heavily, playing with the wedding ring and band resting on her left ring finger. She didn't know if Azriel would be proud or upset. She had managed to winnow herself from the Illyrian Steppes to Spring. 
Even new to the world of the fae, she knew that was not an easy thing to do. It explained her exhaustion, the small trickle of blood running down her nose. She continued walking, hoping she would find someone, anyone who may help her. 
Tamlin felt someone enter his court uninvited and shifted to head their way. All the High Lords had just received a message from Rhysand regarding her.
Azriel had evidently been training her with her new powers blooming and suddenly appearing out of nowhere. She had been practicing winnowing, and now they could not find her.
It would have been ridiculous to assume an untrained female had made her way all the way down to the seasonal courts, but after Nesta had shown her hand just a few years ago, and Elain after that, it would not have surprised any of the High Lords at this point. He continued moving closer to the border between his court and the human realm, following where the magic was alerting and then pausing. 
You stood before him, illyrian leathers clinging to every beautiful curve. He shifted with a heavy sigh. “Come. Let's get you to The Manor so Rhysand can come get you.” The look of relief washing over your features tugged at his heart. The bond had not snapped for you, but he didn't need to feel your emotions to know you were afraid and very tired. 
You took his hand, bracing yourself as he tore through the fabric of the world and landed in a garden outside of his repaired estate. “You need food,” he said casually. “We can either go inside so you can eat while you wait for him, or there's a table out here.” 
He wanted to beg you to come inside, to see what he had done, to see what your home should look like. He had imagined for years now a life with you. A life where he heard your laughter every day, where you loved him and he you.
He had rebuilt his home with that life in mind. A grand piano sat centered in a sunroom you'd both use for entertaining. A dais where two thrones sat. Rooms for future children if you want them. He rebuilt the manor with love he had buried away for you. And now he hoped you noticed it, acknowledged it even. You belonged here. You would radiate here.
Aside from showing your body, the black leathers of the Night Court did nothing for you. You needed to be in jewel tones, in light colors. He remembered your skin glowing in the gown at the High Lords meeting. He ignored the pain in his chest as he saw the ring sitting on your finger, the one that matched that dress perfectly.
Blue was a lovely color for you. The silver band was plain as if Azriel had not put much thought into the ring. It was beautiful, but his heart rebroke, knowing it should have been rose gold and diamonds sitting on that finger. 
You motioned inside, wordlessly avoiding eye contact with him. He took you to the dining room where dinner had been waiting for him and grabbed another plate and cup. 
He served you in silence. The familiarity of the situation almost mocked him. “Thank you,” your voice was so soft it had him almost shivering. It had been 6 years since the war ended, 6 years without seeing or hearing it, and it had his soul burning. He yearned for you. His perfect match. 
He nodded. “You're welcome.” He summoned a paper, writing a note to Rhysand and the other High Lords that he had found you and where you had made it to. “Rhys will probably come running, so eat quickly.”
You shook your head. “He's so busy with Nyx lately that he hardly cares what I'm up to. He will send Azriel.” His throat tightened. He'd had to see his mate with her husband. 
Your husband, who was probably worried sick, who probably had been searching as far out as he could. “Then you should definitely eat quickly. Mother knows how desperately he probably wants his wife back home.” Tamlin clocked the way your eyes grew sad, the small frown that formed.
“Yeah. I suppose.” He didn't question that sadness, allowing you whatever space you needed to process it alone.
You were so comfortable next to the male who had ruined everything for you that it was almost laughable. Tamlin, to your shock, was warm. He was being kind. He seemed to know what you needed before you even asked. You had pictured Tamlin as this monster for so long. A cruel male with a heart of stone, but his mere presence had something glowing in your chest, sending warmth through your body.  “I thought the manor was destroyed.”
Tamlin's green eyes looked towards you, spoon held halfway to his mouth. “I had a reason to fix it, along with the whole court.”
You nodded. “It's really pretty.” The walls were lined with Vining floral, marble floors dancing with natural stone veining. Soft green curtains veiled the large floor to ceiling windows. "Elain would love all the flowers. She used to make me work in the gardens with her. I miss it sometimes."
He seemed to blush at the words. “Thank you. And if you truly miss working gardens, there are plenty here that would love attention." Your lips twitched up, but you two fell back into silence.
Tamlin was unsure of what to say to his mate. A piece of parchment appeared beside him, elegant script gracing the page. “Rhys will be here in a moment with Azriel.”
You nodded before caving and asking the question that had been on your mind since you first met the male in his beast form, breaking down the door to the rundown shack you all called home. “What was the significance of killing the wolf?”
He turned to you, brows raised. “Feyre didn't tell you?” You shook your head, staring at the tea you were holding. “I was cursed by one of Hyberns former generals. In short, I had to make a mortal who hated fae enough to kill one fall in love with me in order to break her spell and free the lands. That wolf was one of my closest friends.” The last sentence was barely audible. “Feyre killing him made her the only one who could break the curse.”
As your face fell into confusion, darkness appeared in the manor, gathering in the corner like a void until Azriel and Rhysand stepped out. “Tamlin,” Rhysand greeted smoothly. You couldn't help but to laugh at the High Lord, covered in paint, hair ruffled, eyes tired. “y/n, are you okay?”
You stood nodding, and Azriel moved quickly to you, arms around your waist as he picked you up and held you close. Once he set you down, you turned to Tamlin. “Thank you for sheltering and feeding me and for the invitation to play in your gardens."
“Of course,” he and Rhysand were locked into a stare down, one Rhysand clearly had every intention of winning. “She is unharmed, Rhysand. Just tired and needing rest. You're allowing him to push too hard.” 
Rhys narrowed his eyes, looking to you then back to Tamlin before nodding. “I will consider your opinion. Let's go, y/n. Nyx was distraught when he heard you were missing.”  Any chance Tamlin may have had of convincing you to stay faded instantly. You moved to Rhysand, letting him take your hand and examine your face for any injuries. “Azriel, let's go.”
The shadowsinger nodded and spoke coldly to Tamlin. “Thank you for caring for my wife.”
Tamlin hid a scoff behind his wine and nodded. “It wasn't for your benefit, spymaster.” The two glared hard towards each other before Azriel smirked and walked towards you. 
A feeling of guilt sat in your stomach, lingering there as Rhys began to summon his magic. “Wait,” you pulled your hand away from Rhys and took a step closer to Tamlin. “I'm sorry.”
The Lord of Spring arched a brow feeling the conflict in you from the bond. “For?”
You took a heavy breath, hands shaking as you subconsciously reached for Azriel's hand. You needed his familiarity, possibly his protection. You were about to tell Tamlin something that may have made everything he had gone through feel empty, like his love for your sister had been for nothing. You took a deep breath, looking up and sending a silent prayer to the Mother.
“Feyre didn't kill the wolf," the faces of all three males dropped, the secret finally coming out and being brought to light. “I did."
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General Taglist:
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letstalkaboutshtufff · 9 months ago
Text
In another life pt 2
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader
Summary: A visit to Nanami and trip down memory lane
Warnings: Language and suggestive themes but only a bit lol
Part 3
****************************************************
A/N: was so overwhelmed by the amount of love I received for part one!! Thank you all so much for the support😭🩵
“This is definitely a first” Nanamis gaze travelled up and down your body.
You shuffled uncomfortably from your place on the couch. Gojo stood leaning on the wall behind you.
“Yeah I’ve been hearing that a lot today..” you sighed.
“Hmm, well from what I know. This curse has been known to travel through dimensions, which is why he’s been so hard to catch in the past. He disappeared several years ago after somehow escaping from a seal. Looks like he ended up in your universe.”
“That makes sense, it was only a couple years ago he appeared and Satoru subdued him. A couple months ago he told me he found some weird residual energy on the seal but otherwise everything was ok… I guess the theory of the spy was correct but…” you brought a hand to your chin.
“Go on” he encouraged.
“We placed three seals on them. There’s no way an amateur broke through them… I wonder if he has any clue on who it could be...”
BZZT BZZT BZZT
“Another call?” Gojo tilted his head forward.
You picked up the phone and read “Weird Bangs” well speak of the devil!
“Nope just a text.”
-Hey you ok? Satoru just told me what happened. Don’t worry, we’re investigating as we speak. We’ll have you home in no time.
You smiled warmly and replied,
-Thanks Sugu, I have complete faith in you two. And don’t worry I’m ok.
“Anything important?”
“Not really, Sugu was just checking in. By the way, is he on a mission or something? I haven’t sensed your version of him yet. Unless you don’t have a version of him which would be honestly so weird since I swear you two are like your own couple..”
Little did you know the room had gone from warm to freezing cold.
“What did you just say…”
“Huh?” You tensed seeing the mood was a bit off now.
“Wait…don’t tell me he’s…dead?” Instant dread washed over you.
“No..he’s very much alive…” (excuse me while I change the timeline a little)
“Then what’s-“ you tilted your head.
“Nanami, what can you tell us about the curse transporting other people?”
You blinked at his sudden change in topic.
“Honestly nothing.” Your shoulders slumped.
“Really?”
“Yes but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you get home safely”.
“Thanks Nanami…” you tried not to feel to sad, after all you had so many people working hard to figure it out.
