#where i slept on the floor while people danced around me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivwritesfics · 7 months ago

Note

Okay oak

So soulmate x driver

So it is lime two people being fated to always just miss or die? Kibda just before they meet each other

You can make it happy or not

Thinking max, carlos or charles/logan

🫶🫶

Lobe xoz

Please never stop being you 💓

I took this in a veeeeeeeery different direction sort of but also not

Warnings: Death, reader dies, max dies (a couple of times, actually), racing related death, murder and stabbing, shooting, sad but not really

Past lives. Some people believed in them, some people believed that this wasn't their first go around.

Max Verstappen knew it wasn't. Well, he didn't know it right away. In fact, the concept of a past life was something he wasn't familiar with growing up. That wasn't the sort of nonsense his father would entertain.

But then Max laid eyes on her.

He knew her. They hadn't met before, but he knew her. How on earth did he know her? He hadn't seen her face online, through his phone screen, but she was so damn familiar.

She was Charles's girlfriend. She was just a girl from Monaco that one of his best friends was now dating. But that wasn't how Max knew her, because this was the weekend they were taking to go public.

The way he was looking at her was creepy, incredibly so. Everybody that caught him staring at Charles's new girlfriend thought so, and somebody had to pull him up on it.

The problem was that Max didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know he was staring at her, too lost in his thoughts because where the hell did he know her from? He wasn't looking at her with lust on his face, more confusion than anything else.

Max had a dream that night. It was incredibly weird to be dreaming of somebody else while you old lady girlfriend slept beside you. (I'll be honest it was a real tragedy that Kelly attended that race weekend).

In this dream, Max wasn't Max. He didn't know his name, but he knew he was somebody else. The fact that he was in a horse drawn carriage should have given indication that his dream wasn't set it modern day.

"A ball, papa? Really?" Max was supposed to be a perpetual bachelor, he knew. He'd marry when he had to, when he needed an heir. But his father wanted him at this ball, wanted him there to watch out for his sister. Max hated it.

He'd have some friends at the ball, he knew, there to find themselves wives. He'd be there to glare at any man who thought himself a good enough match for his sister. Max would be the judge of that.

The ball was incredibly boring. He stood, talking to lords and other sons of lords. He spoke to hungry mamas that wanted to secure him as a good match for their daughters. He tried to be charming, he really did, but they were making it so damn hard.

But then she walked into the ball.

Max had been mid sip of his drink and was damn near ready to spit it out. He knew her brother, knew her mama, but had never met her before. God, she really was something else. Everything in the room seemed to dull in her presence.

This was the first time he had seen her, that was for sure.

Finishing his drink, Max started forward. Every man in the room would want to be on her dance card, he knew. He just had to hope that he'd get there first.

Another lord took her hand and danced across the floor with her. A dissatisfied noise left his lips as he watched them. He'd never been a very patient man, this was truly a test for him.

When the dance finished, she gave a polite bow and walked to find her mama or her brother.

Max intercepted her search. He gave his name and, with a bow, she gave her own. "So," he said, mouth running dry as he took her hand and the dance began. "Tell me about yourself."

She rattled off a list of accomplishments, things every young lady had been taught to do since birth. The pianoforte and embroidery. How many times had Max heard those two since he walked into the ball?

"That's not what I meant," he said with something of a laugh. "Tell me about yourself. You, the things you enjoy doing. Not the things your mama has had you doing since birth."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Well, my lord, I enjoy dancing. Not like this, but full body moving. This is dainty and graceful, the dancing I enjoy is loud and expressive."

"It sounds impressive," he replied as they moved across the dance floor. He hadn't looked around since their dance began, but he knew that they were the two most sought after people in the room. And they were dancing together. It was like some cosmic joke, and he was the one laughing. "Do you think I could see it one day?"

Her eyes were bright, smile wide the moment the words left his lips. "I'm not sure, my lord. It wouldn't be very proper."

"I've never been one for propriety," he whispered in her ear.

She gasped, but she wasn't disgusted with him. Her eyes were sparkling and she looked as though she wanted to pull him outside, to show him how little she cared for propriety, too.

Suddenly, the doors were thrown open. The music stopped and everybody in the room whipped their head towards the door. There stood a man. Max didn't know him, and he knew almost everybody. But not this man, clothes a mess and expression crazed.

"Gregory," the girl dancing with him gasped.

The crazed man by the door narrowed his eyes at her. "My love!" He howled and marched towards them.

"What's going on?" Max tried to whisper to her, but she hid herself behind him.

Her hands shook as she gripped his arm. "He's crazy," she whispered back. "H-he wants me to be his wife! He hasn't courted me, he hasn't spoken to my mama or my brother. He has just declared that I'm the one he's going to marry."

When Gregory got close enough, Max placed his hand on his shoulder, holding him back. "My good sir," he said, trying to maintain polite. But she was trembling too much for him to stay composed. This man had an incredibly punchable face, he realised. "I'd advise you to leave the young lady alone."

Gregory let out another crazed howl. Before Max could push him away, there was a stinging pain in his chest. Gregory pulled his hand away from his chest and Max looked at where the man had just touched him.

The beautiful hilt of a knife was sticking out of his chest, red pooling around it and staining his shirt. "Oh," was all he could say before he dropped to the floor.

The screams started up almost instantly, but whoever Max had been was dead. He watched on, though, a ghostly figure watching as Gregory tried to drag her away.

"Come, my love," he commanded, but she pushed against him.

"No," she cried, desperately searching for help. But everybody was too afraid to move. What would Gregory do next? Surely he'd try to kill anybody that stood in his way.

"Darling, stop being so dramatic," he said and pulled her across the dance hall.

The first person to move was her brother. He produced a weapon, a gun that her certainly shouldn't have been carrying. But if Gregory had made himself a known problem, Max didn't blame him for carrying the gun.

But the shot didn't hit Gregory. It would have, if Gregory hadn't pulled her behind him. No, the bullet went through her back, and she dropped like a stone.

Max woke up with a start. He'd never thought about having a past life before, but this had been so real. It couldn't have been anything but.

He didn't know that, in another hotel room, Charles's girlfriend was having the same dream that he was. She dreamt of her own death, and that had terrified her enough to wake her up.

She hated that she was dreaming of the Red Bull driver, not when her boyfriend was sleeping beside her. She didn't even know Max. She'd heard of him, sure, but why was she dreaming of him?

The next day was the first time she met Max Verstappen. Well, the first time in this lifetime. Charles had introduced them, and they tried to act like they hadn't just dreamt about each other.

All they were allowed was one single meeting. A quick handshake and fate decided that they'd had enough. But it seemed to go this way in every lifetime for the two of them.

It was quite sad, wasn't it? That they never survived for much longer past their first meeting.

For Max, there was a crash. He was upside down and in the wall, unable to respond. The marshals and medical staff got him out of the car and into the ambulance, but it wasn't looking good.

It had been a freak accident, as well. No other cars were near him as he just... went. The red flag was brought out and Max was taken to the hospital.

Three hours later and he was dead. He was dead, but he was still there. Once again, he was a ghostly figure, watching her. He realised it then, the fucked up version of soulmates that they were. Only supposed to be together in death.

Her death was a medical mystery. Max watched on as she just... went. Charles was pushing on her chest, desperately calling an ambulance, but she was already gone.

He looked up as a second ghostly figure appeared. "Hey," he said.

She said his name. Not just Max, but every name he had ever gone by. When he was a pirate and she was the siren that lured him to his death. When he was fighting in the war and she was treating his wounds. When he was a lord and she a lady.

"Do you want to show me how you dance?" He asked, moving closer.

"That wouldn't be very proper," he replied.

The world kept moving without them. For now, until their next go around started, they were frozen in time.

"I've never been one for propriety."

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chimivx · 2 months ago

Text

gimme gimme gimme -> mingi x fem!reader -> nice for what

Friends have graduated, board positions have changed, relationships are brand new and ever changing, but you and Mingi… You don’t change. Which to some should be a comfort, peace of mind knowing your partner is right by your side, always there for you especially in your times of need… You can’t figure out why you don’t feel the same.

wc: 8.4k warnings: 18+, sexual content and alcohol consumption in every part, infidelity themes... if i missed anything please let me know! posted: 12/8/24 3;50 pm est.

masterlist ~ next part ->

june.

Disgusted.

Betrayed.

No, disrespected.

No. God, what was it?

Arms folding over your denim strapless crop top, you abruptly faced the round table covered in an embroidered dark blue cloth. K.Y. was stitched along the edges lined with a lighter blue silk. Other tablecloths had Dr. Kang in their silk, or Nasara University Graduate. Outside, beneath a massive white tent fit for a royal wedding, the warm summer air blew through the crowd of people on the dance floor in the center of it all, and over the heads stuck in white wooden chairs at their tables, like you, too… something… to dance.

Too annoyed.

No, that was a weak argument.

Too… frustrated to get up and frolic around your friends smiling and laughing, the group having the best time celebrating their graduate, Yeosang.

Everyone was in attendance. Aurora and Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Soul, your boyfriend Mingi, Yuna, Ryujin, and all other faces from ATZ and ITZ alike. Ones Yeosang approved of. Hongjoong was here, hiding behind Jongho somewhere no doubt, if the upcoming Nasara Junior wasn’t clinging onto Yuna. San spun around the floor in circles making his rounds beneath the tent ensuring at least three people were contenders to take home, and somewhere along the back of the crowds, sticking close to some of the newer ATZ boys, was Yunho.

The boy tried to hide, tried to stay low on the radar, but Aurora sniffed him out. She had tabs on him at all times, every minute, every hour, she knew where he was. That boundary she set in place with him back in October, it still stood true, and he hadn’t broken it. He would speak to her only when she spoke to him, but even then each moment was few and far between. It didn’t stop his lovesick eyes from latching to her while Wooyoung twirled her in his arms, attempting to leech any of the feeling dripping off of the couple that still wasn’t officially a couple.

Disgusted.

Now it felt appropriate to use.

Their bond, one clearly meant to be whether they were a couple or not, had started to fill you with frustration at some point, a type of anger you couldn’t place as anger until winter break rolled around. Vacationing with Mingi and his family for two weeks you kept up with Aurora and her life, staying as close to her as you possibly could while on the other side of the country on an island off the coast of Paix. As her best friend, and her yours, she sent you daily updates of her life and her lovelife. She and Wooyoung weren’t dating, but they were hooking up, they were going on dates, they did all things couples do. Clearly in the honeymoon phase, the way she’d smile through the phone while she spoke about him sparked your many questions as to why they won’t just pull the trigger and make it official.

She had the same response each time. A smack of her lips against her teeth, a measly shrug, and a mumble of, ��I dunno.”

To make matters worse, it seemed Wooyoung had the same reaction as well. Half a shrug and a funny face, it’d been Mingi confirmed, the boy you slept next to for two weeks straight in a bed fit for four, sometimes with him all the way on the other end snoring away at some point in the night while you laid awake and listened to Aurora’s whispers of her newfound, exceptional, most amazing, beautifully soul tied, passionate, hot and heavy romance she and Wooyoung had discovered.

She never described it that way, that’s just how it sounded to you in your head.

Most nights during that vacation you’d hung up the phone and glanced to your right at the stretch of a boy snoozing away half naked beneath the sheets. Blonde tipped hair with melty chocolate roots, he was always gorgeous, but it sparked a different feeling within you those two weeks and the months to follow.

All the way to today.

Tonight.

Dressed similarly to you, by your request, a denim style button down and black pants strapped to his rail thin waist with a belt, Mingi sat backward in a chair beside you. His ring adorned hands rested on his thighs, tapping to the beat of the song that flooded the air beneath the tent. His head bobbed along too, the blonde brushing his forehead where he had it parted to the side, pushed back onto his head. Gazing out at the dance floor, at his friends chanting along to the song that’d play within the walls of the fraternity, he unconsciously released a sigh, one you couldn’t hear, but feel.

“Just go dance if you want to,” you spat without giving him a look. Leaning forward you rested your elbows on the soft cotton of the tablecloth and reached for your glass of champagne. You weren’t sure how many you’ve had so far.

Mingi turned his chin toward you, an eyebrow raised in pure question, his eyes reading the same. “Hm?” he hummed, leaning toward you. Watching you knock back the rest of your flute, he held out a hand to take it, but you slammed it to the table instead. “Do you wa-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, tipping your chin backward, eyes squeezing shut. “I said go dance if you want to!”

The bass of the music tickled your skin as the sound in the speakers shifted into that of a rapper that the crowd approved of. It was slower, the rhythm sultry and smooth, a familiar sound your body had been conditioned to know. You didn’t even want to look at him, you knew what face he’d be wearing. He’s had you on your back many times to this song.

“Tori,” Mingi said with no strong voice inflictions detected. Looking at him, a grimace on your face, the softest smile on his, you felt your heart twinge. “I was only asking if you wanted another drink.”

“Oh,” you breathed. Flickering your eyes around, at him, at the table, at your empty glass, you said, “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

He took your glass and hurried off with nothing more than the small smile he wore.

Behind his large frame that blocked half of the dance floor from your sight, removing his presence meant unveiling another frustration. Or, rather just one, the same one, Aurora and her lovelife, but it’d been doubled and shoved back into your face.

Dancing, eyes half closed, heavy as she twirled and spun and let the music move her about, she no longer stood within Wooyoung’s arms, but instead anothers. Wooyoung remained by her side, singing, dancing, but he didn’t hold her. He watched her. Shaggy blonde hair, baggy black clothes, pale creamy skin, big black eyes. He wore a smile, Soul did, while his arms hung around her waist, his hands toying with the swishy black fabric of the sundress every so often when her moves would allow it.

Over the course of that vacation you took with Mingi, when Aurora would spend time with Wooyoung, there was one day for every two spent with him that Soul would tag along. That Soul would be involved. That Soul was coming with. That Soul would nudge against her cheek with his own, pushing her out of the Facetime frame, shirtless with messy hair and a dopey smile. Within seconds of him taking over a call you’d be forced to stare at Wooyoung’s ceiling as the phone dropped to his bed and the three of them bickered over nothing, laughed, then bickered some more until Aurora would pick the phone up and bid you goodnight.

It wasn’t something they shared with everyone else, but you knew. It took her some time to tell you, to admit it, but she said the words at ATZ’s New Years Eve party. Drunk, lounging on the leather couches while the boys played through the annual pong championship they created themselves, she whispered the words when Soul swung by to refill her cup for her.

“Have you ever had a threesome before?”

With a shake of your head she set off and spewed every little detail of her winter break adventures, most of which you already knew of. They weren’t dating, her and Wooyoung, but there was an unspoken thing between them that meant they belonged to one another. Kind of like how you and Mingi started out. Aurora and Wooyoung weren’t together, for whatever reason the two of them only know, but you supposed it left some wiggle room, some grey area open for them to be able to pull Soul into the bedroom with them.

So much time between the three of them was spent at Wooyoungs in Delo. Weekends, sneaky nights after group dinners, after ATZ parties for the remainder of the year. The three of them were hooked. They were experts at keeping it on the downlow most times in public, but they were insufferable.

Disgusted.

At first you couldn’t pinpoint why. That anger, that frustration that soon settled into rage as the months flew by to graduation where you all came together to support Yeosang and Ryujin as they crossed the stage in Iloa at the Lions Stadium in the gorgeous May sunshine. Isla and Vernon came to the ceremony and dinner afterwards, reconnecting with faces they hadn’t seen in a while. Neither of them were able to come to the party to everyone's dismay, the team was traveling south this week for games, the Lions princess getting some much needed tropical time, or so she’s mentioned a trillion times with a thousand devil emoji’s.

After a media blow up of Isla, her name and her life, she’d been finally able to wriggle free of some imaginary restraints put over her, and she was living her life for her. The way she’d always intended. Sober for two and a half months now, she kept the group chat updated with each passing week, she’d begun paving her own path in the sports world, trying to build and create her own empire of women like herself that have struggled with addiction, self-discipline, empowering them to take control of their lives and their futures.

Her follower count has breached a million, growing every single day. Without the help of her brother. Without the help of Vernon, her boyfriend, the two finally together after years of pretending there wasn’t anything between them. Isla was happy, finally, and she deserved it.