“Well it’s getting late, why don’t we continue this tommorow, Nanami you’ll reach out if you find anything yeah?”
He nodded, “I’ll dig into some of the old archives, and let you know what I find.”
“Thank you Nanami” you smiled and followed gojo out of the room.
“So what now?” The sun had set and you realized that for the first time in years you were not going to sleep in your own bed, cuddled next to your husband.
“Well… I could take you to one of the spare dorms here but considering the curse is still out there I think it’s best if you stick with me”
“So back to your place?” Haha that takes you back.
“That ok with you?”
“Mhmm” not like I’m used to anything else but being with you…
“Ok then, hang on” he touched your shoulder and suddenly you were transported to a place that smelled like fresh linen and his cologne.
“Oh wow this takes me back” you flicked on the light and took in the old place.
Gojo raised a brow that you seemed to know your way around.
“I take it you’ve been here before?”
You nodded fondly while taking in the place once again, “yeah, we spent so much time here back while we were dating…I lived in a really crappy apartment that you had to bend down in.” You laugh at the memory.
You turn to look out the floorlength window and promptly scream.
“AHH is that me!?!? Have I looked like this all day!?!” You could barely see your skin it was covered in dirt and grime from the previous fight and your hair was basically inviting birds to make it their home.
“I need to shower…” ah crap I didn’t think to stop and get clothes.
“I’ll find you some clothes… the shower is over the-“ but you were already beelining towards the bathroom eagerly to wash the filth off of you.
“Right you already know… so weird” he crossed his arms.
The second the steaming water hit your body you sighed in relief. It took a good 15 minutes for the water to run clear.
Using his body wash sure took you back to the days you’d sleep over. Those days were some of the best of your life. Watching movies late into the night, eating junk food, making out, falling asleep tangled together…
You shut your eyes before the tears could come.
No, none of that, you had the best and strongest people on the case. You’d be home soon, so let’s think of this as a weird mini vacation.
After your shower you dried yourself off and peeked into the bedroom where the door connected to. Sure enough you found a set of his pjs on the bed.
His shirt engulfed you, looking more like a dress. You thought for a moment to forgo the pants but realized you probably shouldn’t go pantless and underwearless around new Gojo.
Once you were decent you stepped outside into the main living space.
A delicious aroma immediately invaded your senses.
Wait… no fricken way!?
“You cook!?!?”
“Huh?” Gojo paused to look back over his shoulder. “Of course I cook… does your Gojo not?”
“He- he tried once but burnt everything… and anyway I’m home way more so I usually do the cooking..”
“Well I hope you like seafood, I haven’t gone shopping yet so there wasn’t really many options.”
He turned back to the stove to continue stirring.
You sat on one of the counter barstools and watched him in awe.
He even has the towel thrown over his shoulder and everything...
“So tell me about other Gojo. How did you guys meet?”
“Well… actually it’s kind of embarrassing…”
“Oh well now I have to know”
“Well I was jogging by this old elementary school and this curse popped out. It was so cute tho it looked like a super fluffy puppy. And then suddenly you popped in, ready to blast it to smithereens when I jumped in front and defended it….” He paused his stirring and looked over at you again.
“Yeah I know.. it was crazy but the curse really wasn’t that bad. So anyway I picked it up and started running away from you…”
“Pfft seriously?”
“Yeah… you should’ve seen your face haha. I made it about 10 steps before you warped in front of me”
*Flashback*
“Uh listen lady, that thing your holding is very dangerous so it’s best if you-“
“No way!”
“Huh?”
“No way, he’s just a little baby, he hasn’t hurt anyone!” You hugged the curse tight to your body and for some reason the curse seemed… relaxed?
“Lady… it’s a curse.. we can’t exactly just leave it to roam free..”
“Well then….”you thought for a moment..
“I’ll keep it!”
“You’ll keep it…” he repeated to himself in disbelief
“Mhm hm” you nodded.
“Uh…” he watched you snuggle the curse closer and the curse for whatever bizarre reason seemed content.
“It hasn’t hurt anyone has it?”
“Not that I’m aware of..”
“Then it’s settled! I’m keeping him.”
“Uh…”
“Don’t worry, I have some skill in exorcizing curses if anything goes wrong but it won’t will it little cutie?” You rubbed under its chin and it started to purr.
“Ok so you’re serious…uh well here’s my number… in case he decides to turn murdery and you can’t handle him”
You smile and hand him your phone, when he hands it back you glance down and let out a little gasp.
He smirked, you must’ve realized who he was now.
“You have the same screensaver as me! I love that show!!”
Oh
“Haha well it is a good show, even if the heroine sucks.”
“What- what did you just say?! She’s the best one!”
“No way, if you ask me the best friend should be in the spotlight.”
“That snobby bitch? No way” you made a face.
“Snobby? I see it as confidence.”
“You must’ve gotten knocked in the head too many times by a curse..”
“Well it doesn’t really matter, I think she’s gonna take that job in the next episode.”
“Wait you think so? As much as I hate her, she makes the story interesting.”
“Yeah I-“ BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT
“Ah sorry hold on”
You watched him turn and take the call. Looking at him now, even without seeing his eyes you could tell he was good looking.
“Sorry, duty calls. Make sure to call me if…that thing suddenly decides to eat you ok?”
“I will, thanks”
He whooshed away and you looked down at your phone.
Satoru Gojo….
Oh my god
No fucking way…
He had the same name as your favorite book character! What a small world…
“Alright cutie, let’s get you home. I wonder what you eat?”
*End flashback*
“Don’t tell me you still have that thing?”
“That thing has a name and his name is cutie. And to this day he hasn’t hurt a fly! Well actually that’s a lie because he does eat all the bugs around the house.. but other than that he’s harmless. He does chew the furniture though..” awe I hope he’s ok..
“You’re a little strange you know that?”
“You’re one to talk..”
“Hey, you shouldn’t insult the hand that feeds you.”
“You’re right sorry chef” you bowed jokingly then went to grab plates to set the table.
“Oh I hope you don’t mind me touching stuff.” You retracted your hand afraid he might get upset.
“Be my guest.” He waved nonchalantly.
Ten minutes later you were sat across each other.
“Oh lemme grab some drinks” he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen again.
You nodded and began plating your dish and his. His having three times the portion like usual.
Gojo came back and sat down with his mouth slightly open.
You realized your mistake and felt heat rise to your cheeks. “S-sorry it- I did that out of habit. Didn’t mean to make you feel weird..”
“It’s fine it’ll just take some getting used to is all…” he smirked and dug in.
“Thank you for the meal.” You twirled your fork around the shrimp and pasta and took a bite.
Oh
Oh
Oh hell no
“Something wrong?”
“Satoru this is amazing… like really really amazing”
“Glad you like it”
“No but seriously this is so good…Why can’t my version do this??”
You took another bite and swooned, maybe you’d leave your version for this one…
BZZT BZZT BZZT
“Oh it’s you! Well other you..”
“Satoru?”
“Hey babe you doing alright?”
“Yeah, I’m alright… we met with Nanami earlier, he said he’s going to do some more research and let us know if he finds anything..”
“Same here, Suguru and I are tracking the curse down but it’ll take a little bit of time, he’s a slippery one that’s for sure”
“Mm, sorry for putting everyone through this trouble…”
“Don’t worry, I have plenty of ways you can make it up to me later”
“Ah geez I need to stop putting you on speaker..”
“You’re not alone? It’s pretty late..”
“Yeah well other you thought it would be best to keep me close for safety reasons. I’m here at the old penthouse actually.”
“….”
“Toru?”
“You’re with other me?”
You blinked. “Uh yes?“
“Hey other me!”
You tilt the phone closer to this Gojo so he can hear better.
“Uh yes?”
“I know it’s tempting but no canoodling my girl alright?”
“S-satoru!”
“Not even a little touch, I mean it.”
“Satoru what are you talking about?! I just met the guy!”
“And? Do you remember how I was back then?”
“Well...” yeah a manwhore..
“Oh yeah and another word of advice, no girls over to the place. She gets suuuuuuper jealous, one time she even told our pet to attack and-“
“I did not! That was-!-you know that was an accident!”
“Mhmm sure”
“You know cutie feeds off my feelings, I didn’t tell him to bite her arm!”
“Of course sweetheart of course..”
“You- what about that time you hijacked my date!”
“That was purely coincidental, I was in the area.”
“Sure you were…”
“Anywhoooooo, did you take your meds?”
“Y-yeah”
“Liar”
“Hey make sure she gets those pills, she’ll faint without them and I don’t need her falling into anyone else’s arms”
“S-satoru good night already, I’ll talk to you later…”
“Alright sorry, you know I worry. Night baby, don’t feel too lonely without me”
*click*
“Ugh annoying jerk” you words didn’t match your soft tone.
Gojo leaned back in his chair and scanned your form.
Did he? Did a version of him really fall in love and settle down. You were certainly beautiful but he’d been with a lot of beautiful women.. did your strength draw his attention? He supposed he hasn’t seen you fight yet, maybe he would fix that soon..
“Oh uh sorry you had to hear all that again, I hope it’s not too weird”
“Well I’m not gonna lie and say it’s normal but..”
You smiled and brought another forkful to your mouth.
“Thank you for everything, really… you don’t even know me and you’re doing all this..”
“Well hey don’t worry about it, any alter ego/universe me’s wife is a friend of mine”
“Heh thanks” glad to know all Gojos humor are the same across universes.
After dinner you helped clean up and were lounging on the couch while Gojo went to shower.
He wouldn’t mind if you turned on the tv right?
So far this Gojo was 99.8 percent a carbon copy of yours so no he wouldn’t mind.. plus tonight the new episode of “Wishing I was yours” was airing and you couldn’t miss it..
And that’s how Gojo found you 20 minutes later, arms wrapped around your knees cuddling a pillow, tearful eyes glued to the TV screen.
‘No! No you can’t leave me. You can’t give up after everything we’ve been through’
‘Forgive me my love, you’ll have to continue this journey without me…’
‘No! I need you!!’
‘I’m only going to put you in danger… it has to be this way… I’m sorry’
‘Noooooooooooooooo!’
How can she watch this crap…
Gojo made his presence known and stepped in front of the couch.
“Oh hey, I-i hope it was ok that I- ah no don’t go!!” Your focus was quickly redirected back to the gripping scene. You groaned when the credits rolled.
“Dammit you were right about the ending…now I have to do that thing… ugh” you mumbled into the pillow.
Gojo couldn’t help but be curious what that thing was but stayed quiet.
“Don’t tell me that I actually watch this kind of stuff?”
He sat on the other end of the couch watching as you paused the tv and turned towards him.
“Well not at first but we worked out a deal, every week we watch one of my picks and one of your picks… but ugh you always choose the scariest stuff…”
“Better than unrealistic lovey dovey crap…”
“Unrealistic?? Says the one who spouts the most corniest lines 24/7”
The title screen for another episode started playing and he swiftly grabbed the remote.
“Allow me to show you what true cinema is.”
Uh oh, you had a bad feeling about this..
1 hour later
“Ah no way no way no way” Gojo smirked watching how you hid behind a pillow shaking like a leaf.
“Oh come on, it’s not even the scary part yet…”
“Liar! Ew ew ew I accidentally looked again”
“Human snake vs Octogator is a masterpiece , you’re insulting one of the greatest films of all time!”
“You just chose this because you knew it would scare me!”
“Lady I barely know you, is that something I would do?” He smiled, glowing eyes peeking behind his glasses.
“Yes, that is exactly what you would do..”
Well you sure did seem to know him he was realizing more and more…
After the movie you were basically half asleep so Gojo decided to call it a night.
Sleepily you rose up and followed after Gojo to the hallway. But instead of turning right to the guest room you automatically turned left to his room and bumped into his back.
“Huh”
You froze, eyes shooting up to his.
“A-ah s-sorry!” Embarrassed you darted to the guest room and shut the door.
BZZT BZZT BZZT
Hm?
*NEW MESSAGE*
-Since you’re all alone, use this to tide your appetite over xoxo
*image loading*
“Ah-!”
The heat rose to your cheeks immediately.
(I’ll let you imagine what kind of picture he sent lol)
-Don’t send anything back tho ok? Don’t want the creep next door spying on you and catching a glimpse of my pretty girl~”
-he’s in another room obviously..
-wait he wouldn’t look through the walls with his eyes would he??
-would- did you ever do that??
-ah gotta go baby, the line is bad, nighty night!
-We’re texting idiot, what line?! And answer the question!!
-xoxo 💋
Ugh jerk… you threw the phone on the bed then slowly got in the unfamiliar bed.
You hated sleeping alone… even when he was out on overnight missions you were surrounded by his scent, his clothes, his everything…
You grabbed a pillow and snuggled it for comfort.
“I miss you idiot…”
Part 3
***************************************************
Aaaaaaand that’s chapter 2! What did you guys think about Suguru’s mention hehe. The angst boat is coming y’all, but first came a little fluff before the storm. Please lemme know what you thought! Until next time!
@gojosatorulover7 @goaway-plzz @goldenglow149 @taakt17 @kneesheee @yumii-34 @ritsatoru @generalstephkenobi @author20 @bitchycloudstrawberry @hojoslutoru
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 23 days ago
Note
I know you've probably gotten a lot of requests for PRESSURE, but hear me out? Reader X Anglers (platonic), where reader was sent to work in the Hadal Blacksite. Urbanshade was Reader's only chance at a job due to circumstance and they were desperate; they weren't aware what they were getting into UNTIL Urbanshade had signed them up. Now a "handler" of these mutant fish, the least they can do is lessen their misery... Until the Saboteur let's everything aggressive loose.
YAY! Angler request thank you. As annoying as those fish(?) are I think they're very underrated
(in case this needs to be reiterated, this is all PLATONIC)
......
Being desperate for a job and willing to pretty much do whatever it took to get hired anywhere, Urbanshade was the only one willing to offer you an immediate position.
However, you had to be sworn to secrecy and go through an extensive background check and other trials....just for them to transport you to the Hadal Blacksite, where they said you'll be informed of your duties.
Given the extensive security measures already in place, you assumed you were dealing with endangered sea life--or even extinct species Urbanshade revived or rediscovered.
Then you were sent to the heavy containment sector and saw what they were actually hiding down here:
A mutant angler fish--one pink and one grey--a viperfish, a frog with razor sharp teeth, and a dead(?) green blobfish. They were all huge and unlike anything you've seen before.
They were all designated as Z-283, although there were nicknames given to four of them: Pinkie, Blitz, Froger, and Chainsmoker.
The Angler was just, well, Angler.
You didn't know what kind of aquatic rehabilitation facility this was, but they didn't even look like fish that belonged in one, especially as their tanks didn't contain any water, although according to documents, that wasn't even necessary.
Smoke clouded every part of their bodies except their faces, so you couldn't get a good read on how their fins and tails are holding up (assuming they have those at all).
Least to say...it took some time getting used to seeing their frightening looks every shift.
Especially as sometimes Angler, Blitz, and Pinkie liked to scare the hell out of you by shrieking, ramming into the window barriers of their cells, and causing brief power surges.
Your main tasks were to monitor them and keep them fed and happy, although you weren't allowed to make physical contact with them.
Apparently their touch can kill...so you can understand why they needed somebody to watch them at all times and keep their behaviors in check.
But the more you interact with them, the more you start to realize that these anglers (and viperfish, frog, and blobfish) were probably just animals who were simply trying to live within the Let-Vand Zone, only to be taken and shoved into a distressing environment.
Urbanshade claims they aren't "alive", but all you see are scared animals who only knew misery.
You especially didn't like overhearing that they've used prisoners as test subjects. And they're not even food.
Out of water, they can all recognize you by scent and are seemingly aware of how good you've been to them compared to most operatives.
Because when Sebastian/The Saboteur sets them loose and causes the lockdown, and you nearly get killed by one of the many Wall Dwellers...Angler comes to your defense, eating its flesh whole.
At first you think you've finally tamed it--until the fish creature gives you that same murderous and hungry look as it gave those test subjects.
Luckily it gives you a head start and you manage to find a crawlspace out of its line of sight, watching it cause chaos and kill whatever poor sap happened to run into that same room.
Yeah...your job definitely didn't quite prepare you for this kind of scenario..
When the Expendable Protocol is initiated, Sebastian found you and only allowed you live because you could keep the anglers off his back while he's trying to find supplies and figure out how to escape.
They'll listen to you sometimes, although you learn Pinkie and Blitz are very brash and like to do their own things sometimes--while Froger and Chainsmoker are more willing to obey.
But if Pandemonium ever caught sight of you?
May god help you because none of them will.
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melodic-haze · 8 months ago
Note
haii!! I really like ur arle fic ^_^ could you write smth for sub yelan? can be a thirst :)
☆ — SONG TITLE: Safe and sound
☆ — PAIRING: sub!Yelan x dom!Reader
☆ — TYPE: Hurt with comfort, fluff, NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: MIGHT be ooc bc by GOD do I barely remember things now, gn but she calls you "doll" so there's that, praise kink, body worship, soft sex :3, fingering to cunnilingus pipeline, does it count as semi-public if you have sex in the bedroom interior thing of the pharmacy, silly banter bc I think sex is silly❗️❗️❗️
☆ — NOTES: HIII YAYYY THANK YOU 🫶🫶🫶 I absolutely can anon❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️ I need Yelan in my life so baaaad. Also do they even have actual hospitals in Liyue cuz Bubu Pharmacy's.....a pharmacy 😓 idc pretend they have patient rooms
☆ — WORD COUNT: 3,875 wtf
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You told yourself that you knew what you were getting into, when you began your relationship with Yelan.
She's a busy woman—when your girlfriend technically doesn't exist for the sake of keeping her job as the personal intelligence officer for the Tianquan, you didn't really have a choice but to accept that things would be.. inconvenient for both you and your relationship.
You knew there would be risks. You knew that in order to make this work, the both of you had to reconcile with the fact that neither of you are completely safe from the possible consequences that came from her working in the more definitely-not-legal clandescine side of peacekeeping. One wrong move and she, the hunter, could get hunted.. and you could easily be used as bait.
You both knew that, and neither of you took it lightly. Obviously not; one stupid mistake and whatever cover she had on would be uprooted and someone would get hurt. But it's easy to admit that with how proficient your lover is with her work, the danger seems oh so far away...