But, you missed her.

Now with Aurora mixed up between two boys who were the greatest sex of her life-

“Even Yunho?”

“Y-yes, even him. Shut up.”

Aurora had two boys. Yuna had Jongho, the two in a talking-hook up phase that’d slowly been turning into a let’s dress up and go out to dinner phase as of late. Ryujin, freshly graduated, met a girl at her internship at the end of the semester, in May. It hasn’t even been a month and the two were already looking at apartments in Iloa together.

Everyone had brand new exciting things happening for them, happening to them, and it filled you with a cold dread that, now that it was June, had turned into resentment for every single one of them. Even the sweet boy who brought you a sparkling champagne glass filled to the brim with bubbles. With a smile he popped it into your outstretched hand and manicured fingers. His eyes, deep brown, filled with a pureness he’s had since day one, since the moment you two exchanged names on the front lawn of ATZ, heads tipping back in identical shrieks gathering attention all because you shared a last name.

He was your one and only, the love of your life. He matched you, mirrored you in every single way, shape and form. He’s seen every side of you, Mingi has, and he’s never judged you for any of them. Hungover and grumpy, he’s been there to take care of you. Silly, a bout of the zoomies, he’s there to laugh with you and catch you when you crash. Overwhelmed, feeling as though you can’t work anything out, figure anything out, especially since taking the Vice President position your best friend offered you, Mingi’s been there to talk things out with, to create plans, and sort through work.

He’s that cheesy shit authors publish… Your sun, your moon and all your stars. You didn’t believe it until you met him, until he caught you every single time you fell and aided you back to your feet. His friends will joke that he’s down bad, and a simp, but he didn’t give two shits. He loved you, and you loved him.

You loved him undeniably so that it gutted you to even admit to yourself that you wanted more.

You craved more.

You yearned for something fresh, something new, something to give you that rush, the feeling of the chase. Going on year three with Mingi, you knew everything. You’ve learned everything. The two of you have pretty much tried everything too.

For three years you’ve been able to tell him every thought that flowed through your head, from how pretty the moon looked to how fucked up it was that your parents missed parents weekend again for the second year in a row because of your younger sister. How the hell were you supposed to articulate to him, the biggest softie in ATZ, that nothing about your relationship excited you anymore?

“What’s the matter, Tor?” he asked you, sitting on the edge of his seat facing you. Watching your glossy lips sip the bubbles and look out toward the dance floor, he sighed, but this time you could hear it. “You’ve been on edge since yesterday, and it’s two weeks too early, so… Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” you said, swishing your glass before downing another gulp. Lifting the glass toward him you flashed him a sarcastic smile. “But thanks for the reminder I’ll get my period on vacation.”

“Is it that?” He shoved his hands between his thighs, his eyebrows furrowed above his sappy eyes. This is what Mingi liked to do. Analyze you. Pick you apart. Solve the problem. In the past, without this nagging living beneath your skin, you’d appreciated it and looked forward to it, knowing he was there to lean on, to give all your problems to. Now, it made you want to smash your champagne flute onto the ground. “All of us going to Haos? We’ve been packed, we’re good. I have our plane tickets, we know what’s going down, we’re going to be okay.”

Haos. Your fabulous beach vacation you were taking for a month with a select few beneath this tent. A select few you have ample problems with. One sided problems. At the beginning of May it was decided you’d vacation in Haos with your friends, stay there for thirty days, all of you in one house just big enough for six of you. The beach town lured Nasara students in, so the rest of your friend group would be headed down there to stay close by but thankfully not in the same house. You were set up to be surrounded by more of the same.

The same fun people, the same drunken memories made, hanging onto the same safe, secure Mingi like you have been for years.

“Of course we’re gonna be okay,” you mumbled, sipping your drink.

He smiled, all teeth. “We will be, I promise you.”

Assuming he solved it, he cracked the code, Mingi redirected his attention to the dance floor and his friends, Aurora now back in Wooyoung's arms, hanging onto his front and his black t-shirt. The three of them matched, Ror, Wooyoung, and Soul.

Gross.

You took a peek at Mingi and his threads.

Damn it.

Hands latched onto your back, acrylic fingernails grabbing onto your shoulders, pink glossy lips coming close to your ear. “Um, Jongho bought me something.”

Glancing over your shoulder at Yuna’s wide, bright eyes, you tried to smile. “What’d he get you?”

She shrugged, flipping her chocolate hair over her shoulder as she took the seat beside you. “No idea,” she laughed, scooting her chair closer to you. “He said he’ll give it to me when we’re in Haos.” Her eyes scanned over the table and the empty glasses over it. “Lost my drink,” she muttered.

“Here comes Jongho,” you breathed, eyeing the massive boy as he left the dance floor, his black hair fluffed and pushed over his forehead and sharp eyes. “I’m sure he’ll get you another one.” Mingi held out a hand for his brother to slap, then looked over at you, the two of you sharing a few seconds before you twisted to face Yuna who melted into her boy's arms when he wrapped them around her shoulders.

“You guys are leaving tonight, right?” Yuna asked, a big ass smile on her face. Jongho looked between you and Mingi before he pressed a few kisses to her cheesy cheeks.

Swallowing your cringe, wanting to reach out and rip them apart, you nodded and pushed your hair behind your back to show off more skin and the M around your neck on a gold chain. Your boyfriend sipped his drink and smiled at his friends. He didn’t look at you like you wanted him to.

“We’ll be on a plane in a few hours,” he said.

Yuna glanced to the dance floor, then to you. “Those three are going with you, right?” With a roll of your eyes, knowing which three she was talking about, you nodded again. “What goes on? Aren’t Wooyoung and Ror together? What’s the deal with Soul?”

One measly glance toward the trio grinding on one another like they weren’t surrounded by all of Yeosang’s friends and family, you turned to Yuna and said, “They fuck.”

Mingi sprung forward in his seat, his hands slapping to the table as his eyes shot open. “What!?” Both Yuna and Jongho’s jaws flew open, the pair clutching one another like you shot their mother.

Sipping your champagne, you averted your gaze and laughed to yourself. “Oops.” You wouldn’t have said it if you weren’t tipsy or annoyed beyond belief. They were making it too obvious anyway, anyone with eyes who looked at them right now would be able to tell they knew each other too well. Looking their way, your stomach churned. They were headed toward their table, your table. “Well, shit.”

Wooyoung, with Aurora behind him, the two hand in hand with Soul on their heels, snuck around chairs and people alike, still rocking along to the music. Circling around the table, Aurora singing along to the song with the blonde boy behind her, Wooyoung eyed each and every one of you, his once happy eyes now struck with curiosity. Aurora flopped down into a chair across from you, not sparing you a glance as she leaned toward Soul who sat beside her sideways to face her, his elbow finding its way onto the table. Like they had a secret to share, endless whispers to exchange, the two spoke a mile a minute, Aurora’s hands flying like they did when she was drinking.

“Everybody okay?” Wooyoung spoke slowly at first, still standing beside his not-girlfriend who reached out to toy with Souls necklace hanging over his shirt. Yuna watched her sister, Jongho stared at Soul, Mingi didn’t know where to look. Wooyoung took them all in, then focused on you, hoping you’d give him an answer as to why everyone seemed like they were trying to work out who would go where in their heads.

Jongho stood up straight, let go of his girlfriend, and stepped over to Wooyoung’s side holding out a hand for him to take. Hesitating at first, brows plummeting under his waves, he placed his hand in Jongho's and let him shake it.

“Jongho!” Yuna exclaimed, bouncing in her seat, acquiring Aurora and Souls attention.

Jongho took his hand back and shrugged toward her. “Can’t help it,” he said, then floated by her side to kiss her cheek. “Going to get you another drink.”

“What happened?” Aurora asked.

Wooyoung glanced at her and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, sitting down in his chair. “What happened?” Yuna, looking between the three of them, lips parted while her mind worked, she couldn’t give them an answer.

“They’re mad we’re leaving tonight and they have to wait a few days,” you said, getting a look from Mingi. You didn’t like how it felt, so you gave one back to him. He nearly snapped his neck focusing back on the table in front of him.

“Ohhh-kay,” Aurora sang, observing how Mingi moved, asking you a question with her eyes when they met yours. Ignoring her, you focused on the rest of your champagne.

Soul pushed his chair back abruptly, jumping to his feet. “Who needs a drink?”

“Not you,” Wooyoung said, voice stern as he looked up at the boy.

Yuna, now leaning onto the table, still studying the trio, was quick to ask, “Why not?”

Both Wooyoung and Soul shot her a look, the timing impeccable it almost made you laugh.

“Because,” Wooyoung said matter-of-factly, “He’s had his tongue down San’s throat twice, if he has anymore to drink he’s gonna end up going home with him.” Turning to speak to Aurora, Yuna’s question pulled him back quicker than the previous one.

“Jealous?”

“What?” His eyes narrowed. Yuna started to laugh, Wooyoung did not know what to do. “What did you just say to me?”

Aurora threw an arm over one of his, pushing him backward in his chair. “Leave it,” she muttered as if she were talking to a dog. Squinting across the table, watching the way he calmed down in an instant, the way he looked at her, listened to her, seemed to adore her, you couldn’t help the way your lip curled. “God damn, I wanna be on a beach!”

Soul, who had flopped back down beside her, let out a laugh, his being leaning toward hers. “A beach!” he mimicked, laughing with her. Wooyoung’s expression went unchanged, even as he watched the two fall into one another, their giggles sounding over the music playing throughout the tent.

“What the fuck,” Yuna said under her breath with a slight widening of her eyes, looking at you.

Pressing your lips together, you popped your brows and sighed. “Tell me about it.”

“Do you wanna tell me now?”

Mingi unlocked his front door, pushing the finished white wood open for you to step inside first. Heels clicking on the tile of the foyer, you make yourself at home, dropping your little purse on one of the end tables by the couches a few steps into the house, into the living room. Leaning over one of the leather backed sofas you pulled off your heels and dropped them into his outstretched hands, Mingi having locked the door behind him, following behind you with an attentiveness that irked your very soul.

“I said I’m fine,” you breathed, keeping your voice low. Just down one of the halls that wrapped around the back of the house, behind the kitchen, behind the living room, was his parents bedroom.

Up the stairs that you both teetered towards was his space, two bedrooms and a living room that mirrored the one on the first floor, but it’d been flipped by Mingi and his older brother when they were growing up. Full of things for school, exercise equipment, gaming systems, couches and bean bag chairs, Mingi and his brother made it theirs, their parents allowing them to have a space to call their own.

“And I’m saying, I don’t believe you,” Mingi whispered, placing a hand on your back to guide you up the stairs you wavered back and forth on. You tried to look over your shoulder but he placed his hand there instead, turning you back around. “Go, into my room,” he said, voice growing stern.

“Don’t get like that,” you grumbled, reaching the top of the stairs and the open floor waiting for you. To your left was the door to this brother's bedroom that had been vacant for a few years now that he was moved out and half married. “I’m tired, I’m drunk, I’m-”

“You’re not drunk, Tor,” Mingi said, wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you along the floor to his door at the other end of the second floor. A breath tumbled from your lips as your feet stumbled over each other. “You’re just tipsy enough to say too much.” He pushed open his door, not caring how it swung into the wall behind it.

“To say too much?” Your brows screwed together. Starting for his bed you tugged at the zipper on your pants, the silky black hugging your hips perfectly.

Mingi dropped your shoes on the floor by his door that he shut with a slam and smirked. “Yeah, too much. You think if Rora and Wooyoung wanted everyone to know they were hooking up with Soul that they’d say it themselves?” Shimmying out of your pants, tossing them aside, you pout your lips. “That’s their business,” he said, tossing his shirt over his hamper next to a tall chestnut dresser. “And that’s your best friend.”

Reaching up your back to attempt to take off your strapless top, you couldn’t reach the zipper. Mingi, after undoing his belt and zipper, his jeans hanging off his hips, he loosed a sigh and turned you around by your shoulders. Dragging his fingers over your skin gently, chills ran down your spine. With the zipper in one hand and your shoulder in the other, he tugged it down and let your top fall to the floor, wasting no time, smoothing his hand down your bare back.

“You looked so good tonight,” he whispered, his hands traveling back up, a smile dancing on his lips as he watched the little bumps over your skin rise at his touch. Taking your hair in his hands, his long fingers dancing through the strands, making sure none was left on your cheeks, he laid it over one shoulder and pressed his chest against your skin, the heat making you shiver. “My pretty girl,” his warm breath fanned over your neck, his lips inches from the skin, brushing over your ear first before they pressed to the valley beneath your jaw.

“We have to get on a plane,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as his hands smoothed down your front, over your chest, greedy as ever. He didn’t listen, lost in his own actions, lips pulling at your skin, sucking further and further down your neck, your collar bone, his hands groping, fingers pinching to make you yelp. “Mingi.” His name came out of you in a whisper, something soft, like a plea for more instead of a demand to stop.

His tongue slipped from his lips, a heavy fat stripe pressing into your skin from your collar bone to behind your ear where his teeth latched onto your lobe, nipping at it, his lips wrapping around the three different sized diamonds he had bought for you.

“We have twenty minutes,” he mumbled. Wrapping his hands around your arms he lifted a knee and tapped it against the back of one of yours, knocking your balance out from under you. Laughing to himself while you gasped and fell forward onto his mattress, he pressed a hand between your shoulder blades to keep you down while he lifted your knees one by one onto his bed. Bending over you, his lips came close to your ear and he whispered, “Do you want it?”

“Yes,” came out of you all too fast. If he didn’t put you into such a compromised position, if he wasn’t pinning you down to his bed, if he hadn’t hooked a finger under the lace of the thong you wore and pulled it to the side after snapping it against your skin once, you might’ve told him no simply because you were still ticked off from the party.

But then his jeans hit the floor, the sound of his belt smacking the wood echoing off his dark walls, and a warmth erupted within you. The sound, his hands, his voice, you were down in seconds, ready for him in seconds. Back arching as he dropped to his knees and slid his tongue between your legs, the muscle tweaking your clit, teasing you, a laugh falling from him as he felt you writhe beneath him. Clamping your mouth shut, jaw clenched, every sound, every moan, every whine, you withheld them from him, keeping them within your chest.

Smoothing a hand over the curve of your ass as he stood, letting his fingers trail up your back to your neck, he threaded his fingers through your hair and turned your head, forcing you to look back at him. “You’re such a liar, Tori,” he said, pushing his hips into yours, his length slipping along your center, another shiver running through you. “Something is up,” he whispered, taking a hand between your bodies, lifting one knee onto his bed beside one of yours, “And if you think I can’t tell…” his voice trailed off as he slipped inside of you, your hips pushing backward like clockwork, muscle memory, your body knowing what it wanted. “Fuck,” he grumbled, taking his time to fill you entirely.

Arching further into the bed, chest to his mattress, ass pressing into his hips, against his hips, you blinked fluttering lashes up at him and smiled. He was big, yes. The way his muscles rippled as he pulled out to push back into you was hot, yes. Mingi had the ability to lock you in, render you submissive with a single look, yes. He could make you feel so good, so fast, unlike anyone ever has. He knew your tricks, he knew your triggers, he knew your body like it was his own. Countless nights were spent here in his bed, or back at ATZ in his room, learning you. He could make you cum on his fingers in minutes, and on his dick even quicker.

His body curled around you, caging you in, trapping you beneath him. Normally you’d both hate to be in one spot too long, you both craved more, you always did, but in a moment like this, one spot and his filthy mouth was enough.

For a moment, amongst the lust, the heat coming off of both of you, the fuzziness beginning to cloud your brain as he held you down and used you like a toy, you start to think that maybe you’re okay. Maybe this thing with Mingi will subside and leave you alone. If this month in Haos would be spent like this, the two of you on each other like sex crazed animals, maybe things would get better.

You and Mingi were the It couple when it came to your group of friends. It had always been you and Mingi, everyone adored the two of you, everyone knew you came as a pair, everyone could see the way you were with one another, comfortable, full of love, unafraid of how people would adore the sexiness that clouded your aura’s whenever you were together. Sometimes it felt like the bedroom door was always open, but you didn’t care, and neither did Mingi.