Which makes the falling action hit all the more harder, because hope is a painfully fragile thing.
You're a storyteller at the Heyu Tea House, much like Liu Su is. Perhaps you could've worked at Yanshang, considering your very intimate connection with its owner, but such closeness risked turning you into an accessory people could exploit to reach their target. Those who've witnessed you consider you a talent—you had a way of weaving words together at a second's notice, your voice the only element needed to transport the public's focus and imagination to another world.
Yelan had admired that silver-tongued quality of yours.. or, as she had joked about more than once, your delightful skill with your mouth. The joke aside, it was something that you two had in common, except you told tales of the brave and the bold with freedom and joyous passion while she told tales of ever-shifting identities to keep herself hidden as she did her job.
..But no tales of glory could ever reassure you when a messenger brought news of Yelan's state, no tales of security could keep you above the ocean of overwhelming dread.
You had to rush over to Bubu Pharmacy, not caring that you were leaving work and all the tea house's patrons behknd when you had just been told that she was in critical condition. What kind of state is she in? How did it happen?
By the time you get there, you were almost ready to burst into the interior before Herbalist Gui steps in the way, "Wait, wait. Who--"
"Where.." you heaved, having just ran basically from one end of the Harbor to another, "where is she? Yelan? Inside, yes? I have to--"
"Slow down."
"But she's in critical--"
"Assuming you're the one I've been told to wait for, she was in critical condition. She's recovering, at the moment.. though Dr. Baizhu himself was tasked to brief you about it inside."
The feeling of relief was small and momentary but comforting, "Then can I see her? Please?"
He nodded before opening the door himself, "Just don't rush in like you were about to."
With a hum of affirmation, you stepped inside, eyes darting around to find your lover before eventually locking onto a certain bedridden figure in hushed conversation, along with Dr. Baizhu.. and Lady Ningguang.
Sure, it would've done you some good to act relatively composed in the Qixing's presence, but it's not like that was the time for it.
So instead you quickly walk over with urgency, the other two weren't much of a priority to you right now, "Yelan!"
She pauses before turning her head and smiles as she sees you approach, opening her arms to you, "Y/N, sweetheart, there you are..."
You move to quickly embrace her, burying your face in the crook of her neck. Her familiar scent and her comforting warmth overtaking your senses and reassuring you that she is fine and she is NOT dying and--
You feel her wince before trying her best to cover it up, unintentionally prompting you to let go. You look at her with worry once again before you see her try to smile, though it looks more like a grimace to you.
"I'll be fine, you don't need to treat me like I'm made of glass." She then winks at you, as if she wasn't at all injured, "You know I like it rough, doll."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a huff despite the situation, "Your possible death bed isn't really the place to be joking like this..."
She shrugged, "On the contrary, I think this is the perfect time. I'm not dead yet, though."
"You could've been."
"You, indeed, could've been."
Both of you turned to look at the two briefly forgotten figures in the room, said two sporting small smiles befitting of their own nature. The doctor's snake, Changsheng, looks to the side as if disinterested but you see that there's some sort of pleasant glint on her eyes.
Baizhu starts off slow, as if speaking to a spooked deer, probably for your sake, "Unfortunately, Yelan's life was almost taken due to a mix of a poison build-up and bleeding out too much. We've.. had to keep her here in secret for a while in order to keep watch of her state. At least," he let out a light chuckle, "until she managed to stay conscious for longer than five minutes."
"It was a lot of trouble, you know." The albino snake hissed out, "Really had to keep an eye on her 24/7 in case she suddenly curled up and died more than she looked instead of just taking a nap."
"Now, my case wasn't that dire--"
"Barbaric as it is, I'll bite you and fill you with poison again if you say otherwise, human--"
"Before your pet snake threatens my agent's life a week after she almost died, might I suggest we hurry this along? I'm sure Y/N would like to be alone with your patient instead of witnessing this little farce of yours." Despite her words, Ningguang's lips had easily curled into a small smirk, her eyebrows slightly raised and her tone amused.
"Come now, you heard the Tianquan; no need to threaten the patient, Changsheng," Baizhu sighed as he softly nudged her head away with a knuckle. "The sooner we brief her other half over here, the sooner you can go, okay?"
The snake companion offered no other form of acknowledgement beyond a little huff before resting her head on Baizhu's shoulder.
"So..." You start, "You're telling me that she's been here for.. a week."
Ningguang nods.
"And nobody went to tell me."
The Tianquan let out a small sigh before lifting a hand to idly summon a few of her small gem constructs and swirling it around, "After thinking it through, we weren't necessarily left with a choice. She was in dire need of immediate help, everything else came after."
'Necessary' this, 'thinking' that, it was getting a bit infuriating, "If it was so bad then why send her in such a dangerous mission in the first place?!"
"It wasn't supposed to be."
You all turned to look at Yelan, who had been silently watching you on her bed, and you just now notice the slender hand that gently tugged down on your arm.
She then turns to the others with a smile, "I'll take the rest of the explanation. With my service, I think I'm at least owed some time alone with this sweetheart I'm holding onto right now."
Ningguang nods as Baizhu stands up, the both of them moving to leave. However, you hear the doctor call out as he closes the door, smug amusement practically radiating off his voice, "Don't exhaust her too much now!"
The door closes, leaving you two alone, and you couldn't help but cringe at the Doctor's remark as Yelan laughed. That moment only lasted for a few moments, however, before worry and dread came back to make itself known to you.
"I'm still mad, you know."
"I know, doll."
"And worried."
"Mhm."
"If you knew then why wasn't I told that you've been here this whole time?" You ducked your head as your hands sought to hold onto yoour lover's own, "You could've died nearby and I wouldn't have known until it was too late."
Her hands reciprocated your gesture, giving you a light squeeze, "Don't hate me."
"What for?"
"I was the one who told them not to say anything until I was all better."
"..But why?"
"It was something I arranged with Ningguang a while ago about you; if I'm ever in a really bad state, it should be kept secret until I either recover or.. well, you know."
"That's not telling me why."
"I was getting to that, sweetheart," she chuckled as she lifted one of your hands to press a small kiss on the back of it, "it's to protect you. I'm not risking my life to risk yours even more.. and I didn't want you getting worried or getting false hope in case I didn't get through. I wanted to come back to you injury-free."
You took pause, considering her words. You knew she was right, getting all wound up about something that would or wouldn't have come would've been.. stressful. And in doing so, there's a chance that you might be identified and used against her. It might be extreme, but it pays to be careful when your girlfriend's basically a spy.
"You still had me worried, though."
"Haha, yeah, I'm sorry."
"I almost knocked some poor patron's tea onto his lap from rushing out to see you and yet all you do is laugh it off."
Yelan snorted, "Really?"
"Yes? I don't have time to be careful when you could've been dead! What even happened?"
"I took a gamble on the whole thing and it ended up backfiring, that's all."
"..And I'm guessing that's all you'll tell me?"
"Until I get the all-clear, yes. Sorry, love."
"That's fine. It's.. the same old. I just wish you were more careful."
"Mm. I said I'm sorry, didn't I?"
You look up at her to reply but you stop in your tracks as you see the way she's looking at you.
Her eyes, coloured a dazzling aquamarine, looked at you with such love and care. Coupled up with that easy, relaxed smile, it reminds you of why you're willing to put up with.. all this for the love of your life.
Your words are taken from you and you couldn't care less, not when she lets go of your hands and wraps them around your neck.
"I missed you," she says, and you can't help but melt.
"I missed you too. So much."
"Then can I..?"
Your eyes crinkled at the request, easily falling back into the dynamic you have with her, "We're not done talking about this. And you're not meant to be exhausted."
"I almost died, can't a woman get a reward for surviving a bad roll?"
"You could, but that's not how you ask."
Her voice turns airy yet raspy at your reminder, her tone simultaneously taunting and begging, "Please?"
"..Alright, fine then. Come here." And that's all you say before you both lean in, her arms slowly tugging you down on the bed with her as you follow through the movement.
Soon enough, you're on top of her as slow, gentle kisses progressed and increased in intensity, her hands wandering and grasping onto you as if you were her one lifeline, the reason why she lived. And perhaps you are, with the way she cherishes you and lets you do whatever you wish to her, both in body and soul. Your touch, in contrast to her uncoordinated movements, is gentle and unhurried as you make sure to be careful of possibly hurting the woman underneath you.
The both of you make relatively quick work in removing the clothes you have on, with more effort on your part due to your insistence in letting her lean back so that she doesn't accidentally strain herself. You almost regret it when you see the state of her body—the bruises are fading away faster than it probably would've, were it not for Baizhu's help, but the cuts...
"Even with the doctor's healing, they don't look too good, do they?" You hear Yelan muse, her ever so confident tone slightly tinged with a touch of self-consciousness, "You don't need to look at them, doll. I wouldn't--"
"No, they're.. beautiful."
She snorts again, an unsure smirk on her lips and a light pink dusting her cheeks, "Usually I'd agree, but those are recent gashes you're looking at."
"And?" You raised an eyebrow, "They may look a bit.. gnarly but you survived all of this. How can I not think they're beautiful? How can I not think you're beautiful?"
She doesn't say anything back, though you hear her exhale shakily before she pulls you back into another brief kiss. You don't stay there long, however, as you slowly make your way down: gently biting and licking her neck, playing and sucking onto her nipples with great care, kissing every scar and bruise and wound she's received in great reverence to the one you love, caressing every inch of her body...
Underneath you, Yelan squirms in pleasure and anticipation, her breathing deep and her skin flushed as you take your time in worshipping every single inch of her body. Her hips rock up in an effort to grind her clit up on your thigh. She was desperate—of all the places you decided to caress, you've yet to touch the one place she needed you the most after the whole time you've been apart. You knew this, and yet you kept going.
Yelan knew how to handle hard and rough, but she was lost when it came to soft and gentle.
"Please, babe," she practically moaned out, "Aren't you-- ah.. taking longer than... than usual..?"
You pressed a kiss on a closed wound as you grazed a nipple with your thumb, "Am I? I didn't realise you timed me whenever I had you at my mercy."
Her breath hitched at the movement, "No, just.. instinct... How long are you--"
"But I haven't shown how much I love every single inch of you yet."
"I think I'd get the message if y-- ohfuck... if you got to the main event."
You sported a mock pout, your words failing to hide your teasing intent that just wants to have her squirming for you, at least for a little while, "I haven't seen you in a good while, can't you let me savour you?"
You see her gulp, her eyes half-lidded before one of her hands move to comb her hair out of the way, "You have.. you have all of me, no matter what."
..That was enough, especially after finding out that you almost lost her.
Your hand grazed her skin as it travelled down to her core, your fingers lightly swabbing the slit to get a feel of the wetness accumulating in the apex of her thighs. "You're so wet... Maybe I should treat you like a fragile little princess more often, hm?" You couldn't help the remark as you rubbed circles on her clit and gave her what she wanted, especially when she lets out such a delicious whine.
"I need.. inside... Come on, now, sweetheart, I--"
"You were doing so well..." Your minstrations slowed down, earning another whine from who was supposed to be a mature woman, "What's the magic word, hm? We've gone through this."
She doesn't hesitate, "Please put.. put your fingers in me, I've needed you for s-so-- oh my fucking-- mmnf!"
You made quick work in finding someone's discarded panties—yours or hers, you couldn't care less right now—and using it as a makeshift gag to silence your lover when you finally sink your fingers into her wet, hot pussy. "I don't know if you remember since apparently you've been here the entire time, but we're not home right now. So I suggest you try your best to stay quiet."
"That is," you continue with a raised eyebrow, keeping your hand still inside her and practically relishing in her pleading gaze, "you can keep quiet, right? I wouldn't want us to be a disturbance so if you can't, then..."
You make a point to remove your fingers at an agonising pace, its presence leaving just as soon as it came, but her hand reaches out in an effort to keep you inside. You see her shaking her head 'no', though she doesn't let out a sound.
"Good girl," and you plunge your fingers in once again as some sort of makeshift punctuation to your brief praise, to which you could feel her hips buck sharply into your hand in response.
Your lips and your unoccupied hand wandered around her body, as if making sure that she was there with you and actually alive instead of whatever worrying condition she was in. And really, if it weren't for some lucky stroke of luck, she wouldn't even be here in your arms right now.
You knew the risks of being with her but that didn't mean you liked it—the thought of losing your lover was...
"..Mm?"
You looked at her and you see a questioning yet knowingly sympathetic look in her eyes, and that's when you realise that you had unconsciously stopped moving entirely.
She moves her hand, though it isn't to remove the makeshift gag in her mouth. Rather, she moves it to softly brush her knuckles on your cheek, reassuring you of her present existence without words.
..You needed her just as much as she needed you.
With a pleasant hum, you kissed her again before moving your head down and leaving a trail of kisses in your wake. You stop at her glistening core, wet with slick and anticipating your next move from the way it squeezes down on your unmoving digits, before you descend further and give her clit a slow, tentative lick. The effect is immediate—you hear her let out a muffled gasp as her hands dart to the back of your head.
Her reactions have always been a delight to witness because of how it was always such a gamble to you; was she going to try holding it in or was she going to be so expressive that you have to keep her still? Was she going to be a good girl and follow every little thing you say or was she going to be a brat and defy you until you've broken her in? But this time it's delightful in a different way—your entire exchange is so utterly intimate and caring and reassuring for the both of you.
And the effect on her is also delightful too. Putting her hands on your head and alternating between gripping it tight and massaging your scalp as you consumed her entire being, murmuring sweetly broken-apart words of her love for you as she tries to quiet down for you, pulling you closer by wrapping her legs around your head and never letting you go while her body twitches and reacts at your every minstration... For once, she doesn't know what to do, simply laying there as a helpless pile of need and desire that's being wound up tight with care until she possibly can't anymore.
When your fingers curl up into that one specific spot as you sucked on her clit just the right way, you feel her finally snap and let go before you hear it.
It happens in such a mesmerising sequence; her breath hitches once more as her body locks in place for a mere second before she bucks her hips and shakes uncontrollably. Her hands claw on your scalp and her thighs squeeze you tighter, practically closing up any space to breathe and yet you don't care—you happily continue on with your movements and help your lover ride through her much-needed orgasm. Then that's when you hear her garbled screams, the makeshift gag in her mouth definitely not enough to contain the sound, mixed with "I love you"s and scrambled words of gratitude as she rides out her high.
It takes a while, but eventually she settles down. Yelan's grip on you softens up and you are given room to move off her and finally breathe (not as if you were complaining, in the first place). So you extract yourself from her lower body, though not without cleaning her slick up with careful licks as you slowly took your fingers out as to not overstimulate her further. You licked your own fingers clean right after with a little wink at her and you see her roll her eyes with a smile as she takes the panties out her mouth and puts them aside, the expression complimented with a blushing tint on her cheeks.
You kiss all the way back up her body until you reach her lips, and a hand goes up to cup your cheek as you share this tender moment together between you. And when your lips break apart, your body doesn't follow—instead, you lie beside her with both your limbs tangled up together and never letting go. You would have lied down on her but you didn't want to put pressure on her still-recovering body.
Neither of you speak for a little while, satisfied with simply hearing the sounds of each other's breathing. Of her breathing, an indication that she's alive and with you at this present moment. It's so easy to just.. close your eyes and fall into a comfortable slumber with your partner right here with you.
But eventually, Yelan manages to form her words, "I missed that."
You raised an eyebrow, "What, the sex?"
"Well, yes. You're a natural, sweetheart. But no, I meant being with you."
"..Me too."
...
"There is.. one more thing I want to do."
"And what's that?"
And she turns to look at you with that dazzling sea of aquamarine blanketed with a warm, loving gaze, "Rest. With you."
The smile that stretches your lips isn't enough, could never be enough, to express the happy warmth that blossomed within you, "We can do that."
You don't do it immediately; you've had to briefly extract yourself to put your own clothes back on and help Yelan with hers (despite her insistence that she can do it herself) because the least you two can do is look somewhat presentable in case someone comes in. But when you finish up and you come back to bed with her, it doesn't take all that long for peaceful exhaustion to overtake you.
The last thing you see is Yelan's live, blissful expression of happiness, something one wouldn't expect from someone in her line of work and yet there it was.
And it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
(And when you wake, you see her snoring lightly with her lips slightly apart.
And you wouldn't want to trade this—her—for anything.)
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matchesarelit · 9 months ago
Text
Imagine If You Will... Just Us (Lars Pinfield X gn!Reader)
Prompts: “I thought it was going to be just us today” from @pookie-and-cereal's list (here) AND #17, #28 and #30 from @thelonelyempath's list (here).
W.C: ~3k
Warnings: Gary gets typical 3rd wheel treatment, science flirting (it's real bad),
Coming back from Ray's, your arms were killing, turns out hiking over an hour over public transport with more than ten kilos of, for a lack of a better word, junk, was not the brightest idea. Lars had texted you late last night, gushing over the newest adaptions he'd make to the extractor; how much time was saved on every use, how low the resistance rate was etc.
So naturally, when he invited you to come in on the weekend to try it out, your reply could have broken the sound barrier, if it weren't a text that is. You weren't exactly in his realm in regards to ghostbusting science, now don't get me wrong you did ghost bust on occasion, but your main focus was on the PR end of Ghost Corps. Yes, it is a very stressful job. That being so, you weren't sure why he'd chosen to invite you, surely another scientist would be able to understand it better.
Well, who truly cares... you were getting the rare chance to witness his dorky joy and that was not something you were going to turn down.
Finally trudging in through the main doors, you let out a grievous grunt as you dropped the box of trinkets onto a nearby trolley. Tugging it along behind you as you made your way to the main lab, you waved as you always did towards the enclosed ghosts in the hallway. Finally setting sights on the elaborate workspaces of the many scientists that work crammed into the space, you allowed your smile to overtake your features, eager as always to see Lars in his natural environment.
You'd first met when you stated on the G.C PR team, you'd been eager to set up a web page for the Ghostbusters with a page profile for all involved scientists. Winston had had you meet them all here in the lab, Lars was one of the first you'd met and you'd gotten along immediately.