That’s how this month in Haos was supposed to go. You wanted the teasing, you wanted the noise complaints, you wanted to get caught locking lips and riding thighs late at night in a hot tub or the pool, plenty of spring breaks had been full of moments like those, but now, the attention would be elsewhere.

And you had yourself to blame.

Because you were tipsy enough to talk too much.

Mingi slipped a hand between your legs, his fingers swirling that sweet spot in circles, a whine involuntarily escaping you. He slid in and out of you so deliciously your toes were curling, but that feeling wasn’t building within you. That feeling he could so easily conjure, it couldn’t find you, and it spooked you.

This hasn’t ever happened before.

You could speak up, you could say something. You could melt into him, ask him to flip over, tell him to do something else, but you couldn’t, you almost didn’t want to, and that killed you.

One thought of the vacation and your vibe was ruined.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, teeth biting into your shoulder. After a sigh he growled, “How the fuck are you not close, Torilynn.”

He almost had you, something sparked within you for a few seconds, but you couldn’t hold onto it for very long, so you decided to do something you’ve never once had to do with Mingi ever.

“I am, baby, I am,” you whispered, pushing a moan out of you that you knew would have him on the edge, “Don’ stop, Mingi, ‘hmygod.” Each thrust of his hips got sloppier and sloppier, his tongue pushed out of his mouth, lips latching to your neck as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you. He was seconds away from pumping you full of his cum and you couldn’t be any further away.

So, you tightened every muscle, you squeezed him tight, threw your head backward, and you mimicked how you’d sound when you’d actually orgasm. You’ve never prayed a day in your life, but within these few seconds, amidst his husky grunts and groans, his whispers of how good you fucking felt, you prayed he was too pussydrunk to realize that you faked it. Pushing you further into the mattress, his body weight resting on top of you, he filled you like he does, the shortest strokes aiding in emptying him entirely, and then, after a minute of shared heavy breaths and long kisses, he pulled out and laid beside you.

“God, c’mere,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his side with ease like he would when your body was normally spent. “Kiss me, please.” And you did, letting him lead the way, every kiss soft and gentle. “I love you, Tori,” he whispered against your lips, “So much.”

Taking a hand to his cheek, toying with the ends of his blonde hair, you smiled into the kiss, willing away the guilt that greeted you in your gut. “Love you, too,” you whispered, curling a leg over his waist. “So much.”

Wooyoung had Aurora in his arms. Standing in line at security, you and Mingi a few steps ahead of them with Seonghwa in front of you, the couple that wasn’t a couple tried to occupy the same space as one another. Sharing whispers when her face wasn’t buried in his chest, Wooyoung would have his lips pressed to her forehead more than they spoke words. They were both in hoodies, his hoodies, and sweatpants. Her makeup was gone, they’d definitely showered, and Soul stood behind them with his nose in his phone.

You’ve heard stories of how you and Mingi were with one another when the two of you started hooking up, when your relationship started. Only hearing the words, so caught up in the whirlwind of your own romance to realize how you were acting, you wondered if it looked anything like this. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, whether they were hooked around arms, waists, necks, or beneath the hem of a sweatshirt doing god knows what, the hands were almost worse than the kisses. On her forehead, on her cheek, pressed to his jaw, to his neck, to his lips if he looked down far enough for her to catch them.

You should be happy for her. Her heart had been broken several times at the start of your junior year, and here she was, with everything she wanted, everything she deserved, and then some. It wasn’t a secret, even if their label confused everyone but themselves, he wasn’t afraid to love her outside of his bedroom walls. That’s what she deserved. Someone she could trust, someone who would put up with every rigid part of her, understand her flightiness and keep her on her feet.

That might’ve been where Soul came in.

The bits and pieces you’ve heard from her, how it all worked, made it seem like Soul was something for them to play with, and vice versa. The boy going into his sophomore year fit right into your group of friends, you’ve all spent plenty of time getting to know him, he wasn’t one for relationships, for commitments. He wanted the fun, and who could blame him, he was twenty and about to start his second year of college, in no way was he planning on locking someone down, especially when he was trying to land a board position at ATZ his junior year.

He was in it for the fun, to get off without having to hunt and work for it, Aurora and Wooyoung handed it to him.

Moving forward in line, the six of you almost to the front, you met eyes with Seonghwa who glanced behind him checking in to make sure everyone was still there. He gave you a smile, his eyes crinkling under the strands of black hair that caressed his cheekbones. You wanted to know what went on in his head, all these months of watching Aurora and Wooyoung’s relationship blossom into what it is now, you longed to know how he felt about it.

Sure, the two of them put their shit to rest, Aurora and Seonghwa, having done so in front of nearly all of you. They were friends, strictly, that had been established in front of all of you.

Pulling your lips into a frown you wanted to physically shake the feeling off of you. Aurora had the eyes on her, since the start of your junior year. It wasn’t until all the shit blew over that you realized how it made you feel. Even after the fact, weeks, months later. You were there for her, you helped her through the transition of taking the president position, you even accepted when she asked you to be her vice president, and then, it was as if nothing had happened at all. Like no one remembered what any of you had gone through.

Yeji, expelled. Mina, pulled out of school by her own parents. Isla, kicked out of the sorority, gifted a lifelong struggle courtesy of Yeji herself. Yunho, shattering Aurora’s heart, ripping apart the tight knit group of four you adored being a part of.

Parties were thrown, bans were lifted, life got easier.

Everyone moved on.

“Tor,” Mingi’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts, his hand extended for you to take. Seonghwa was headed through the line, a group of men and women calling him forward to send him through security, checking thoroughly through everything. “We’re next.”

Slipping your hand into his, folding your fingers together, your grip fitting in his like it was made to be there, you took to his side and pressed yourself against him. ”Should I tell them I said something?”

Mingi glanced down at you, then back to the three waiting a few steps behind you. He gave someone a smile, whoever caught him checking on them, and said, “That you outed their little threesome?”

Clicking your tongue you shook his hand around. “Come on. It was so damn obvious.”

Pressing his lips together he softened his eyes. “Tor, I know I’m not smart, but… it wasn’t.”

“Ugh, whatever,” you groaned, slouching. “Least you have something new to tell Yunho to show him what he fumbled.” Mingi clenched his jaw, his eyes shooting upward and around the airport. “What?” you asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

He shook his head. “Haven’t spoken to him since classes ended.”

Right.

Of course he fucking hasn’t.

He’s said that to you.

All you could do was sigh, but that wasn’t answer enough. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked, looking down at you at his shoulder, a brow raised.

Shrugging, you used your other hand to gesture toward yourself, toward the day. “Everything,” you muttered, and smiled.

Letting go of your hand he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you closer to him, smiling. “You’re tired, it’s okay,” he breathed, planting a kiss on your temple. “Sleep on the plane. When you wake up you’ll be on a beach.”

Taking a deep breath, you laid your head against him. “Thank fucking god.”

Sleep couldn’t find you. It wandered around you, teased you, reeled you in hook line and sinker, just to let you go with every tiny sound you’d probably be able to sleep through if your brain wasn’t full of bullshit you longed to be able to get rid of. Even with Mingi beside you, his eyes fluttering shut, eyelashes fanning his cheekbones the second his headphones were over his head, you couldn’t make it happen. He’d taken your hand at some point, his thumb dragging over the back letting you know he wasn’t completely asleep.

His blonde hair, shorter now that he’s gotten it cut, charmed you, as it normally would. His finger dragging over your skin, a little rough but all the more smooth, soothed you, as it normally would. His presence, his over-attentiveness, his need to keep you safe, taken care of, it overwhelmed you, when it normally wouldn’t.

Nauseated with yourself, with what you had just done to him, something you would never have to do, you were sick. You told each other everything, honesty was the glue that held the two of you together, he always said it himself, that the second that goes away is the moment your relationship is over. His own past haunted him just as yours did. His heart had been broken one too many times, the sweet faced gentle giant. Mingi craved loyalty, someone to look after, and someone to look after him, and he deserved it, more than anyone you knew. It’s been something you’ve been able to give him unconditionally all these years, and he’s been able to give the same back to you.

He’s never changed. He’s consistent. He’s too good.

“Hey,” a whisper pulled you from your circulating thoughts, the ones that haunted you when you were left alone for too long. Turning to your left, just over Mingi, Wooyoung was crouched over in the aisle. “Sorry.” He smiled and it tickled your skin. The boy oozed otherworldly beauty. “Ro’s asking for you.”

“Right now?” you asked, keeping your voice as low as his. People around you were either sleeping or trying to rest at this hour. Wooyoung nodded, his lips resting into something that triggered your fight or flight. “What does she want?”

“Won’t tell me,” he whispered. “Says she needs her sister.” His eyes narrowed but his face softened all at once. “Make sure she’s okay for me? Please?” His vulnerability with you is rare. With anyone other than Aurora his vulnerability was rare actually. One of the smartest in the group, an intelligent being with a knack for picking up on energies without even needing to meet the human being in person, he had the ability to hide his own, the ability to only show it when necessary, and it was powerful. His eyes pulled you from your seat, his words coercing you up without even realizing. The pied piper. A mastermind.

“I will,” you said as you passed by him, watching him slip over Mingi’s lap to take your seat. Your boyfriend opened his eyes when your hand slipped out of his. Sitting forward, he popped off his headphones and blinked up at you. “Going to talk to Aurora for a few,” you whispered, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“No, actually, I need to talk to you, too,” Wooyoung said, a hand tapping Mingi’s shoulder to both you and your boyfriend's surprise.

“Sure,” Mingi said, his deep gravelly voice full of sleep.

Stomach sinking past your knees, through the bottom of the plane, plummeting into whatever state, city, county, jurisdiction you flew over, you gulped and turned away to start down the aisle.

She knew.

They knew.

They found out you said something.

There isn’t anything else this could be about, Aurora needed to talk to you, Wooyoung needed to talk to Mingi, they knew you opened your mouth and outed them.

With each step you willed your breath to remain steady. Like Wooyoung, you were somewhat of an expert at keeping your secrets at bay, not showing any truth unless you wanted to share it with the class. That’s why Mingi hadn’t been able to see anything, you wouldn’t let him. Approaching Aurora now, peeking over her row, her in the middle seat, Soul sitting by the window with his head on her shoulder, you swallowed every groan, every eye roll at the sight, and sat down beside her.

Gazing out the window at the night sky, slouched a bit where she sat, one leg pulled up on the seat, leaning into the boy who snoozed on her, his tangled earbuds in his ears, she looked at you with the smallest smile, placing a hand over yours when it grabbed onto the armrest.

“Hi,” she spoke within a whisper.

“Hi,” you answered, both of you keeping your voices low.

Her smile deepened. “I could feel your doom and gloom from back here.”

An eye roll snuck out of you. “You could, or Wooyoung could.”

Her smile vanished. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nevermind,” you breathed, “I’m just tired, I think once we’re there I’m going to sleep for forever.”

“Tori,” she studied you, “What did you mean by that?”

Remnants of this past school year. You might’ve been the only one still stuck, but that didn’t mean everyone else wasn’t affected by what had happened. She’d been doing this since the day she was appointed her position, asking for reassurance, double checking that everyone was good, that everyone was telling her the truth. You couldn’t blame her, if anything you were doing the same thing, just not outwardly. Aurora told you everything, though last fall she wasn’t, you understood she did it with good reason. She took how it made you feel and actively applied it to your friendship, and all the other relationships she valued in her life.

Now you know too much, but nevertheless, at the end of the day, you are grateful she trusted you with such delicate details.

Delicate details that now half the friend group knew about.

“He knows people,” you said, taking her hand in yours. “That’s all.” Her eyes flickered between yours, analyzing, like her brain scanned you for any signs of dishonesty. “You don’t have to do this with me, you know that.”

Focusing her attention forward, eyes dropping to her lap, she shook her head. “Sorry,” she whispered, then turned back to you. “I just wanted to check on you, I feel like you’ve been off. Like we haven’t talked about stuff in a while.”

Because you’re spending so much time with Wooyoung and Soul?

Because you’ve been frolicking around like nothing occurred these last two semesters?

Because you act as though life is fine, like it’s nothing to take seriously?

“Summer gets busy,” you said to her, squeezing her hand, “We know this. We go back to living at home, we have bigger responsibilities now, we’re both in relationships, it happens, Ror.” Funny, she was supposed to be the one comforting you right now. “We’ll have so much time to catch up on the beach.” She started to smile. “We can leave the boys behind, or we can RorTor them to death like we used to, whatever you want to do.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, then placed a hand over Soul’s bleach blonde hair, dragging her fingers through the strands. “As long as he’s good. Seonghwa said he’ll keep him on a short leash, but… I worry about him.”

Your internal eyes narrowed. Your internal lips pulled into a scowl. The face you wanted to make lived deep inside of you, every feature screwing up into a What the fuck? You didn’t get it. He was a twenty year old going into his sophomore year of college, if he couldn’t take care of himself at this point, if he couldn’t get a grip on himself at this point… You didn’t think Aurora needed the responsibility of looking after him.

Your side-dick will be fine, is what you wanted to say to her. The pet you and Wooyoung play with can take care of himself.

You didn’t get it. Wooyoung confidently left them behind, Soul draped over her like they were the ones dating. It placed something in your gut, in your chest, something you’ve only felt when your parents showered your sister and her achievements in glitter and gold, when they seemed to care about her more.

That couldn’t be it.

That wasn’t what this feeling was, sitting here watching Aurora stroke the boy’s hair with her something of a boyfriend sitting a few rows ahead of them. You weren’t envious of this. You were not jealous, you did not wish to have this in your life. You didn’t yearn for change, for something new, for something fresh, for something taboo.

“I can see it, Tor,” she said, a smile sneaking onto her lips. “There’s something wrong.”

“Aurora,” you whispered, the steadiness in your voice scaring yourself, “I’m fine.”

She gulped, let her stare bleed into yours for a few seconds, then pointed her eyes down to Soul. “Okay.” It was all she said, all she had left to say.

If Mingi couldn’t see shit, there was no way in hell you’d allow Aurora to see shit.

You wished it wouldn’t happen, but you could visualize the walls already built around you growing thicker.

It was like you said, you were fine.

You would be fine.

A month with them, just them, everyone, would sort everything out, as if you were back at school with them, back in close proximity to one another. It wouldn’t cause problems, it would solve them.

You hoped.

read it on ao3 | talk to me | my masterlist

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

#all of the teezers will be here too dw #nice for what #ggg #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi angst #ateez angst #ateez smut #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x female reader #plumverse #pwon is here too hehe #piwon be here

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daceydeath · 8 months ago

Text

A Work Proposal - Intermission

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader Word Count: 5.1k Genre: Smut, Angst Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Conflict, Explicit Activities

You had been working with Stray Kids for a while now and after a long day at work turns into a very unexpected but intriguing proposal. Will this change your world or end your career.

You had been back in Korea for a few months now, the tour had finally ended and you were thrilled to sleep in your own bed for an extended period of time again. Although you weren't always alone in your bed these days, the kids now had a tendency to text you and either show up with dinner or just arrive with wine and end up staying the night. But as recording was due to start you saw them less giving you time to catch up on your actual job of working for them in a staff sense.

Walking into the JYP building you were already checking your emails on your phone, new albums meant new promotions and new promotions meant a world of organization. Sitting yourself at your desk and putting through your order from the usual coffee place you had about 40 minutes before you had to be in the dance studio of the Stray Kids managers meeting which was something that you had not missed while being away on the tour. Getting your notes in order you started setting up meetings with the creative teams for their inputs on what the themes would be for not only the album but the music videos, and comebacks. You needed to have at least a skeleton of a plan that you could flesh out later. The drinks order arrived at reception and you went down to collect it before making your way to the dance studio where you knew the members and managers would be.

"Morning Minho" you greeted him softly while he opened and held the door for you then took one of the trays of drinks to help out.

"Hi kitten" he almost whispered, his eyes flicking to your lips quickly.

"Coffee" Hyunjin groaned groggily from where he was laying on the floor rolling onto his side to grin at you making you shake your head already feeling the start of exasperation leaking into your mood, if they hadn't slept then they would potentially start acting like fools.

"Morning guys, not much sleep I'm guessing" you raised your eyebrows sighing through your nose.

"Nah we're good, Hyunjin is just pouty this morning" Chan teased making Hyunjin roll his eyes dramatically and flop down flat on the floor again.

"Do I need to know?" you asked slowly, giving Chan then Han their drinks before you looked around for Felix.

"You know he gets grumpy if he gets pulled away from his art before he’s ready" Han grinned toothily as a hat came flying past your vision towards him.

"Of course" you muttered, handing Felix his coffee watching his eyes light up.

"Thank you" he piped in looking around to see if there were any other staff around but realized you were the only one with them currently "Thank you Jagi".

"You're welcome Lixie" you cooed taking the cup holder back over to the counter so you could get out the tablet and your phone for when the meeting started.

"You look pretty today Angel" Jeongin added, looking you up and down carefully "Is that?...".

"The top you bought me? Yes" you nodded watching the corners of his lips quirk up making you feel the urge to tease the younger man. "I'm pretty sure I only ever look good because you treat my wardrobe like I'm a doll you can dress up whenever you like Innie".

"Hush you love it" Minho muttered, smacking you on the arse as he went to sit down.

"So recording has been going for a few days right?" You looked over to Chan for his affirmation "Do you have ideas for which song you are wanting for the comeback track?".

"Yes and no" Changbin sighed heavily. "We have another session today which might change it but it depends how it goes".

"That is fine, I just will have to start meeting with the ideas people about concepts for your album and comebacks so when you have a decision just let me know" you explained easily.

"You are already working too hard if you are up to concepts" Chan scolded lightly.

"I promise I'm not, I just like to be prepared. After all you still need to do your half of the deal and record it all" you countered winking at him for good measure and making him flush slightly.

"Are you coming to the recording studio today?" Felix asked hopefully while moving to lay on Hyunjin's legs, who was still frowning lightly.

"Probably why did you need me to do something else instead?" you furrowed your brows looking down at your tablet to pull up an email that just arrived in your inbox about several other managers being needed for other meetings leaving you with the brunt of the actual in person work for the near future.

"No, we love it if you're there" he looked at you quickly giving you his best puppy eyes.

"Well considering that I'm the only one in for the rest of the day due to meetings, yes I am coming to the studio today" you half smiled.

Recording had been running smoothly, the bts filming of the recording wasn’t happening, so you had the luxury of being able to be slightly less guarded as the process unfolded around you outside of the boys of Versachoi was in today and with him in headphones you could get away with small touches and glances. With Han coaching Jeongin and Seungmin through what he wanted the vocals on the track to sound like you sat sandwiched between Felix and Minho neither being able to keep their hands off of you. Felix was cuddled against your side with his head on your shoulder while Minho slung one of his legs over yours while one of his hands played with your hair. Neither said much, just grumbling if you needed to move or speak to the others, everytime Chan spun his chair to face you asking your opinion on how it sounded or about their schedules a knowing look would cross his face leaving you with a sense of warmth in your chest. Your phone rang and you extracted yourself for Felix’s grip and Minho’s legs moving towards the door to answer your phone.

When you stepped into the hallway you continued watching the kids through the viewing window of the studio door. You had not missed the look Versachoi gave you as you crossed the room and it made you feel a strange uneasiness creep into your stomach. You dealt easily with the few issues in rescheduling a TV taping that the kids were meant to be attending but had been changed at the last moment, moving things for the following week to accommodate the station. Continuing to type away on another email you heard the door open from your place leaning against the wall opposite it but not looking up you were surprised when it wasn’t one of the kids voices that spoke to you.

“Chan says you work too much” Choi chuckled, stepping aside and leaning against the wall out so he was no longer visible from the studio.

“That is very much the pot calling the kettle” you smiled politely finishing your email and sending it.

“Look this might be a strange question but, are you involved with Chan?” he asked suddenly, flustering you to the point you almost dropped your phone.

“I’m sorry what?” you blinked at him, perplexed as to where that would even come from, you and he had probably had four conversations in all the time you had workday for JYPE and one of them was happening currently. Most of the interactions between him and Stray Kids was with the 3Racha team and you were never present so he was almost a stranger to you.

“That wasn’t polite” he admitted, looking away from you for a moment “You just seem a lot closer than just an artist and manager that's all”.

“I am not involved with Chan, I would consider him a close friend as we work so closely and I have a great deal of respect for him, but nothing more than that” you explained hoping this was all just a misunderstanding and that you would be able to talk your way out of it.

“Hyunjin told me you weren’t with him but I wasn’t sure if he was just saying that or not” Choi nodded, still not moving from his position beside the door.

“Hyunjin was telling the truth” you continued moving to step back into the studio.

“Well if you're single maybe we could grab dinner sometime, or just a drink if your schedule is tight” he smiled flirtatiously before making his way down the hallway leaving you to walk back into the studio still feeling an odd sense of trepidation.

“You ok pretty girl?” Han asked looking at you with concern “You look pale”.

“Um, yeah, Choi just asked me out since I’m not seeing Chan” you mumbled moving to sit back on the couch.

“Well you aren’t ‘just’ seeing Chan” Felix conceded, wrapping his arms around you again.

“He said he had asked Hyunjin who told him I was single” you swallowed looking at the fluffy blond hair spilling over your shoulder from where he had leant his head.

“But you aren’t single” Seungmin continued looking from you to Hyunjin and back again.

“It wouldn’t matter, I'm not interested in Choi regardless” you shrugged “He’s nice but I don’t actually know him”.

Chan frowned, turning back to the sound board and the others all seemed to be happy to go back to their previous activities for a few minutes until you were rejoined by Versachoi and your phone rang again. Once again stepping outside of the studio you were informed that a couple of meetings had been canceled so you would be relieved from studio duty by another one of the managers who was on his way, you would then have your break and after you had eaten your lunch you were needed to meet with the promotions department to go over idea to do with photocards and album editions for this next release. Reentering the studio the feeling in the room had definitely changed it now had an undercurrent of disquiet that you didn’t really want to deal with.

“I didn’t say anything wrong, it’s the truth, that’s exactly what it is” Hyunjin snapped defensively.

“Man, you have to think about this logically” Seungmin rolled his eyes as Chan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It isn’t just your decision though it is?” Felix soothed softly, his hand squeezing his shoulder trying to calm the taller boy.

“Is everything alright?” you tilted your head after you closed the door quietly.

“Yeah, just a few lyric issues” Changbin huffed.

“I’m heading out for lunch and one of the others will be in with you for the rest of the day” you smiled tightly “If you need me just call I’m going to be with promotions so it’s not super important if something comes up down here”.

After sitting in a cafe down the street to have another, very, strong coffee and something to eat you made your way back to your desk to prepare for the promotions team, you had to go over which music shows they would make their comeback on and how many weeks they would be promoting. It was always a careful balance to give them enough air time to get the best sales and support but not so much that you oversaturated the audience and annoyed them or exhausted anyone to the point of injury. Your phone had stayed silent except for a text from Chan saying that he would like to speak to you later about the Hyunjin thing which you could understand.

Your afternoon wasn’t that productive, your mind drifting anytime you were uninterested in your work back to the look on Chan’s face and how annoyed he looked and the flippant way Hyunjin had ignored it. Something felt off but not in the way that you thought there was some disaster but more in the way that there must have been something wrong whether it be that he was still irritated from not being able to finish the art he had been working on or he was frustrated with the recording he had done so far for the album. But now that it was almost time for you to finish with your day you made your way to Chan’s studio to speak with him like he had asked you to earlier. Knocking you waited for him to let you in, your smile dropping when you took in the serious look on his face.

“Channie, what’s wrong?” you inquired sitting on the couch as he took a seat on his office chair by his desk.

“A few of us have had a few conversations this arvo” he started scratching the back of his neck “Obviously Hyunjin told Choi you were single but the rest of us don't see it that way which we realized might be a problem for you”.

“Alright, how do you see this situation then?” you countered watching his face flush slightly.

“It’s, um, a bit embarrassing actually” Chan mumbled “The agreements have always been short lived so it was exactly that a short term thing, everyone involved is single and consenting and then it ends when it ends” he explained and you nodded along remembering the conversations you had, had with him and that others regarding what was going to be expected from you and what you could expect from them. “But this agreement with you is not like the others so some of us, including myself, think of you as ours. Others think of this as a situationship, there are feelings involved but it's not definitely a dating thing and Hyunjin at least says he views you as though you are both single and consenting in a friends with benefit type relationship”.

“How much of a problem have I created?” you asked apologetically after a few moments of silence.

“You haven’t done anything” Chan assured you, smiling crookedly “It just seems some of us have caught way more feelings than the others”.

“So how does this work out then?” you sighed pragmatically, trying to keep your heart in check as much as you could “do you all need to sit down and talk it out about what you each want, or more importantly need?”.

“I think we probably do need to talk about this as a group but also once we figure this out have another conversation with you, even if it mean changing the terms of this agreement” Chan nodded seriously this crease between his brows making you feel terrible for lumping an extra helping of stress on his already burdened shoulders. You stood from the couch to move closer from him letting him decide if he was going to move his gaze to you or not. He slowly lifted his head a sad smile slipping across his handsome face, you leaned in just as slowly your lips meeting his in a far softer and more loving kiss than you had ever shared with Chan, or any of the others, as though he was reassuring you that no matter what his feelings were decided on. Leaving his studio you made your way back out to your desk to collect your things to make your way home. You guessed you also had a lot you needed to think over before the time came.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you swiftly from your thoughts as back to the present Hyunjin’s name appearing in the bubble at the top of the screen, opening the message he asked if he was able to come see you this evening so you typed back a quick yes before tucking your phone back into your bag and waiting for your station to come into view. Hyunjin was waiting for you when you got to your apartment building sitting on the wall of the walkway to the entryway door dressed in a large hoodie, cap and face mask. He would have been totally anonymous to anyone else but you knew him so well that you could recognize him from his slouched posture.

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon” you admitted catching his attention and making him look up at you.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later” he sighed, almost sadly something indistinguishable swirling in his eyes.

“Don’t be silly Hyune come up” you chuckled letting him take your hand in his and intertwine your fingers together as you made your way inside together and up to your apartment. The elevator ride to your floor was silent making you worry slightly Hyunjin was always so soft and sweet with you, except when he was fucking you into the matress, so this was a distinct change for him. Ideas began popping into your head. Maybe the recording process was stressing him out, maybe he was feeling guilty about saying you were single or perhaps he had something he was hiding from you. Letting you and him into the apartment you slipped off your shoes and walked into your kitchen to turn on the kettle.

“Make yourself at home Hyunjin, I’m just going to change” you smiled watching as he pulled out a couple of mugs before making his way to the couch and flopping down on it. You pulled on some sweats and a large shirt that one of the boys had left behind wandering back into the lounge to see that he hadn’t moved his head still leaning back against the headrest with his eyes closed.

“Do you want some tea?” you asked, walking into the kitchen and making yourself some, when he didn’t answer you made him a cup too thinking you could just pour it out if he didn’t want it. You placed his mug on the table and sat at the other end of the couch waiting for him to speak, your hot cup cradled in your hand so that you could sip it when it cooled slightly. You waited sipping silently watching him breathing peacefully until you began to think he had fallen asleep.

“I need to talk to you about something” he finally said so quietly it was almost inaudible, his face looking almost grave for a moment.

“What happened Hyunjin?” you questioned wondering if there was an entirely separate issue that you were not aware of outside of what had happened at recording earlier in the day.

“I need to tell you something, I don’t want you to be angry or upset but I have to tell you I can’t hide it anymore” he almost pleaded with his eyes wide.

“Of course, you know you can always talk to me Hyunjin” you conceded, watching him intently now, you could notice the bluish purple hue that lingered below his eyes indicating it had been at least a few nights that he had not managed to get enough sleep.

“I want to stop the agreement” he blurted out, surprising you with how loud his voice was. “I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep telling myself you are mine when you aren’t, I want more than just this anymore and I can’t keep hurting myself anymore”. Silence surrounded you, suffocating you slowly as Hyunjin’s eyes filled with the same tears you could feel burning within your own.

“I understand Hyune” you shuddered “I never meant to hurt you”. He finally made eye contact with you pain etched so clearly on his devine features.

“Princess, you didn’t hurt me” he reassured you, taking your hand in his and letting his thumb stroke your knuckles soothingly. “I hurt myself by falling in love with you when I knew I shouldn’t”. You smiled weakly hoping that you could hide how much his confession hurt you, you cared for him so deeply that, had he been the only one in the agreement you would have told him you loved him too.

“We can go back to being friends though right? I don’t want you to shut me out Hyune” you sniffled.

“Of course, you are still my princess” he sighed, pulling you up so he could pull you into his arms and hold you tightly. “I’d kiss you goodbye but I think that will make this worse”.

“Yeah” you nodded against his chest not letting go of him yet.

“I will see you tomorrow, I’ll let myself out” Hyunjin cleared his throat untangling the pair of you and stepping away from you, you nodded again trying to smile but failing as he left your apartment the soft click of the door and the smell of his cologne on your clothes the only thing that now remained of what you were only a few minutes ago. Slumping back onto the chair you stared at the teacup on the table in front of you not really sure what to do other than cry for the man who loved you too much to be selfish, your heart broke at the realization. Hours had passed and when you finally registered that your phone was ringing you realized it was your morning alarm letting you know you had to leave for work in an hour's time. Doing the only thing you could think of in your emotional haze, you texted your manager to let him know that you were unwell and needed the day to get over whatever the bug you caught was and that you would be back the following day before you curled up under the covers to hide yourself away from the world.

At about 11 the first call from Chan came in saying he hoped you felt better, that they all missed you but you needed to rest and recover, a few minutes later another message arrived from Felix worrying that you weren’t well and that if you needed he would come over and take care of you. It continued throughout the day, each of the others messaging you to see if you were alright or needed anything. It wasn't until the ninth message that you had left on read that there was a loud knocking on your front door, dragging yourself to answer, you found yourself face to face with a worried looking Minho with an arm full of shopping bags.

“Oh kitten” he soothed stepping through your front door and placing the bags down on the hallway table to pull you against him tightly kissing your hair “my poor little kitten”.

“You have your schedule Minho, what are you doing here?” you sniffled not letting go of him to try to hide the tears that welled up again at his gentleness.

“My kitten needs someone to take care of her and apparently no one else has thought to, so here I am. I come bearing soup, ice cream, medicine and cuddles to try to help you recover?” he chuckled breathily at you clinging to him so tightly. “Let's get you sitting down and I’ll get you the soup first”.

Shuffling back into your lounge while still clinging to Minho was more difficult than you imagined but he managed to steer you around furniture and other obstacles until he could place you on the couch and escape your grip to get to the kitchen to get you utensils and a bowl. Returning to you quickly he took in your puffy red eyes, miserable expression and blotchy cheeks then frowned.

“Do you want to talk about it, kitten?” He sighed his face betraying the fact that he didn’t believe you were actually sick.

“I must have caught something from another manager I guess” you lied, looking up at him hopefully, you weren’t sure you could explain that Hyunjin had severed the agreement if he hadn’t yet told the other members without causing an issue that you didn’t yet want to fully deal with.

“Do you want to try again?I thought we trusted each other kitten?” he pushed gently pouting looking down at the food he had brought for you and busying himself with that.

“I trust you Minho, I always have” you sniffed again blinking rapidly to hold the tears back. “I just…I guess… I’m too invested in this now and I’m going to end up broken” you finally stammered hugging yourself tightly.

“Kitten, I can’t help if you don’t tell me” he hushed, sitting beside you and pulling you into his arms with your head tucked under his chin rocking you gently until he could feel your hiccuping breaths refusing to stop.

“Hyunjin doesn’t want to continue with the agreement, he said it hurts him too much and he can’t do it anymore” you admitted quietly looking up at him from where he was holding you against his chest.

“I knew he was hurting, I didn’t know he was going to do this though” he sighed, squeezing you slightly. “How about you eat something and then we can get you back into bed hmm” he reasoned, moving just enough that he could pull the bowl of soup towards you. Nodding you ate albeit reluctantly, Minho always showed his care through his actions so ensuring you had eaten and felt safe was the highest form of affection from him, you knew that so you did what you could to let him help. Taking your final mouthful he took the bowl and placed it back down before scooping you up and carrying you into your room and placing you in your bed carefully. Pulling your curtains closed he climbed in beside you pulling you back into his arms cradling you against his chest while he hummed softly fingers playing with your hair to help sooth you as much as he could.