"Heyo! I think you're gonna have to send Ray a gift basket with the amount of stuff he gave us-" Your rattled-out greeting was cut short as your eyes fell on the pair of men huddled by one of the desks. As they turned to greet you, you felt your steps slow, the air felt dense against your movements. Lars had forced out a smile that had no hopes of reaching his eyes, while the man by his side, Gary Grooberson, seemed to be dripping in ecstatic energy as he jogged over to meet you by the steps.
As he lifted the front end of the trolley and helped you carry it down, your eyes fell back on Lars, he was once again facing away from you and he'd retreated to the large mechanical focus of your visit. His hands were busy doing, what even you could tell from across the room, was absolutely nothing.
Cutting your study short, Gary captured you in a hug, it was as it always is; warm and comforting and definitely more for him than it was for you. You had time and time again succeeded in putting a good spin on whatever ruckus his family had created, so he was by no means a new acquaintance, neither was his proclivity for hugs a surprise.
Gary's greeting however flew right past your ears, tearing your focus away from the man on the other side of the space was proving much too difficult. To your luck however, you managed a gentle greeting and casual inquiry of how his family was doing before a notable amount of time had passed.
With a conscious effort you set your eyes on Gary, resolved to focus on the conversation at hand, the man before you was a friend after all. As the conversation continued, small updates about how the Spenglers and co were doing outside of the ghost busts filled the next half hour, before the dialogue began to stall.
Until, Gary, ever the extrovert, started to rifle through the box you'd brought in,
'So, are you as excited for today as I am? It sounds like Lars has been making absolute leaps and bounds with this stuff.'
Now, you wouldn't say you were projecting your voice when you spoke up, nonetheless, it definitely wasn't a normal speaking level. 'Yeah! I can't wait to see what he's been up to...' You trailed off as you glanced towards where Lars still stood, his back to the two of you but his hands had now stilled in place, a change you all but reveled in.
Lars wasn't a guy who enjoyed being alone all to much, you'd been able to gather as such within moments of meeting him. Luckily, that first time, you'd caught him on a good day; when talking about his work, rather than doing it, was pretty much exactly what he wanted to do. He'd tried to come across as a sort of stoic and while it was clear he did enjoy the solitude, the way he interacted with his peers made it crystal clear how much he also enjoyed such conversations.
That was part of why his actions today seemed so strange... You weren't exactly his peer as a scientist, but you knew enough about ghosts and he'd shared similar achievements with you in the past, not to mention the fact that he, himself, had invited you here only last night.
As for Gary, he was a scientific man himself, so why the Lars wasn't chatting happily with him about the newest changes to the mechanism was a mystery to say the least.
You'd hate to admit it, although it wasn't hard to notice by any means, you'd obliviously thought it was just going to be the two of you. So it took some quick metal re-wiring upon realizing you wouldn't just be able to fawn so freely over the unsuspecting scientist as you often did.
In that moment you'd felt bad, noting that both of you were acting strange and that that couldn't have been too fun for Gary.
Although... you considered perhaps Lars was simply overthinking his progress, now that his audience was present. Maybe he just needed a little push to start, like one of those old timey planes.
'Lars' Your call cracked through the silence of the facility, your voice finally tugging the man in question to turn on the spot. 'Come on Science-man, show us what you've got!'
He shook his head slightly in a sort of incredulity as he turned back around, your shoulders fell slightly, but only momentarily as his voice soon bounced around the room.
'Come on then'
Your eager smile reappeared on your face as you beelined towards the large prism like container in the middle of the workplace, where he stood hitting, what you could only assume, were the start up buttons. Your eyes on him, and his eyes on the machine -with you safely in his peripherals- Gary was left to wheel over the box of supplies. His mumblings of something about third wheeling and losing his phone, all but faded to oblivion in your focus.
Stepping back from the small panel and towards yourself and Gary, Lars seemed to pause for a moment, glancing once between you and his chair that sat empty by the control screen. You brushed off the look he'd given as he began to speak, as a mutual offer between him, yourself and Gary, You'd chosen consciously however, to not plop down in it yourself.
Strangely, claiming his seat whenever he stood from it, felt like something you could only do in private, although it usually occurred when ten or so other scientists also occupied the space. You suppose, sitting there; your head in your hand, as you gawk up at him was a lot more obvious when the only other person in the room would be standing mere feet away.
Whilst you turned your own thoughts over in your head, Gary had taken the chair for himself, muttering out a cheeky, 'ya snooze ya lose'. While you were still mulling things over, Gary caught what you didn't; a flash of a glare passing over Lars' features as he paused his explanation.
Choosing to remain comfy, Gary shot the younger scientist a simple smile, before tilting his head in your direction. With one look to you, your in-your-head state was obvious and Lars was talking a step towards you, your name a whisper on his lips.
Snapping out of your thoughts, and meeting his eyes, you immediately rushed out an apology running shaky hands down your face as you promised to listen closely.
From there it was somewhat business as usual, Lars went about explaining his changes, with yourself, and Gary, asking prompting questions every once and a while. You'd resolved to simply enjoy his company as you usually would, extra company be damned. Sorry Gary.
Gaping up at him in the way you always did, you were yet again in awe of Lars. The way his eyes shone a little brighter when the machine worked perfectly and how he would always look eagerly to you a soft smile on his face. Ghost by ghoul, the three of you went about testing for a while, with Lars occasionally ducking his head towards the wiring or control panel to make some small adjustment, only to return with a beaming smile when the following test went by even faster.
Watching him work was always enjoyable. He was always either grinning like a fool or he had that small frown and furrowed brow that graced his features in a moment, usually quite brief, of struggle. All the same, even that echo of a scowl wasn't enough to diminish the glow you swore he gave off. Today was slightly different, there was no lab coat in sight, his goggles hung loosely around his neck and the top half of his jumpsuit had been tied 'round his waist. He seemed relaxed, at least if you ignored the tension that seemed to be holding his body together.
'Amazing' your murmured comment, and the countless like it, were more about him than his machine and whenever you caught his eyes with your own, you hoped he could see that. Gary, on the other hand was completely enthralled by the testing, rattling off compliments of his own with much higher frequency, mentions of the 'stellar efficiency' and 'innovative programming' which, I'm sad to say, went in one ear and out the other. Except, for when he managed to interrupt you in the midst of his enthusiasm, at which point he was met with yet another brief glare from the man of the hour.
The setting sun that bathed the three of you in warm tones of orange and yellow took you by surprise, and a quick glace to the box by your side revealed you had powered through more than three quarters of your supplies. You felt your shoulders fall considerably at this thought, now achingly aware you'd be expected to leave somewhat soon. Shocking you from your melancholy was the loud ring of Lars' phone, some 8-bit version of the Ghostbusters theme you'd set up on his phone some time ago, echoing about the space.
He hurriedly excused himself, and unwitting as usual your eyes lingered on the doorway he'd left through. Until a clambering of legs swung into your own, following them with an eyebrow raised you met Gary's stare as his own eyebrows wiggled fancifully. 'Soooo... I'm gonna get going, Callie just texted-' Catching him in a squinted glare you doubted '-didn't you say you'd lost your phone?'
'um-uh, okay so I'm just a little aware that you guys want to be alone.' His tone was anything but unsure, nevertheless he seemed hesitant to voice his concern.
'No don't go, I'm sorry I-I know I get a bit absorbed seeing him work, but he wants you here!' You'd felt horrible, you weren't aware how obvious you'd been.
'Its okay, I know you didn't mean to... Also I highly doubt Lars is all that happy about me being here.' You opened your mouth to argue but he shook his head simply as he continued. 'Winston invited me after Lars let him know he'd be here today, He didn't know until I got here and that half an hour before you arrived was tense enough.'
You supposed he was right, Lars had seemed pretty off earlier, but surely it wasn't that deep that Gary should leave. 'That's silly though, you're a scientist, if anyone is annoying him by hanging around surely its me... I mean I was asking all those inane questions.'
Your concern was met with the most well meaning, yet still a bit of a brush-off, cackle you'd heard from him, 'Except every one was met with a soft explanation and a confirmation that you understood, which wasn't exactly the response I've been getting. I doubt today was meant to be about the science as anything more than as a justification for inviting you over.'
Your brow furrowed at that, yourself and Lars had hung out before, you supposed it wasn't too frequently and it was usually a work outing where the two of you peeled off for a bit. Even so, why would he feel like he had to justify inviting you over?
'But we're friends, he knows he doesn't have to-' you stopped yourself as his footsteps reverberated through the halls, growing closer by the second.
Mid-way through turning your head to catch the doorway, Gary darted out of his chair. Stealing back your attention as he addressed yourself and you supposed lars, who you could imagine had stopped, lingering at the end of the hall at the other man's outburst. 'I've gotta get going, great seeing you guys... Good luck with the rest of the testing...' He was backing away now, towards the entryway, maneuvering around stray chairs and tables as he went. With a final flourish of a finger gun in Lars' direction, he was crossing the threshold and calling back over his shoulder. '...Not that you need it!'