“We all love you kitten, every single one of us, all in different ways. Hyunjin just seems to have actually fallen in love with you” Minho confessed barely above a whisper, the honest openness not lost on you.

“He can’t be in love with me” you murmured back exhausted “he deserves better than me”. You shut your eyes again but instead of hearing whatever the next words out of Minho’s mouth you concentrated on the sound of his heartbeat letting it lull you into the sleep you so desperately needed.

Your dreams were strange one moment you were reliving the conversation in your living room Hyunjin’s face distraught as you both wept and in the next you had your back against the cushions of the couch his lips covering your exposed skin in kisses while his hand snaked into your clothes his expert fingers finding your folds and teasing them as you arched into him. It was so vivid that you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as his deft fingers began exploring your entrance. Chuckling quietly you felt yourself shake awake only to find something entirely different.

“Dreaming of Hyunjin, kitten?” Minho smirked, sinking one of his fingers into your slick entrance, the slight stretch making you mewl “I don’t mind but you seemed so sad I thought I’d help”.

“Min” you purred, lifting your head to press your lips to his, encouraging him to continue. He brought his thumb to your clit lazily rubbing tight circles to give you just enough pleasure to make you whine “please don’t tease me Min”.

“You're so pliant when you're sleepy my kitten” he grinned wickedly slowly pushing another finger into you picking up his pace as he curled them inside you massaging your velvety walls perfectly. Pressing his lips against yours once more he kissed his way down your throat enjoying the soft gasps that continued to fall from your lips only pulling his mouth from your flesh to pull your shirt up far enough to reattach himself to your chest licking and sucking his way to your now pert nipples.

“Minho” you gasped again feeling the familiar warmth coiling in your belly.

“Shhh let me love you how I want kitten” he murmured against your skin before sucking a mark into the side of your left breast knowing it would only be seen by the pair of you. “Love covering you in my marks kitten, marking you as mine” he groaned as you moaned loudly the squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of you getting louder the wetter you got.

“I’m so close” you whined rocking your hips to meet his fingers to help fuck yourself on his digits.

“Not yet” he teased, pulling his fingers from you quickly and putting them in his mouth to suck them clean. “So sweet for me, so wet”. Pulling you up from the bed he rid you of your shirt quickly leaving you bare, your sweatpants long gone from before he even started toying with you. Effortlessly he lifted your legs to rest them on his shoulders giving his access to your arse which he started groping the soft flesh he bent forward licking a slow stripe through your now drenched folds huffing a soft laugh as you groaned loudly “Such a good kitten”.

“Minho, please” you whined, your legs now pressed to our chest, taking his cock in his hand he dragged it up and down your slit catching it against your clit and making you hiss before impaling you fully on his length.

“So fucking tight” he groaned as he began thrusting into you his deep languid thrusts letting you feel every inch of his perfect cock. His hips snapped against yours as he dropped one hand down your leg, his deft fingers circling your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck Minho” you whimpered feeling the coil tightening rapidly inside you, his thrusts deep enough to hit the gummy spot inside you “Fuck”.

“That’s it kitten” he growled, speeding up his thrusts as he felt your walls fluttering around you. Your vision went blank as you felt your orgasm crash over you like white hot flames, your walls clamping around him as you shook beneath him. Fucking you through your orgasm he quickly followed you over the edge thrusting into you sloppily as he emptied himself inside you.

“Mmmm” you hummed trying to catch your breath, Minho carefully pulled himself from you kissing your forehead as he reached for a few tissues to clean himself up before getting up and going into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

“Since it’s still not time for dinner, how about we get cleaned up and we go out to eat? I’ll call Chan and a few of us can all hang out” he suggested, not really waiting for an answer as he pulled you to the edge of the bed and helped you towards the shower.

“Is this just a ploy for shower sex?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“No promises kitten” he smirked ushering you into the bathroom and into the warm water.

A/N: Thank you for reading as always your likes, reblogs and comments are the light in the darkness for me my loves xx

Taglist (closed): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @symptoms-of-moonlight, @septicrebel, @ayoitschannie, @krishastumblernow, @tangerminie, @elizalabs3, @armystay89, @septemberkisses, @stay-bi, @seolarflare, @damnyouficc, @eastleighsblog, @wohaku, @bakedlilgoonie, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @spacegirlstuff, @queenmea604, @fawnpeaks, @3rachasninja, @mrsseals16, @leeknowinggg, @hyunlixsbbygirl, @obeythemasters, @tanzen-ist-gold, @freckleboilix, @junebug032 @hellothisisprincesskitty

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hayakawalove · 1 month ago

Text

Dance On Me

Summary: Gojo accompanies his best friend on a drug run, where he meets a stranger. The both of you dance together, and Gojo gets more than he initially planned.

A/N: Hello! Something about this is so hot to me. Thoughts? I'd love to know!

CW: Smut, Dancing, Drugs, Grinding, Female Reader, AFAB Reader W/C: 2,390

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Satoru doesn’t understand why he’s here. He would much rather be anywhere else. For example, he’d rather be in bed, playing video games right now. That was what he was doing. That is until his friend sitting next to him got a text from a customer. It wasn’t like Suguru dragged him out of the house, but Satoru wasn’t just going to let him go out alone.

“Why are we here again?” Satoru complains, eyeing the inebriated people that pass by.

Suguru’s eyes scan the inside of the club, looking for a particular woman. When he doesn’t immediately spot her, he sighs and turns around to face Satoru.

“Because it’s where she wanted to meet.” Suguru replies, stuffing his hand in his pocket to thumb the small bag filled with pills.

Satoru clicks his tongue and looks away, his eyes darting from the bar to the dance floor. This wasn’t his scene at all, and he felt completely out of his element.

“Why don’t you go find someone to keep you company while I go look for her? You might even walk away a happier man.” Suguru jokes.

There he goes again. Suguru was always trying to find someone for Satoru. It was annoying. It was a joke at first, but it was starting to feel like he really cared whether or not Satoru had sex.

“You know I’m not gonna hook up with anyone tonight.” Satoru says, flashing a smile as a woman accidentally bumps into him.

She has long black hair with dark eyes, and a nice smile. There’s a drink in her hand that she clutches tightly.

The second she makes eye contact with him she grins, looking away immediately in embarrassment. Satoru’s gaze follows her as she walks off until she’s out of sight.

“Why not? You flirt a shit ton anyway. What difference does it make?”

Suguru didn’t get it. Satoru didn’t expect him to, anyway. He didn’t understand it himself either. No matter how much he wanted to have sex he just couldn’t.

“The chase is the best part. Plus, I’m not taking advice from you. You’ve slept with most of the town.”

“Ouch.” Suguru chuckles and begins to walk once more.

“I’m gonna keep looking. If you’re not gonna fuck someone in the bathroom, then at least keep yourself entertained.”

Satoru groans and watches as Suguru disappears into the crowd of people. A couple minutes pass where Satoru feels completely awkward. The music is too loud and he can smell the stench of alcohol drowning the air out. He didn’t want to judge. People found happiness in different ways. He just couldn’t understand what was so great about this.

The song switches and he was hoping that Suguru was going to magically reappear within seconds, ready to go back home, but when that doesn’t happen he feels his spirits dampen. Who knew how long it was going to take for him to come back? Satoru internally groans.

He may as well have fun in the meantime.

Satoru eases his way towards the dance floor, letting the music flow through his veins. Bodies bounce off him as he makes his way through the crowd. The music is so loud he can feel it in his chest, a deep pounding that guides his feet to the middle of the room. Satoru lets his body loose, lets himself feel all the pleasure and joy floating throughout the room.

And he dances.

He dances until his feet become sore and his vision becomes dizzy. Satoru dances with all the girls that come up to him, one by one, flashing that dazzling smile of his while they drape their arms around his neck. Satoru wouldn’t admit it to Suguru, but he was starting to have fun. He was drunk. Not on the endless stream of alcohol that flowed throughout the room, but instead he was drunk on the attention. Drunk off the feeling of needy hands grabbing at him, nails scratching down his shirt as if they wanted a taste. He wouldn’t give it to them. What was the fun in that?

“Hey,” a voice frees him from his mind.

He hadn’t realized he was currently dancing alone until a woman had brought him back to reality. You. Satoru’s eyes flick from your face towards your body. Perfect. You were perfect. Your dress was clinging to your skin, making Satoru lightheaded. He watches as you step closer towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck to tug him down. He follows your lead effortlessly, intrigued to see where you were going with this.

“Hi,” he replies, unable to look away.

You smile and begin to move your body against his. His hands find their way around your waist where he helps move you to the beat of the music.

“What’re you doing dancing all alone?” You ask, your fingers dragging throughout his soft white hair.

Satoru almost lets his eyes roll back, but he manages to stay strong.

“I was waiting for you.”

He’s never seen you a day in his life.

He has no idea who you are.

But he wants to.

“Is that right?” You let your fingers drop to the back of his neck where your nails begin to dig in.

Satoru’s grip on you tightens, his hands keeping you steady. He’s wondering if you can feel his breathing speeding up, if you can feel the way his cock begins to harden in his pants from you.

The two of you don’t talk, instead only focusing on the way your bodies communicate with each other. The music guides you, letting itself talk where you guys can’t. Satoru’s hands drag up your body, marveling at the way you react to him. It’s like you’re craving him, the way you fall into his touch. Satoru can’t take his eyes off you, he admires the way you look beneath the low club lights.

And then of course there’s your body. Your hips are bumping against each other constantly, only making Satoru’s cock grow more. He can feel all the blood in his body rush towards his pelvis. He wasn’t going to sleep with you, but fuck if he wanted to.

There was no way you weren’t catching on, either. There’s a micheveous glint in your eye as you pull him down more, any semblance of personal space between the two of you completely gone.

“You’re a good dancer,” Satoru says, letting his hand drift further south where he gropes your ass.

You seem unphased, which only makes him want to do it more.

“I’m good at a lot of things.” You reply, and his thoughts run wild.

What exactly did that mean? What were you good at? Did it also involve your body? Did it involve your hands, your mouth, your-

Satoru almost lets his mind wander, but he catches himself. He grips your body tighter, not dwelling on how pliant you feel beneath his touch. The moment almost feels too intimate, like the two of you shouldn’t be doing this in public on the dance floor. When he takes a look around he’s reminded that no one cares. No one cares that you’re grinding against his cock, because they’re all doing the same to their respective partners.

Satoru loses track of how long he’s been dancing with you. Forever, it feels like. He could continue to dance, as long as you would let him. You seemed to be living in the moment just as much as he. Your eyes were closed and there was a hint of a smile on your face. You were so sexy.

“This is so much fun,” Satoru finds himself saying.

“Yeah? You wanna have a little more fun?”

More? It was possible to have more?

You drag your fingers through his hair, making goosebumps spread across his body. If he didn’t know any better, he would think this was a dream.

“I do,” he says, anticipating what you have in store.

You step away, momentarily breaking the dancing between you two. Satoru tries not to feel too sad. He watches as you rustle around in your pocket, before pulling out a small plastic bag. Inside, there are two blue pills. You take them out and pop both of them in your mouth as you step closer to him once more. The heat from your body makes his spine tingle, and he wraps his arms around you.

“You ever do drugs before?”

Satoru tries to keep his face neutral, but it’s damn near impossible. He hasn’t even drank before, much less do anything worse.

“No.” He murmurs, looking down as your body presses against his.

As uncomfortable as he is with the prospect of getting high, he still can’t drag himself away from you.

“You want to?”

He really doesn’t. But the way your eyes are twinkling under the club lights has him rethinking.

It can’t be that bad, right? Tons of people get high. And they’re fine, most of the time. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to make a habit of this.

“Okay.”

You grin and press your lips against his, opening your mouth to pass a pill towards him. Satoru takes it and swallows, sweat breaking out on his forehead on how this might affect him.

“Blueberry?” He asks, the taste lingering on his tongue.

“Yeah, you like it?”

“Yeah.” Satoru responds, letting you step away once more.

You press your ass against his front, and begin moving to the beat. Satoru feels like this can’t be happening. It must all be fake, right?

He places his hands on your waist and joins in, dancing along to the music. Satoru begins to feel the drugs take affect, making his body feel lightweight. The music sounds better, and everything feels more real. He’s certain nothing has ever felt as good as your ass does on him. If you notice how hard he is, you don’t say anything. He’s sort of grateful, he doesn’t want to seem inexperienced.

You press against him harder, and he groans. The music covers up the sound, and Satoru looks around to double check that no one heard him. You’re grinding against him, and he has to bite the inside of his cheeks to refrain from making more noise. Satoru can feel how wet the inside of his boxers have gotten. Precum soaks through, left as a reminder for what he really wants.

Satoru looks down and watches as you move your ass against him. He rocks his hips against you, letting your body pleasure him. He doesn’t even think about how you should slow down, everything feels too good. There’s a voice in the back of his mind telling him that maybe this isn’t a good idea. If you keep going, he’s going to-

“Hey, slow down.” He says to you, voice low so nobody could hear.

You look over your shoulder at him, but continue to dance against him. There’s an evil glint in your eye that’s leaving Satoru winded.

“Why? You don’t want to?”

“I do, it’s just,”

Satoru looks up, a moan leaving his lips. He’s close, and he hasn’t even fucked you. Was he going to cum in his pants in the club?

Your ass grinds against him as you lose yourself in the music. Satoru decides to let the last shred of his slip away.

Every touch feels amazing. He wants to feel this way forever. This is what drugs felt like? Satoru closes his eyes and grinds against you. His dick is so hard it’s all he can think about as you move your ass on him. He’s never felt the touch of another before. Will his hand ever feel good enough after this?

The crowd is even more packed than it was when he and Suguru arrived, if that was even possible. Satoru could feel the pressure of other bodies dancing next to him, lost in their own worlds. He thinks back to Suguru for a moment, but the memory is quickly overturned. He’s too busy with you. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing up, body on edge as you grind against him. He’s really getting closer, if you don’t stop, Satoru’s going to-

You bounce your hips faster, and it only takes a couple of times before Satoru cums, spurting into his boxers in the room full of crowded people. His grip on you tightens as the realization dawns on him. The feeling makes his body straighten as he looks around, wondering if anyone saw him. No. Did you notice?

You turn around and wrap your arms around him. His mind is foggy from the drugs and his orgasm, but he tries to act average for you.

The cum fills his underwear, the warm liquid seeping against his thighs as he cringes. How was he going to explain this to Suguru?

“This has been fun, but I have to meet up with someone.” You say, before stepping away.

Satoru can’t even stop you. He’s left alone, watching as you disappear into the crowd. It felt like he had made it all up, but the cum dripping against his skin was more than enough evidence to tell him that it was real.

He dashes off to the bathroom to clean himself up. He can’t help but think about how shameful it was. Satoru undresses from the waist down, glaring at his underwear before throwing them in the trash can. There was no saving them. He quickly redresses before heading out, eyes darting around the club as he tries to clear his mind.

Satoru finds Suguru standing by the bar, a bored look on his face as he waits. He wastes no time walking toward his friend, squaring his shoulders as he greets Suguru.

“Hey,” he clears his throat.

“Hey, where were you?” Suguru looks Satoru up and down.

He’ll definitely be able to tell he’s high.

“Just was dancing. Did you find your customer?”

“Yeah, she just left.”

“So we can go home now?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. She’s an important customer of mine. Her order is weird though.”

“How so?”

“She asks me to put blueberry in her orders. I get money, so I can’t complain.”

“Huh?” Satoru stops immediately. Images of your face flash in his mind as he chases after Suguru.

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @kimi01985, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @mikisspeak, @dinolvrrr, @sakui1, @reiluvr, @gothiccwhore666, @bunviixo, @slutshamethesquirrels

If you want to be added to my taglist let me know, just tell me what you want to be added to

#my writing #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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carmyberzattosjournal · 3 months ago

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Entry 24: Property of: Darling

Screenshot credit: @neverscreens

Bearblr Promptober Day 24: Haunted House

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend's schedule has switched temporarily, and he hates the loneliness. So she joins him at the restaurant for one morning and leaves him a parting gift. Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, mentions of The Devil, mentions of Mikey, comfort, fem reader who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns Carmy takes care of Nat, feat. Nat. (1503 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

12 Oct 2024

Radiator update: still fucked. Life update: Darling came to The Bear.

“Oh, this place is a little creepy,” she whispered as we entered. She swept her gaze around the front of house, the slatted ceiling, the wilting florals in the small, handmade vases on the four-tops from the night before.

“Creepy?”

“Yeah. It feels. Uh…” She gathered her coat together in the front and crossed her arms over it. “I don’t know, a little haunted?”

“Probably Mikey. He would haunt my ass to spite me.”

An uncomfortable grin slowly spread on her features. She covered her mouth with her hands. “I really shouldn’t be laughing…”

Doctors aren’t the only people who use dark humor to cope with pain.

“Come on, kitchen’s back here.” I beckoned her to follow me.

Her schedule changed for a few weeks while one of the other surgeons was on paternity leave, so she needed to be at the hospital for second shift, which meant that she’d be at home alone while I needed to be at work, I’d go home to an empty apartment all evening, and then she’d get back home when I was on my way to passing out. The first day, it didn’t bother me too much (her schedule change started on a Monday); by the time Thursday rolled around, the fucking loneliness hit me. It was so fucking quiet in the apartment. How I existed in that silence for so fucking long, with nothing more than echoes from my past, ghosts of The Devil, of Mikey, of the gardens at NOMA to keep me company, to play endless loops in my head, I have no fucking idea.

But it’s probably part of why I’m fucking psycho.

I needed, more than anything, to listen to Darling tell me about her day, about Monique, about the shitty families that annoyed her. I needed to hear her giggle and snort at my stupid jokes, and I needed her legs across my lap while I worked out those knots in her calves. Fuck me, I needed her in my lap mumbling sweet little things into my mouth while her hands danced over my skin, wove into and tugged on my hair. Morning sex was fulfilling as ever—even if she was practically shoving me out of bed to keep me on time after because somewhere in these several months, my brain must’ve latched onto sex equaling sleep—but sex is not what I’ve been starved of. Lack of sex isn’t the roiling, screaming, hollow in my being that involuted and metastasized into the monster, the animal that chewed away and retched out the good parts of me as undigested lumps; it was lack of intimacy. I can protect myself with my armor, but I can’t hug anyone while wearing it. And under that armor, I atrophied into this mess.

God’s a sadist. We’ve established this.

“Pretty boy?”

My head snapped up from the marble counter towards Darling. Warm smile on her face. She was pointing to my left, out of my view. I followed where she was gesturing and found Nat there, looking like she hadn’t slept in a fucking week, holding a stack of manilla files. Her hair was a frizzy fucking mess secured to her head in some way, she had no makeup on, her eyebrows were half-missing, she had these purple-green shadows under her eyes, her lips were chapped. Wrinkled t-shirt, fleece jacket.

My stomach sank through the floor. She hadn’t looked like that in a thousand years. I didn’t even know what was wrong yet, but I needed to fix it. I needed to fucking fix her. Her hair was such a mess, did she even brush it? Who the fuck did this to my sister? Why does she look like that?

“What-what’s wrong?” is all I managed.

She held up a hand. Spoke with her eyes closed. “Emily colicked all night, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Mikey—I’m fine, I promise, I just miss him. I’m just gonna secure the schedule with Richie, and then I’m gonna go back home—"

“Home, yeah, please. For fuck’s sake, get some rest,” I said. I skittered around the counter and took the files from her. “What are these?”

“Documenting and accounting for Cicero, just put them in the filing cabinet, top drawer, left side.” She rubbed her forehead. “I need. Coffee.”

“Did you eat?”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Carm—”

“Nat, fuck you. Did you eat?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “No. I did not.”

I went to put the files away. Got back in the kitchen and set about making Nat her favorite omelet. She went to the office, saying something about “turning into a lump” until Richie got there. I got into the flow of dicing peppers and forgot Darling was even there until I felt her hands around my waist and her gentle warmth press into my back. Thank fuck I was used to her pulling adorable shit like this at home—I knew to put the knife down because my eyes would drift closed of their own accord, and, still without my input (this woman has my body on a switchboard, I swear to Christ), my head would loll back to rest on her shoulder. She swayed us lightly on the spot. Hummed. Pressed her lips to my neck.

“I think it’s so sweet how you two take care of each other,” she whispered.

Fuck me, that was dangerously close to fucking me up. My core tightened with a familiar heat, and this pleasurable prickly sensation buzzed along my inner thighs and low in my back, weirdly enough. At work. I’m at work right now, pretty girl, you can’t go whispering things in my ear. I need to survive another 10 or so hours without you, and if you’ve fucked me up this bad, I’m just going to cause problems for everyone else. You have to be at the hospital today, too, so it's not like I can go home and rail you senseless to get it out of my fucking system.

“Call me later, hm?”

I nodded. “Mmhm.”

Was it planned? Did she plan to make a wreck of me? Certainly seemed like a possibility based on the smirk she had on her angelic features as she waved goodbye and exited the kitchen. I nearly overcooked the eggs thinking about the way her hips swayed as she walked away. That had to be on purpose, too, right? Was I imagining things? Was Darling teasing me?

My head continued to spin 20 minutes after she’d left. Felt like I was on a boat or had just started going down in a particularly fast elevator. Sug was slumped over at the desk, head on her arm, looking more like a half-molten wax sculpture than an entire person, but she offered me an exhausted smile when I brought her breakfast over to her.

“Aw, you also made me coffee, Bear,” she cooed. Then blinked. Rubbed her eyes. She pointed at her neck. “Uh, you have, uh…”

A lipstick print?

She grabbed her fork and sliced off a bite of omelet. “You might wanna get that off before Richie gets here. Or Syd. They’re gonna have a field day.”

I popped over to the bathroom to take a look at it. It looked like a tattoo. There was a perfect lipstick print right over the tendon on the side of my neck in a color somewhere between pink, maroon, brown, and red. Blue-leaning instead of orangey. Warmth bubbled in the pit of my stomach, not that dissimilar to arousal, but this one was of a lower intensity. It was comforting. It soothed me more than it riled me up.

Fuck, it looked fucking gorgeous. It was so symmetrical, so neat, had perfect edges, no smudges. It followed the angle of the muscle as it crawled up my neck. The color wasn’t jarring or bland. Most of all, it was from Darling. It was hers. She might as well have written a “property of” notice and tied it around my neck. So, Richie and Syd and Tina and Marcus were going to see it—so what? They see my tattoos, do they not? They see the adornment I chose to put on my skin so others would see; they can see this one, too. No, you don’t understand, all of you—I belong to her. Not you. Not this restaurant. Not Cicero. Darling. I belong to Darling, and all you fucks are just gonna have to get used to it.

Sug, with her mouth full. “Carm, this is so good. Thank you.”

“Modified Syd’s recipe,” I replied automatically, heading back over to the office. “I left out the potato chips because I doubt your stomach would’ve liked them at this hour.”

“Mmhm.” She looked up at me. Her eyebrows crashed together. “You’re not gonna… take that off?”

The lipstick print?

Good question. “The color suits my eyes,” I said.

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #Nat is Carmy's mom and I will hear no arguments #Carmy is Nat's firstborn #you know I'm correct

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sailorshadzter · 3 months ago

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hi i still exist. :)

The music that plays is soft and slow, a song she recalls from weddings past, a staple from each and every Northern wedding she’s attended throughout her life.

And yet somehow, someway, this time it feels different.

Perhaps it’s the three glasses of wine she’s consumed or perhaps it’s the fact that she’s not been home in something like three years.

There was nothing left for her here, after all.

She looks up as the song ends, the crowd applauding as the band takes a moment to pause, to drink a gulp of water before they return to their places, the next song falling from their instrument strings.

“Can I have this dance?”

The voice draws her out of her own mind, catching her off guard. She looks up and to her surprise, she knows the face grinning down at her, though it’s been something like a lifetime since they last spoke, let alone saw each other. “Jon,” she greets, smiling in spite of herself, red painted lips curving around the familiar syllable of his name. “It’s been a while,” she says, not answering his question; that question treads dangerous waters. Of all the people she expects to see at this thing, Jon isn’t one of them, and she suspects her best friend is to blame.

“I know,” he replies, extending his hand for her to take.

It takes but a moment or two more before she relents, slipping her hand into his and allowing him to pull her onto her feet. Together they make their way out to the center of the dance floor, to where the dozen or so other couples already dance, the bride and groom included, as a popular mainstream love song plays by the band’s hands. “I’m surprised to see you,” she admits as they fall into step, the dance as familiar today as it was all those years ago.

“Me too,” he admits with a laugh, so soft and slow, for a moment she thinks she might drown in the sound of it. “I was surprised when the invite arrived.” She glances at the bride, her best friend, Margaery, and she reminds herself to have a conversation with her at a later date. “I decided I couldn’t turn down the chance to see a wedding like this one with my own eyes.” She’s laughing now and he’s tightening his grip on her waist. “I didn’t think you would come,” he says next, softer now, his gray eyes somber when they meet hers.

What he means is I thought you would never return North after what happened here. The truth was, neither did she, but… Margaery had always been her friend, her best friend, and even when she’d been the one to fade away, Margaery had never lost sight of her. “I’m sorry…” he says next, his voice close to her ear, drawing her back in. “I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s okay,” she says with a shake of her head, offering him a smile. “I couldn’t say no to her,” she says, glancing towards her smiling friend, drunk off happiness and wine as she dances with her husband. “Even if I had, I imagine she’d have brought me here against my will.” He’s the one laughing now and as the song ends, he does not let go of her hand. “Dancing is a dangerous game,” she says softly, tilting her head as blue eyes meet gray.

Jon only grins, drawing her back in for a second dance.

[ x x x ]

That night, she twists beneath the bedsheets of the hotel room bed he’d rented for the weekend.

She revels in the way he utters her name, in the feel of his hands threading through her hair, in the way he moves between her thighs. “Sansa,” he rasps, his breath warm against the hollow of her throat, a reminder of the warm bed she left behind all those years ago. When he pulls back, she finds herself drowning in those smoldering gray eyes, eyes still yet full of the stars she’s dreamed of since their last moments together. For three long years, she’s slept with other men, dated and partied, but every night she always found herself longing for something, for someone, she no longer had.

It isn’t until he’s leaning in, kissing the salt from her lashes does she realize she’s begun to cry.

[ x x x ]

When the morning sunlight spills in through the hotel curtains, she carefully slips from his arms and the bed.

Tiptoeing across the room, she fishes her dress up off the floor, shimmying into it only to remember she can’t zip it up the back on her own. “Fuck,” she utters with a sigh, arm stretching at every awkward angle in an attempt to try anyway. As another curse is about to fall from her lips, she feels the brush of hands against her own and can feel the zipper make its ascent to the top, securing her back into the dress he’d nearly ripped from her body the night before. “Thanks,” she mumbles, swinging back around to face Jon where he stands in just his boxers, his hand lingering as if he means to touch her further. But, he must think on it, for it drops back to his side, tightening into a fist she does not notice. “I should go…” She turns away, thinking this would be it, this would be the last time…

“Do you have to?” He asks, unable to stop himself.

She stops, slowly revolving back to face him, those stoic features softening as gray eyes meet blue. “My train home… It’s not until Monday.” She admits quietly, thinking of the room in Margaery’s parents home she’s meant to occupy until then.

“Let’s have lunch then.” He says with a grin and she’s laughing in spite of herself.

“In this?” She asks, gesturing down at her slinky golden gown she’d worn to the wedding, wrinkled now from laying in a heap on the floor all night.

“Sure,” he says, reaching for his own discarded dress pants, far more wrinkled than her dress. “We’ll go somewhere to match the wardrobe,” he shrugs on his white button down, allowing her to reach out and adjust his collar when he’s gotten it buttoned up. “You know the place.”

Of course she did.

“Fine, but then you must take me to get my bag,” she says as she steps back into her heels, kicked off the night before as he tackled her into his bed.

“Does that mean you intend to stay?” He asks and she blinks, her heart skipping a beat.

“Only if you want me to.”

Jon grins, nodding, reaching out to take her by the hand.

[ x x x ]

Her phone hasn’t stopped buzzing since they left the restaurant.

Between the old ladies who had spotted them having lunch and Margaery’s parents telling her that she’d come by to collect her overnight bag, she and Jon didn’t have much of a chance to hide they’d been together, even if they had intended to do so. But the hours of the day are spent whittled away by wine and talk, by sex and joy, so it isn’t until well past midnight that she finally slips away from him, to step out onto the balcony in just his t-shirt, to pick up her phone and dial the number that has relentlessly called and texted all day long.

“Finally!” Margaery’s voice explodes in her ear after the first ring.

“No one would believe today was your first day of being married, considering you spent the entirety of the day calling me.” Sansa quips and her friend laughs on the other end and she can practically hear the smile in Margaery’s breathing.

“And you spent the entirety of the day doing… Jon Snow?”

Sansa laughs in response and Margaery shrieks, much like they were teenagers once more. “I knew it! That old Mrs. Hightower said you two left together last night but I didn’t believe her… Until mother called that is. How was it?” Sansa can picture her friend as she must have been right then, with that twisted smile she only ever wore when it came to talking about Jon Snow.

“I’m not going home.” She says without missing a beat, without an ounce of hesitation.

Even that shut up Margaery.

“You’re… Not…?” She asks when she’s recovered her senses a moment later. “It must be good.”

Sansa turns around, back to the balcony edge, staring in through the glass door to where she can see Jon still asleep in the bed. Her heart skips a beat and she knows it goes against everything she’s told herself over the last few years. It goes against everything she’s tried to do for herself, against the new life she’s tried so desperately to build. “No… Not right away, anyways.” For some reason, now that she’s come back to this place, to this person, she can only wonder how she ever left at all. “I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She hangs up before Margaery can answer and returns inside, slipping back into her place beside him in the bed.

He lets out a long, sleepy breath as he turns over, arm extending out over her hips. “I wondered where you’d gone…” He breathes into her ear, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her earlobe as one wandering hand slides up beneath the hem of his shirt she wears.

“Can I stay?” She asks quietly, thinking of what she’d just told Margaery.

Jon pauses, his fingertips brushing across the curve of her hip as he lifts his head, leaning over her so their eyes can meet. “You’re already here…” He says with the hint of confusion laced into his tone.

“I mean… After Monday.”

Jon blinks, realization dawning, and a grin spreads across his face, those eyes of his full of twinkling stars. She imagines their life as it always could have been, these long nights together, the early morning coffee cups, the boots he wears beneath the edge of their shared bed… Such thoughts fill her to the brim with warmth, with a sensation she’s only ever felt in his arms. “You can stay forever, if you’d like.”

She smiles, thinking how sweet that sounded- forever.

It could be theirs, just this once.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #modern jonsa #jonsa au #taylor swift is a jonsa #i wrote this #my writing #jon x sansa

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r0tting-rat · 1 month ago

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Happy Christmas!

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: None Words: 1900+ Au: Midnight Overture: Cotard's Delirium (by me) Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and you do the mistake of sleeping-in while in the same house as two very strict robots. As a result to your laziness, you are forced to help out one of your bitchy employers in the kitchen. (Sun-centric, Sun's name is Sonne)

The walls of the manor were quiet, despite it being Christmas Eve. No child was running through the halls, no shadow or whisper could be heard behind closed doors or seen peeking behind corners—the rooms were all empty of their usual inhabitants, for Moon had taken all the kids outside to play in the snow. You had woken up late that morning, groaning in pain as your back and arm muscles complained and screamed at you to relax, with no automaton to knock on your door or scream at you to get dressed and come down for breakfast. In fact, after sending a glance to the clock hanging on the wall next to the door, you realized that you had skipped the meal altogether. Did Sonne really let you sleep that long? Seeing the clock’s hands pointing at 10:35, you immediately jumped up to your feet, cursing under your breath as you hurried to get dressed before any of the two automata caught you slacking off, throwing on a random sweater you had found at the foot of your bed and attempting to slip inside a pair of jeans you had left laying on the floor next to the drawer. Sonne was going to kill you for being late—seriously this time. He didn’t like when people left him waiting.