You found yourself scoffing in disbelief as you continued to watch as the doors swung closed with a slam. Slowly turning on the spot you set sights on Lars. He was making his way over to you, shoulders still higher than usual, tight due to, as far as you could ascertain, the dramatic exit of the older man. Reaching out, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. As the slight weight of your hand settled on him you noted the relaxed fall of his shoulders, a sigh falling from his lips. Content with the slight ease in his demeanor you gave a slight squeeze and a hum of your own.
'So, should we get back to it?' Lars nodded, but otherwise remained completely still until you elected to remove your hand, at which point he spun on the spot and traipsed back over to the machine with a vigor that'd been notably absent all day.
Narrowing your eyes at the man in front of you, you watched as he returned to his regular As Seen On TV type demonstration. Now, with a pep in his step that you always found almost too intoxicating he placed a new object inside the chamber, closed it and started towards the computer.
'Hey, Lars? Can you level with me on something?' you hated to see how his movements stuttered to a halt at your vague interruption, but the question fell from your lips before you could think, 'Do you not like Gary?' His gaze seemed to flutter about the space, until his eyes were screwed shut, a shaky hand messing through his locks as his jaw dropped open, dancing silently in the nonexistent wind until you fixed him with pointed look and he suddenly found some words.
'I don't dislike him he's just very- He's smart it's just- its just that...' he trailed off, seemingly deciding to communicate through a jumpscare like gesture of his hands.
'He's very eager?' he nodded, glad you gotten his meaning, but he stilled when your head tilted ever so slightly.
'So am I.' With that thought your eyes had drifted from his, not shyly to the ground but dazed, as if fixed on some invisible specter only you could see. Your mind grew harsh faster than you'd care to admit, retroactively scanning every interaction with him against some intangible measure of frustration. There were surely times your presence slowed his work, distracting him with conversation or absurd what if's, not to mention the plethora of what you now realized must have been idiotic questions.
Surely he'd been speaking while you re-considered your very existence, but it wasn't until you felt the warmth of his hands on your shoulders that an ounce of sound managed to reach your brain.
'Hey, you okay there? You-you went blank on me.'
'I-um yeah -I just...' You had no clue what to say, how could you? Yeah sorry I was just thinking about how insufferable I must be to you, that came with a little spiraling as a treat.
Gathering that you'd most likely missed his in depth explanation of the difference between yourself and Gary from his perspective, Lars stepped away from you, considering the best way to dissolve the tension evident on your features. 'You and I, Us, we're not just colleagues, you don't just come to me to get new gadgets or answer some question you have... even if you do have a few. We're... something else, but when he's here its like he's extracting facts and figures, all the while you're just trying to understand me, m-my work. Its not his fault I- just I-'
'-Thought it was going to be just us today?' Cutting off his rambling you finally met his eyes. He shrugged nodding slightly as he held your gaze. 'If it makes it better?.. it is now.'
He released a bemused hmmf. 'I'll admit I wasn't the biggest fan of having to fight for your attention today. I'm pretty glad it is just the two of us again. Splitting your focus between me and my work is as much as I can handle.' Shaking your head in amusement at his sudden bluntness, you stepped towards him, a gentle hand against his chest, the eye contact mere inches long as you stood in his orbit.
'You are so oblivious... Trust me Lars there was not a moment that you weren't the nucleus of my afternoon.' A light groan was his only response to your overy-cheesy claim. 'No? what about...' you thought for a moment, tapping a finger to your chin.
'I'm much too weak to resist the gravity of your presence.' he narrowed his eyes at you own, looking for something you couldn't distinguish.
'Is that why you're in so close? My pull is too strong?' He didn't bother to cover the roll of his eyes or the teasing tone in his voice, but the smile that was paired with them was comfort enough to keep you talking.
'Mhmm You're just too enthralling Pinfield, you're gonna have to work on that if you want other people to be able to stand being around us'
Amidst all his scoffing and modest smiling, the blush that spung up across his cheeks was a sight for sore eyes, as his head lowered and he whispered into the paper thin space between you his tone even and resolute;
'Who says I'd ever want that?'
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sipitdownlikecherrysoup · 3 months ago
Text
i noticed - l.jn # 1
chapter 1. an evening dress to remember. (3.1k)
pairing: regency era gentleman! jeno x dressmaker! reader
blurb: Y/N is a popular dressmaker in regency-era london, and foolishly decides to gatecrash the first ball of the season: a masquerade. even a mask can't stop jeno from noticing that she doesn't belong.
tags: fem & she/her reader, present tense, use of Y/N, reader is paranoid, jeno is incredibly observant, i know nothing about embroidery/tailoring but i try my best, inspired by benedict's story (bridgerton).
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Your heart pounds so rapidly in your chest that it feels like it might explode, and you feel terribly sick. You worry that the insane amount of effort you’d put into this dress will be ruined with the amount you've sweat in your anxiety. 
Maybe you are making a mistake. No, you definitely are, but it's a little too late to back out now. You are already at the ball. The famed Lee Masquerade Ball. The Lee’s always have the privilege of opening the season with their extravagant masquerade, and it's a favorite among many of the high-society families you now find yourself surrounded with. 
You should be having an excellent time yourself, just like the blushing young ladies on the dance floor, and the men happily chatting alongside a tower of sparkling drinks so high that you would definitely send yourself into the cardiac arrest you’re so worried about should you attempt to take a glass for yourself. The only problem is that it's hard to have much fun when you’re worried that someone will discover that you do not belong here.
Should anybody notice that perhaps your posture is incorrect, or your manners aren't quite right, or that you do not know the correct way to formally address many of these guests, or Heaven forbid somebody recognises you as their dressmaker, you will be thrown out of London for good. You’ll lose your home, the flourishing career you have built for yourself, your whole life. 
All you had wanted was to experience what a ball was like yourself. The young ladies that frequent your store gush about them all day long. You’ve heard so many tales of the fanciful foods, the most amazing music, and mesmerizing decorations that could make you feel transported to another world. And you know nearly half of the dresses in this very room were hand designed, or even hand tailored by yourself, as well as a decent portion of the gentlemens’ clothing, too. Foolishly, selfishly, you had thought maybe you deserved to attend one of these events after all your hard work. And even if it is as magical as those young ladies made it sound, is it worth all the risk?
This is a mistake.
“If you stare at that tower much longer, you might be able to make it fall with that piercing gaze alone.” A voice shakes you out of your thoughts, making you startle. It’s soft but deep, too, and comes from much closer than you thought anybody was to where you had tried to hide yourself in a far corner of the room. 
When you turn to face the owner of the mysterious voice, your breath catches in your throat. 
Like yourself, some guests to the masquerade opt for a look that conceals their identity. Some say it's part of the fun. For you, it is a genuine disguise. 
Others opt for a simple mask that does little to hide their identity.
The thin and sleek, deep-blue mask adorning Jeno Lee’s face does nothing to disguise him, and the fact that you are speaking to one of the hosts of this prestigious event does nothing to calm your nerves. 
You had only seen him once, when he accompanied his mother to the store over a year ago and she insisted he purchase a new pair of silk-white gloves. Startlingly, you realize he is wearing them right now. 
It must amuse Jeno, the way you stare at him, slack-jawed and wordless and dumb, if the way he smiles gently at you has anything to say about it.
“Did you want one?” He asks you, politely. 
“I Want… One?” Is all you manage to speak brokenly
He blinks at you, a faint smile gracing his lips again. “A drink. From the tower. I can fetch one for you if you wish.” 
You spy an opportunity to escape, to send him on his way and dart out of this far-too-big house, to run all the way back to your cozy apartment above the shop and forget this ever happened, so you nod and try your best to match his niceties, “If you would, please, I would be grateful.”
You know something you said was wrong from the way his eyebrows crease ever so slightly but he doesn't call you out on it. He must be too polite.
“Very well.” He turns to approach the drink tower in question before pausing, swiveling on his heels to look at you again, “I apologize. I didn't get your name, Miss…?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly. 
Your brain short circuits. You swear you can feel it pouring from your ears as you fumble wildly for a response. Your name— No! Not your name! Any name but your name.
“Miss… Throckbottom!” You squeak out, only to internally wince when your words reach your ears. Somehow, you have mixed up the worst aspects of two of your clients surnames. Lord Throckmorton, and Lady Oakenbottom. Curiously, it sounds a lot like ‘rock bottom’ and that is exactly how you feel right now. 
Still, Jeno has that stupid, and yet incredibly endearing, amused but polite smile. His eyes crinkle this time, too, so you know you’ve really humored him. You worry that he will question you, or that he knows but he only happily replies, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Throckbottom.” 
The moment he turns away from you, the escape plan begins. Your eyes dart around the room to locate the nearest exit and then you break for it. In your haste, you try to exit a different way than you entered and get utterly lost in a maze of hallways that seem to stretch on forever. 
As you race around the corridors, finding several rooms that seem only to be filled with different types of chairs, multiple locked doors, and a large hall that surely rivaled even the finest art galleries with the collection adorning it's walls, you panic about how deep into this mansion you now are. If you are caught so far away from where you should be, you will be all the more suspicious. And what if you are assumed to be a thief?! Forget being banished from London, you would be thrown straight to the execution block! 
Looping back around on yourself, you barely have any air left in your burning lungs when you make it back to the ballroom, but you are rewarded with a hopeful glimpse of your way out. You try your best to casually make your way across the entire ballroom, sticking to the far edges and drawing as little attention to yourself as possible. Your heart aches when you pass by a tray of sweets unlike any you had ever seen, but you could not risk stopping to try them. Not when you were so close to getting out. 