“Sonne?” you began to call after finally leaving your room, searching your brain for a plausible excuse as to why you were still sleeping past 10 am while running down the hall. You almost jumped down the stairs leading to the second floor, turning right and expecting to find the automaton sitting in the living room, in front of the fire, like he liked to do on cold winter mornings like that one. “Sonne, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…!”

The automaton wasn’t there where you were used to find him; the fire was lit, the couches and comfy armchairs were surrounding it just like you had left them the night before, but no sun-themed robot was sitting on the one closest to the burning brazier with a soft blanket covering his shoulders and arms, complaining about the cold freezing his wires and locking his limbs in places. You looked, confused, outside the windows, expecting to see the large backyard covered in snow staring back at you, finding instead the three kids playing in the white coat of winter with their lunar guardian. Basil, the youngest, was trying to sneak up on Moon, as his older sisters Blanche and Annabel threw snowballs at the laughing automaton. Where else could Sonne be? Your second guess turned out to be the right one; the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards and drawers, dancing around the burning stoves and grilling pans like only someone who had cooked in the same house for 30 years could do.

Standing in a corner of the dining room, which opened on the left from the stairs, you hid from the automaton, squishing your body behind the white arch that separated the kitchen from the dining room. You listened to him working and let your body be surrounded by the enticing smells of his cooking, afraid to let your presence be known in case the robot was mad at you for being late. You were supposed to sweep the snow off the front yard that morning, but incredibly, you had messed up and slept in.

Peeking around the corner, into the bright kitchen, you let your curiosity conquer your mind and attemted to get a glimpse of what Sonne was cooking, daring to take a step forward when your eyes couldn’t see what was hiding inside those saucepans and bowls.

The automaton was dressed in fine brown trousers and a cream-colored sweater, layered over a white button up which peeked up from under the collar, paired with his usual black dress shoes. A red apron hugged his front, closing tightly in a perfect knot around his extremely thin waist, but you could bet your head on the fact that no drop or stain would have been found on the red fabric, were you to go and check right in that moment. Your eyes wandered down, to the place where you often found them lingering, enchanted; to the ever-working robot’s hands, which moved with such grace and precision over the kitchen’s counter that you could barely understand what he was doing. Slim and long, the metallic brass-colored fingers looked delicate and kind under the bright lights of the room, but you had seen them lifting furniture and wood logs heavier than you in the past to know better and not be fooled by how gentle they might have looked at first sight. Sonne, in general, looked overall like a pretty delicate automaton, but that had never eased your fears and worries enough to allow you to relax in their presence.

“Would you come in and help me?” he asked, startling you and almost making you lose your balance as you leaned against the arch. You hadn’t expected him to see you so soon, turned around as he was, too! Did the robot have eyes behind his head? Sonne glanced over his shoulder, his pale blue optics fixing on you with all the intensity they always held, and you shivered on the spot.

“So? You’re just going to stand there and do nothing as I cook supper for tonight?” Sonne asked you again, and just then you realized that he wasn’t mad at you for sleeping in, despite the usual cold expression on his face. “Cut some parsley for me, will you? Enough to fill that bowl over there.”

He pointed at an orange bowl sitting on the counter next to him, then he resumed stirring something with a wooden spoon inside the huge pot in front of him. Steam rose up from it, slightly fogging the small, circular glasses sitting on the slight edge of his nose. You were pretty sure that the glasses had been glued to his faceplate, because there was no way they could stay still on his flat features.

Slowly, you began to walk towards him, hesitant to stand too close to his tall frame and get in the way of his work. After a few seconds, you managed to summon the words you needed to express your confusion.

“Aren’t you mad that I didn’t sweep the snow off the porch and yard this morning?” you wondered, and the robot rolled his eyes in his dramatic manner. “I slept in, and…”

“No, I’m not,” replied Sonne, “Wash the parsley before cutting it, and remember to make sure it’s finely minced, or Basil will refuse to eat and start to pick at it.”

You hadn’t forgotten about the little picky eater, but that didn’t answer your question.

“So… It’s not a problem if I woke up, like, fifteen minutes ago?” you continued, and once more the automaton sighed, annoyed.

“Do you seriously think I’d force you to wake up and work on Christmas Eve?” Sonne asked, turning around to send you an offended glare, “Yesterday you went to sleep late after helping mein Mondlicht in the library, so it’s only fair we’d allow you to sleep in this morning. I’m not a monster, liebling.”

After that last sentence, you felt a little bad for assuming the worst about your employer, but at the same time he had proved to be quite cruel in the past, so you weren’t entirely in the wrong. Shrugging, you went to stand next to him, grabbing a handful of parsley and moving it to the sink to wash.

“Mondlicht took care of the yard and porch a few hours ago,” Sonne explained, resuming his previous task and turning around, giving you his back once more, “Which means that you can stop moping around and help me out in the kitchen to prepare for tonight.”

“What are we making?” you asked him, taking out a knife from one of the drawers. At your question, the automaton hummed gently, like your curiosity had pleased him greatly.

“Since last year we followed the German tradition, this Christmas we’re going with the Italian one. You wouldn’t know, since this is your first Christmas with us, but it's common in this household to take turns on who gets to cook for the other,” replied the automaton, leaving your side to go and open the fridge to take out some butter. “I’m cooking for mein Mondlicht a dish from his hometown: creamed codfish with polenta.”

As you began to cut the freshly washed parsley, you stole a glance in Sonne’s direction, not missing the little smile on his face and the shine in his eyes; a shine you had seen on very few occasions, and never directed towards you. He looked happy just at the thought of cooking for his family.

“What if I said that I’d rather not eat fish?” you grinned, bringing your eyes back on the knife, “Would Moon hit me on the head for not following his tradition?”

You didn’t hear Sonne moving closer to you, in fact, you didn’t even see his shadow looming over you before his hands were grabbing yours, stopping your movements, and his chest was pressed against your back.

“Of course not,” he replied, taking hold of both your hands and carefully beginning to maneuver them on the cutting board, correcting your stance and showing you the proper way to mince herbs. All the while, you were staring down at his fingers entwined with yours with wide eyes, unblinking, unable to even breathe as the robot’s voice rumbled against the back of your skull. “Me and Moonie love to teach the little ones about all the interesting traditions of our different cultures, but that’s not where we stop. They’re such smart little humans, they’re always eager for more, so more is what we give them. We cook dishes from France, Belgium, Turkey, Spain; what’s wrong with adding another? I’m sure we’d easily find something you’d enjoy as well, liebling.”

Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you could barely be able to hear the robot’s words over it. You weren’t sure, at first, if your sudden panic was caused by fear or embarrassment, but you found out quickly which one of the two it was when Sonne chuckled and your face turned a deep shade of pink. With amusement, the brass automaton took a step back, releasing your hands from his hold, and watched as you blinked a few times to regain your composure.

“I’m sure you can go on from here without my help,” he said, smiling, even though you were visibly more lost than before, “Given that you have carefully watched and learned from my demonstration.”

Still blushing, you looked up at him over your shoulder, involuntarily letting him know with your large, panicked eyes that you hadn’t followed his advice at all. With a theatrical sigh, Sonne pushed you aside and took place on the cutting board next to you, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and then taking out a second knife from the drawer on his right.

“Alright, I’ll show you once more,” he declared, tilting his head back to stare down at you like he often did, “Don’t get distracted this time though. Understood?”

Silently, you nodded, and that seemed to be enough for Sonne.

“Good,” he hummed, “Hope you’re actually the fast learner you claim to be in your resume.”

Happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate <3

Mein Mondlicht= my moonlight

Liebling= darling/dear

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hannahssimblr · 6 months ago

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The marquee holds extraordinary heat. It reminds me of the family holiday I took with Maureen and her kids to Florida, that phenomenal, stupefying heat, and the air like soup. I felt too tired to do anything but swim around in the resort pool for those two weeks, but that was the whole point. We went to laze about. I bobbed on a big yellow pool floater while the others slept on the deck chairs until the sun dipped over Daytona Beach and it was bearable enough to move again.

Here, light permeates through polyester walls, diffusing a blue hue, and the air is constrictive like a panic attack. It smells too, of hot plastic and grass, and all the people who didn’t queue for the showers this morning.

“It’s gross in here,” I comment, bellowing already because every voice in the whole marquee bounces off the walls and raises the volume to incomparable levels.

Joe laughs and makes fun of my accent for Kasper’s benefit. “Gross, man, totally freakin’ gross, my dude.”

“Do you want to stay or go?”

“It’s Crystal Castles!”

“Okay, so, stay?”

“Yeah, duh.” With a hand on my back, Joe propels me into the crowd, where we push through, closer and closer to the front. The atmosphere is so unpleasant, so hot, so stuffy, and even though I’ve been drinking all afternoon, my head still twists with unwanted thoughts. I feel my phone vibrate.

It’s Jen, as expected.

Where are you? We’re going to see Slash now. Also, Evie has asked where you are a few times.

I shove it back into my shorts pocket, and something crinkles against my hand.

Ah. I had forgotten about this.

I subtly pull out the baggie from yesterday, the one from Weed Alison, and turn it over in my hand. I know I shouldn’t, that I tell everyone who asks me that don’t do any of this anymore, but these little pink pills lure me in like a siren. They hold promises of escapism, if only just for an hour.

And then, what didn’t even seem like an option yesterday seems almost sensible today.

“Hey, do you want one?” I ask Joe, “you and Kasper. I’ve three.”

He cranes his neck. “What’s that?”

“Ket.”

“Oh, I’ve never done that.”

“You want to try it?”

He looks to Kasper for reassurance, and his friend shrugs noncommittally. “Well, what’s it like?”

“Pretty strange.”

“Okay,” he says. I tip two tablets into his palm and one, the last, into my mouth.

He winces as we dry-swallow. “Ugh, it’s disgusting.”

I suppress a cough. “Did you expect gourmet?”

“I didn’t expect pure shite.”

“Well, it’s probably worth it.”

“Probably?”

As I watch the stage, I eagerly anticipate the moment my soul separates from my body while the roadies prepare. Once the gig starts, the ground begins to sway like a fairground ride. It’s the same thrill too, the same loss of control as when you’re floating through the air, when the floor gives way beneath your feet and you’re weightless, like something caught on the wind.

“Woah.” Joe cries at one point, and I am viewing both him and Kasper through a fisheye lens. I just laugh, because everything is silly, and nothing matters the way it did this morning. Thoughts derail like train carriages tipped off the line, and my brain emerges from a pool of cool water, washed clean of every thought that has ever held significance in my whole life.

I was sceptical of Ketamine once, back before I understood it, and clung tightly to the edgy, but familiar high I got from cocaine. It was Alison who gave me some at a house party last summer, my first bump, and with plasticine limbs we danced in the kitchen to someone’s dad’s CD collection, with a sense that we could do whatever we liked, and it wouldn’t be weird. I hadn’t felt that way since I was nine.

Kaleidoscopic lights mesmerise me in the marquee. The music is strange, but perhaps it is supposed to be. All music is strange, if you think about it. Who decides which beats and melodies sound good, anyway? How do we know that? The singer decides to crowd surf and comes close enough for me to touch her boot. It would be funny if I took it off. This is a fact. I lank at the laces while Kasper laughs, this maniacal, unselfconscious laugh, and I join in. I don’t know what I’ll do with the boot once it’s off, but it’s the funniest possible thing to do. Maybe I’ll display it in my college apartment one day, say it belonged to Alice Glass, and have to argue with everyone that doesn’t believe me.

“I feel weird.” Joe says.

“That’s good.”

“No, I think- I feel wrong.”

“It’s not wrong. Don’t make it wrong.”

“I feel wrong,” and I look at him, with his pitch black eyes panicked, and then he heaves.

And he bolts out of the crowd.

“Oh.” I look at Kasper, and him at me, and realise my teeth are sweating. “Do you think it’s bad ket?”

“I don’t know.” He says, and I'm suddenly aware that if I attempt any more words, I will throw them up.

Throwing up in a crowd is not the ideal place to do it, I know this, but it is difficult to escape with legs that feel lead-weighted, when the earth is tilted so dramatically that I am scaling it.

“I’m going to vom.” I announce, and a path clears so quickly that it feels biblical.

I hit the back of the tent, and it goes everywhere. Everywhere. It splashes on my shoes and up the walls, and Joe is there too, my partner in crime, vomiting just as violently as I am. I wonder if I should pat him on the back, or give him a high five, or something.

By the time Kasper falls in line and completes our trio, security is already on us, and all that seemed so easy and funny before now fills me with unspeakable dread.

“Outside,” one barks, grabbing fistfuls of my t-shirt and hauling me toward the door. “You’re pissed.”

“No,” I protest hoarsely, “We’re fine.”

Kasper retches again, inspiring another wave of nausea within me.

“Fuck sake!” the bouncer cries as I get sick on his trousers. “Youse are a disgrace. Get out.”

And we find ourselves the grass, lying face up as the clouds drift by, and the world is still tilting, like it wants to slide us right off the face of it.

“Should we do something?” Joe manages.

“Like what?”

“Get a doctor?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I say, before I roll over to the side and throw up in the soil.

Neil, the volunteer nurse, is very kind and patient with me for the time I spend in his company.

“I imagine it’s all out of your system now.” He tells me. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” I sigh, staring up at the ceiling I spent the last hour getting to know. I haven’t been sick since I got here, it seems I yacked it all out on the field, but I have been so thoroughly prodded and poked that I’ve become irritable, bored, even, as time ticks on and the festival rages on outside the flimsy doors of the medical tent. I turn my head to him, in his blue scrubs and the stethoscope he used on me slung around his neck, and the fear of his judgement arrives. It’s how I know the ket is gone. “That’s never happened to me before, by the way. That reaction was a new thing.”

“You said you’ve taken ketamine before?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, at festivals like this, you just don’t know where it’s coming from. It’s everywhere, but it’s so hard to know what exactly you’re getting. Those pills could have been cut with anything.”

I smile weakly. “Are you telling me off?”

“Not really. I’m just letting you know.”

“Cut with what, exactly?”

“Anything.” He reiterates. “I’m talking talcum powder to heroin and everything in between.”

“Ouch.”

He folds his arms and leans against a table. “Do you want to get in touch with a parent or guardian?”

“Is that mandatory?”

“It’s not, but you might find the best thing for you to do now is to get home and rest. You might like to let a parent know what’s happened today.”

I laugh, the kind of hollow, death-rattle of a laugh that could have come from a sick, elderly man. “Tempting, but no thanks. I think I’ll stay.”

Neil’s mouth flattens into a line, and he gives me a nod. “Well, I’ll just advise you to take it easy, right? And if you feel off at any point, please come straight back here. We’re open all night.”

“But in your medical opinion, I’m fine, right?”

“Yes, I think you’re fine.”

“Oh, good.” I sit up in the trolley and plant shaky, stockinged feet on the floor. “Because there are a few more bands I really wanted to see.”

“I understand.” He says, though he looks as though he doesn’t. “But listen.”

I look up.

“Be wise, Jude.”

I laugh and lace up my vomit-splattered shoes. “Neil, I’m always wise.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #this one grossed me out to write #it made me quite queasy #anyway #another shit event #love nurse Neil though #marry me #tw: drugs #tw: ketamine #tw: vomit

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satocidal · 1 year ago

Text

His Spring — Geto Suguru x Reader

It shouldn’t have happened, not really, not at all—not then.

Careful; he should’ve been careful, and alert. For now he sat in the corner of the room, in a part he didn’t want to be at—with people he didn’t know, wearing clothes he watched to tear apart and let his body breathe—but all on top of that, stood you.

“Wanna join me in this party tonight?” Glossed lips and bashful grin—it didn’t take much, or any persuasion for that matter for him agree. Now, he wasn’t sure why he agreed, or if he did at all and you just assumed his dazed nod, something very natural he’s gotten along doing you, to be a yes.

So now he sat alone in the corner, eyes drafting to every movement of yours, your hips swung— left, right,left —he’d been observing you for a while now, anyone observing him would deem him a stalker at this point.