Finally, you reach the door, but just as you are about to duck and run, a hand catches yours to gently pull you indoors before it lets go. It’s firm and yet much gentler than you would have assumed given that whoever had grabbed you surely wants you arrested or put to death. 
“There you are, Miss…” 
He snuck up on you again. Just who is Mister Lee that he has the ability to go entirely undetected by your senses!? What kind of training does he have? Does he know that you were running about his house like a headless chicken just minutes ago? Has he been following you undetected the whole time? 
Despite your thoughts getting away from you, you muster the strength to turn and face Jeno, planning on at least attempting to defend yourself. You are shocked still by the careful concern written across his face, and dancing in his eyes, entirely unhidden by the flimsy mask he wears. He looks worried, terribly so, about you, you realize. As if he’s aware of the dangerous situation that you have gotten yourself into.
But he can’t be. Not when he says, “Are you unchaperoned, Miss? Surely you should not be. I was surprised when you had vanished.” 
Of course. This is the polite gentleman you had been speaking to, after all. He would be worried about the safety and honor of any lady. It doesn't have anything to do with you in particular.
You shake your head quickly, trying your best to lie your way out of this, “No, my mama is somewhere around here. I only wanted some fresh air, but I forgot myself. It would not do well to leave alone, thank you for the reminder.”
You spot the drink in his hand, the one you had requested, or rather the one he had asked you if you wanted. He had been carrying it around dutifully, then. 
“Perhaps a drink will cool my nerves, actually.” You add, trying your best to come up with a convincing story, “I apologize for leaving so suddenly. This is my first ball and I am rather nervous.”
Jeno passes you the drink, but you don't miss the inquisitive look in his expression, like once again you’ve said something wrong. This time, he does not ignore your mistake. 
“Ah, this is your debut season? You are… somewhat older than the usual debutante, but I can appreciate that it is likely still nerve wracking.” 
Shit. You had thought it would be good cover to play the clueless debutante. It would explain your lack of manners, and your nerves, but you were not sixteen, nor seventeen, nor even eighteen, but twenty-three! You’re not sure whether to be upset or not that he can tell your age from behind your mask. 
You panic, totally blanking, before digging yourself deeper into the hole of lies, “W-well! You see, my family is not… so… wealthy, at the moment, and we have had to save for my dowry… so…” You give up talking and then down the drink, far too quickly, almost choking on the slight burn of the alcohol. You had not realized it would have strong liquor in it. 
Jeno watches you closely, just as he has been the entire time you’ve been speaking to him. Again, he appears endeared, presumably by the way you just threw back your drink, and then he looks as though he has an idea.
“Would you like to share a dance?” 
He looks so genuine as he asks you, like maybe he truly does wish to dance with you. You cannot think of a single reason why. Perhaps he is trying to help you appear more desirable, then? He really is kind. 
“Yes.” 
No. What are you doing? Why did you agree? 
You don't have time to think about that because a pleased-looking Jeno is already leading you towards the floor, and somehow he is perfectly timed with the beginning of the next song. A song that you have no idea how to dance to. You don't know how to dance to any song!
Jeno takes one of your hands into his, and then places the other onto your waist. Thankfully, this appears to be a slow dance rather than anything too complicated. You quickly respond by resting your free hand on his shoulder, and then try your best to follow his lead as the dance starts. 
It's evident almost immediately that you have no idea what you're doing. You’re staring down at your feet instead of looking at him. Even with such simple steps, you’re treading on his feet and messing up the timing. Your eyes snap up to his face worriedly, but there isn't any judgment. Instead, Jeno simply looks contemplative before he leans closer to ask you a question in a hushed voice, “Have you never danced before?” 
Your head is spinning. He’s so close. You’ve never been this close to a man before, not even when tailoring their suit jackets to perfectly fit their arms— and goodness, does Jeno’s jacket fit him well. You are almost mad that you didn't get to tailor it yourself. 
It’s almost a relief that Jeno doesn't seem to require an answer to his question, unbothered that you stare dumbly at him once again, because he certainly already knows the answer. The hand resting at the side of your waist shifts, curling around your lower back, and then he pulls you closer still. He smells faintly of cedarwood and orange blossom and it nearly sends you into a frenzy because why is it so good? You think whatever he is doing to your mind, the way he is hypnotizing you, has tricked you into feeling that you are floating. 
Until you realize that your feet are not on the ground. Jeno is lifting you, with the strength of only one arm, so that you are just barely hovering from the ground. The skirts of your dress are long enough that they still touch the ground, concealing the fact that Jeno is all but puppeteering you into the perfect dancer. 
You must look shocked because Jeno whispers to confirm that you are alright with this before you quickly school your expression back to neutrality and nod. 
It's far too fun dancing with him like this, or just being spun around given that it's very little work for your part. It doesn't look like it's any effort for Jeno either, somehow. How crazy is this guy's core strength, anyways? It wasn't too typical for a gentleman to be that strong, because why would they need to be?
There is a subtle mirth dancing in his eyes when he continues prodding at your facade, “It is strange to neglect to teach a debutante to dance when that is the prime tactic for capturing a suitor.” 
Call you crazy but you might even think that Jeno is having fun, too. At your expense. 
“We could not afford dance lessons.” You grasp onto that same excuse from earlier, hoping he will let it go.
“Ah, then you must have been planning to charm a suitor some other way.” Jeno muses, and he’s still giving you that soft smile that makes you want to just melt, “From what I have seen, you do not seem to be conversationally gifted either, perhaps you have other talents?”
You have half a mind to scowl at him but manage to refrain. It would be too risky to claim being talented in areas you're unable to talk about, especially when you’ve painstakingly learned how curious Jeno is. You know nothing of pianoforte or watercolors, but embroidery you know.
“Needlework.” You say, before remembering to expand on the subject, “It is my greatest passion. I am never prouder of myself than when I am able to create a unique pattern.”
Unfortunately, you find it hard to stop yourself from rambling too much. 
“The pattern on my gloves, for example, uses multiple types of stitching to create what looks like drooping wisteria. Mostly the herringbone stitch and the continental knot stand out, hm, but the humble chain stitch should not go unforgotten. It is a classic.” 
Jeno appears to look at your gloves with an incredible intensity that almost makes you clam up self-consciously before he begins his praise, “It is fine work. Your modiste could be jealous.”
You tried to hide your nervous laughter behind a smile, feeling warm from his compliments, but dying inside at the ironic image of feeling jealousy towards yourself. 
The conversation lulls, but it's a comfortable silence you find yourself in whilst your eyes drift to take in the scenery of the ballroom again. 
You catch a glare from a short, pretty-looking lady and immediately you tense up. It's not just her, the woman next to her is glaring too, and you recognise her as one of your customers, wearing a dress you’d finished laboring over just days ago. You quickly scan the room to find that there are hardly any ladies not giving you some form of nasty look, and there are plenty of gentlemen looking your way as well. 
But of course the ladies are giving you such evil looks. You are dancing with Mister Lee, arguably the most desirable bachelor in the ton, perhaps only aside from his titled brother, though maybe still preferable based on the way you had seen debutantes fawn over his ‘handsome visage, kind eyes, and kinder still personality’ many a time while taking their measurements. The man that holds the supposed unofficial record for highest number of ladies trying to faint on him at a single event, as rumor has it, was still looking only at you. The Jeno Lee that many mothers had scorned whilst waiting for their daughters to finish trying their new gowns on for the fact that he has yet to announce his intention to marry is ever so close to you. The very Jeno that currently has an arm tightly wrapped around you is renowned for putting off his need to marry because he would much rather spend his time at home than at high society parties, so of course the fact that you are taking up so much of his time makes you the target of every unwed lady from here to… The rest of England! 
You feel dizzy from all of the attention, from how you can feel the hundreds of pairs of eyes glued to you. 
You need to leave. As soon as this dance is over. As soon as he lets you back onto the ground.
Almost as if you had pleaded hard enough to the Gods, the dance ends just as you will it to. Jeno finally lets you go. He’s wordless, but again there's something questioning in his eyes that you ignore. You offer your best, and yet definitely still shoddy, curtsey to Jeno and immediately hightail it back towards the main door. 
You have no idea what possesses you but you turn your head back for one last look, unable to stop yourself, to see that Jeno is standing stock still in the middle of the dance floor, watching you leave. His gaze does not falter, it almost burns into you. He makes no move to follow you this time, in fact, he makes no move at all, much to the confusion of the other attendees that watch him linger alone in the dancefloor even after it has been abandoned by everyone else. He just watches you, and then everybody else does as well. That seems to snap him from his daze, and then he’s walking away from the floor but you don't bother to look long enough to find out where to. 
You focus back on your escape, near running now and it isn't long before you are through the door. 
You do not stop running, and you do not look back again.
---
author's note:
thank you so much for reading <3. this is the first time i've published on this blog, so i hope it's well-received. i can make a taglist going forward if anybody is interested, and please stay tuned for part 2! i have at least 8 parts planned overall :). thanks very much to cherry for proofreading this for me <33. - soup
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