“What is your type in women?” The question rang in his mind again—something, weirdly enough that had been bouncing back into his mind every few days—his type? He’d wondered then, not really sure.

But he knew now, one look at you and he knew what his type was. One look at you and your silly graphic t-shirt of some anime and he knew his favourite fandom; one look at your converse and he knew his next expenditure; one look at your hair and he knew his hands were perfect to braid them; one look at you and he knew, he knew, he wanted to wait.

Wait everything out—in midst of all that was happening, in the midst of a tragedy his eyes had spotted you. Trained themselves to even see you as he slept.

To where his mind once questioned his existence, he now lay wondering if you liked poppies better of roses. To where he once questioned running away, he now knew he’d run away to you. He could run away to you.

Suguru used to feel he was nothing but a sad, lonely, tired winter, trudging along until the better Spring came about—until the spring made people forget of him- until the winter was no more.

Wrong.

But then again, could you blame him at all? In those black sweatshirts and black pants he’d assumed he’d find himself dead- in that cold shivering winter he thought he’d end—in that gloom, he thought, he wouldn’t continue any longer, he couldn’t. He didn’t know, right? He didn’t know, didn’t want to know, if he could at all live to see another Spring.

When he saw you, the question wasn’t to catch a spring or no, but the fact that he managed to and he considered you his achievement, the most prized one. He could sit and deny it to himself, as he’d tried initially but no, he ached for you. Day and night, he ached for you.

So pitifully wrong he knew he was back then, as your form approached him, a grin on your face, “C’mere,” you’d shouted over the music—so wrong he was.

For while you pulled him closer on the dance floor, of a party he disliked, he clung onto you- his dark hair ruffling to your shoulders too—for just then he knew that you were his Spring. You made him forget about his lonely, tired winter, you made him breathe. As you wrapped your hands around his neck and danced close to him, nothing romantic and yet he wouldn’t complain because Suguru lived every moment spent, had it been around you, basking in your Spring.

And as he held you close, supporting himself with you, knowing you loved it too, he smiled.

—

“What’s your favourite colour?” You’d asked with a grin, brows raised and a chart in your hand, “We’re gonna paint your house that colour!”

He’d smiled, and before he could say anything at all, “Wait let me guess,” you chimed in quickly, “Yellow? The light kind,” a smile adored your lips, a squeal bursting to escape and it did too as he nodded with a chuckle.

Your arms found themselves wrapped around him, “I know you so well,” you’d laughed and stared into his eyes—he stared in to yours, knowing all too well that until the word ‘yellow’ had escaped your lips, he was sure he hadn’t known that colour properly at all. And now that you’d said ‘yellow’ he knew he’d fallen in love with a colour too—a colour of life, he’d smiled.

But the truth lay all too bare for until you had said the word ‘yellow’ Suguru hadn’t found his favourite colour at all.

Taglist: @illogicallyx @immurrsed @rizzmin @abitoldschool @bbytamaki

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hischeapcigar · 2 years ago

Text

You don't go to parties anymore

Modern Eddie Munson x ex reader

Summary: Eddie keeps looking for you in his parties

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: angst, mentions of drugs, drunk eddie, curse words, small reference to smut (if you squint)

a/n: this was inspired by the song stuck in my head, “you don't go to parties” by 5sos and obviously i had to do something about it lol. Reblog and comments are appreciated <3 also comment if you want to be tagged in eddie one shots in future. Mwah

Another Friday night, another party. Like a routine, like a spiral. Eddie Munson, big doe eyes were hidden by the bags under his eyes. Hair messed up like he fought a monster. And his well known smile, that everybody was attracted to like a moth to light, was gone with the wind, gone with you.

He doesn't remember when was the last time he slept through the night. He stays up, drinking, distracting him with different things, or parties on friday nights.

Why did he keep throwing these parties every week? He wasn’t sure. But his eyes keep searching for that familiar pair of eyes, those pretty eyes, your eyes.

It was 5 am Saturday morning, and Eddie's apartment was crowded with every person he knew, while he laid on the sofa, drunk. Sweaty bodies are dancing, people are still drinking in the corner while some are passed out on the floor in front of him.

He eyes them carefully, everyone, there’s Nancy and Robin talking about something, Steve is drunk dancing with this blonde girl he can’t remember the name of.

It's 5:00 a.m. clinging to my couch

And everyone I ever knew is standing in my house

Oh, I wonder who I'm looking for

'Cause you don't go to parties anymore

“Eddie! It was my turn,” you whined as you reached out, snatching the joint from his lips. He chuckled as he watched you bring it to your lips, taking a deep breath. To say he adored you was an understatement.

You both lied, on your backs, in his bed, taking turns smoking the joint. It was midnight and you had snuck out of your house to jump in Eddie’s car. Now you both were here, spread out on Eddie's bed, smoke surrounding you.

He turned to face you and draped his arm lazily around you pulling you flush against him,

“You’ve had enough, baby,” he whispers, gently taking the joint from your fingers and slightly getting up to smash the butt of the cigarette in the ashtray.

“I can handle, eds” your voice was dreamy, low and distant. Your mind was in higher clouds, the ceiling was your window to the galaxy as you watched the shooting stars.

He hummed, pressing his lips to your jaw. Eyes droopy, you both faced the ceiling, sides pressed to each other, hallucinating a whole new world until you passed out.

I still think about the times we were heavy

Racehorse tripping on the dirt that you got on me

Vultures spinning up above for what's left of me

We go stupid every night, what a tragedy

Eddie’s mind started to darken with each passing minute, as every memory of you haunted his brain. He felt a pang in his heart, begging and praying to see you one more time. Just one more time.

He looked at every corner of his house where he fucked you relentlessly, he looked at the balcony where you stood up all night to watch the sunrise together,

His lips started to tremble at the surge of memories, each one hitting him close to home. His mind was foggy, he was losing it. Like he always did everytime he let his mind wander to you, always back to you.

I'm still here in the darkness

Back where we started

You make me a heartless monster

I'm caught up in distractions

Fatal attractions

I'm starting to come undone

A part of him wanted to kick everyone out, he was tired, the voices in his mind too loud. He glanced, once again, at the bodies, hoping that you were there, hoping he overlooked your figure the first time.

And now it's 5:00 a.m. clinging to my couch

And everyone I ever knew is standing in my house

Oh, I wonder who I'm looking for

'Cause you don't go to parties anymore

His eyes zeroed at the girl, whose back resembles yours. He stood up abruptly, seeing stars immediately, he shook his head to focus. Stumbling, he made his way to her. A bottle of wine clutched in his hand tightly.

He tapped her shoulder,

I'll talk to y/n. I’ll make it okay, we’ll be fine, this is it. I’m sorry y/n, give me one more chance, give us one more chance.

She turned around, and his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of a random person. She wasn’t you. Of course you wouldn’t be here

He nodded and smiled, or tried to, before he raised his bottle to her. She politely shook her head ‘no’.

A string of curses left his mouth as he shifted his weight and leaned on the wall on the side. The girl immediately shifted her attention from her friends to him.

“Hey, are you doing well?” she asked, obviously interested

“Hmm” he nodded, bring the mouth of the bottle to his lips, taking a swig

“You know i, uh, recently broke up with the most beautiful girl ever,” he slurred

She looked taken aback, she didn’t expect this. Anything but this.

“We, uh, were together for 5 years,” his pitch went high for the last part that he uttered

“I thought you were her, but you can never be her” he chuckled, shaking his head, gulping the wine.

“Excuse me?” she was furious,

“Yeah… y/n…y/n was the best part of my life” his bloodshot eyes were distant as if mentally he’s still in the memory

“She used to make me laugh on my worst days and-” his words fell short as he saw the woman had gone away.

He shook his head, he really was losing it

I got the last five years running out my mouth

Always stay too late, I should kick me out

Oh, I wonder who I'm looking for

'Cause you don't go to parties anymore

“Watch your words, Munson” you threatened, your voice shook despite the efforts of keeping it strong

“I’m fucking done, y/n, i can’t do this, you want too much” his voice raised slightly

“Too much? Asking for your fucking time is ‘too much’? You elevated your pitch to match his

Another day, another argument, like a routine, like a spiral. y/n’s big pretty eyes with tears swimming at the edge, dangerously close to falling.

“I think it's time to put an end to this relationship,” eddie stated, devoid of any emotion

And there came all your tears, pouring on your cheeks as the words rang in your ears.

You wanted to reach out to him, hold him, tell him you’ll make it through together, that this is just a rough patch.

But you stood there still as you watched him walk out the door.

He covered his ears with his hands as he headed for the balcony, running away from the bodies, from the loud music, from himself. His own last words to you haunting his mind, he wanted to scream to silence everything.

He spotted Argyle and Jonathan being only physically here, their minds wandered off when they sniffed the powder. He walked up to them, seating himself beside them, reaching for the pills and crushing them on the table.

Lost my limit 'cause I'm dumb and I'm passionate

Took my foot off of the break, it's not an accident

All my friends are up on Mars, we've been traveling

Another lonely night

“In time we’ll build a home for two” Eddie blurted out as you both hiked up the small hill.

“Eddie! You’re being-” your breaths were ragged

“You can tell me i’m being corny, but it still won’t make me sorry,” he cut you off, grinning widely as he looked at you, nothing but admiration in his eyes

“Don’t you think about our future?” he wondered out loud,

“Of course, i do, all the time” you think about the nights where you think about two of you when you can't sleep

“Yeah but i have a feeling you’ll have enough of my dramatic ass and leave me,” he teased

You glared at him. You both knew you hated whenever he brought up ‘you leaving him’ because you loved him too much to choose something else over him.

Ironic. How fucking ironic.

He glanced back at the crowd which had shrunken. He scanned the room from the balcony once more before he let the powder get a hold of his mind

And now it's 5:00 a.m. clinging to my couch

And everyone I ever knew is standing in my house

Oh, I wonder who I'm looking for

'Cause you don't go to parties anymore

The sun had started to rise, the sky displaying beautiful colors. He smiled at the scenery, remembering how you used to get lost in the beauty of it all.

“y/n used to love it so much,” he revealed to the boys beside him, but they were too high to listen to him. That didn’t stop him, only encouraged him

They’re not listening, I'll pretend they are

And so he did. He rambled on and on about you. Anything he could remember about your relation, he voiced it, good or bad.

He kept talking and sniffing the powder.

Again

Then again

And once more

Until he blacks out.

He doesn’t remember anything except the sky burning auburn, cocaine powder all over the table, your voice in head and then-

He opened his eyes, vision still blurry as he tried to get up. His hand reaching on the other side of the bed, seeking your warmth, like a habit. He winced at the coldness that resided there.

He was in his room, in the same clothes as last night.

His head hurt so bad like someone banged his head against the wall. He tried to get out of the bed when he saw Steve entering the room with a glass of water in his hand.

“You gotta pick yourself up buddy,” steve said

“I-” his voice was hoarse, mouth dry.

Steve handed him the glass, which he gulped like a thirsty man in the desert. Steve took a seat beside him, legs dangling.

“It was worse this time, eddie” steve tried to get his attention,

Eddie’s gaze was stuck at his door,

Maybe you’d enter, laughing. Maybe you decided to return to him. Maybe just maybe he could have a second chance. Maybe this was all a bad dream,

Steve’s voice pulled him from his daydreams,

“your nose was bleeding, man, you gotta sober up, just try and get over her”

In a beat, he replied, “i don't want to get over her, Steve”

You

Just the mention of you has him talking. Talking non stop about what you two were, what you two could have been

I got the last five years running out my mouth

Always stay too late, I should kick me out

Oh, I wonder who I'm looking for

'Cause you don't go to parties anymore

His chatter was cut short when Steve’s phone rang, which he attended walking out the door.

Eddie was left alone with his thoughts. He turned and extended his hand to get a hold of his phone.

Once in his grip, he opened your chat, re-reading the countless texts he sent you.

“Please come home” he sent one more, like every other day.

Eddie put the phone away as he saw Steve approaching him with his phone extended to Eddie, “its y/n”

Eddie couldn't believe his ears, or eyes or anything, he wasn't registering the situation. He scrambled on the bed, practically leaping out to meet steve’s phone half way, as he practically snatch it and placed it on his ears,

“y/n?” his voice was shaky, his body was trembling

“Eddie?”

Oh, I wonder who I'm looking for

'Cause you don't go to parties anymore

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theyellowroseofsodor · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 3 - Rails of Gold

Note: I am making a Master List of all the chapters on my pinned post about the blog. It's located at the bottom, but that way you can find each chapter easy. Hope this helps!

Camille had slept fairly soundly that night after talking with both Emily and Edward. Her phone alarm woke her up at 5:15. She sat up and stretched, looking around the unfamiliar room. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she tripped out of the sheets before grabbing a nice looking blouse and slacks, a small jewelry bag and what little makeup she had. Whether today went swimmingly or not, she was bound and determined to look good.

She emerged from her room and went to the bathroom. Locking it behind her she proceeded to shower and clean herself up. She grabbed her phone and earbuds, turning on anything pop or dance to boost herself up. She looked herself over after some time and after fixing her hair back in a hairband, she took a deep breath, removed the earbuds and headed out.

As she entered the kitchen, Edward and Emily were there to greet her dressed in dress clothes that matched their livery with their number sewn on the breast.

“Good morning, Camille. Have a good sleep?” Emily asked.

Camille smiled and nodded, “Better than I have in a while. Although, I did feel a bit bad that Gordon never came in.”

Edward chuckled, “Like I told you last night, Gordon is undoubtedly fine. He’s not usually someone you will ever have to worry about.”

Emily snickered, “Unless he gets stuck on his hill.”

“What’s that mean?” Camille asked.

The two of the bigger engines began to laugh. Edward spoke up, “That’s a story that’s better for after work.”

James jumped directly behind Camille with a “boo!” just then causing the smaller engine to yelp and duck.

“James!” Edward scolded.

Camille smiled with a laugh and turned to her would-be attacker, “Oh you wanna play games, do you?”

James grinned, happy with her response, “You ready for your first day, newbie?”

Camille responded with a confident look, “Bring it on, Johnny Red.”

“How are all of you so energetic in the mornings?” yawned a sleepy Thomas, his blue hair a mess going everywhere.

James looked at Thomas in disgust, “Aren’t you going to fix your hair?”

Thomas shook his head, his beach boy style hair swishing around, “What does it matter if I do it now or not? It’s not like the passengers ever see.”

“He’s got a point.” Edward said, taking a sip of his drink.

James scrunched his nose and went to grab himself a cup of coffee. Emily nodded towards the coffee pot, “Would you like a cup?”

Camille shook her head, “I don’t drink coffee, thanks though.”

Thomas smiled, “I don’t like it either. Gordon drinks it black.” He stuck his tongue out.

“I don’t like the jitters and then I’m crazy silly giggly after a while. Makes me too hyper.” Camille laughed, “However, I will drink an energy drink on occasion for special circumstances.”

“What circumstances would that be?” James asked.

Camille shrugged, “Going to a dance, maybe going to the roller rink, just hanging out with friends.”

The four engines looked at her a little confused, “What’s a roller rink?”

“Y’know, it’s a slick floor where you can just rollerblade, or in our case, roll around on our wheels. It’s a big circle, people race, or dance. There’s usually a snack bar and a few tables.”

They all looked at her blankly.

Camille seemed a little shocked, “Really? No one?”

Emily shook her head, “Never had anything like that here on Sodor.”

“Oh my gosh, you guys are missing out. Maybe we could make something like that. It’s so much fun.”

Thomas nodded, “It sounds like it! A place to just relax and hang out.”

“I like the idea of showing off my moves.” James said with a small dance.

Edward glanced at his watch and grabbed his coat, “Time to go.”

The three with drinks put their now empty cups in the sink and headed down the stairs to the front door. Thomas and Camille followed. Edward turned around by the front door, trying to fix Thomas’ hair a little. Thomas griped at him with a mumble of, “I’m fine, dad.” James snickered.

Heading down the stairs they met a rather tall male engine dressed in black suit with gold trim and the number 51 on one breast and the name Hiro on the other.

Camille blinked at his height thinking to herself ‘There seem to be a lot of large engines here.’

“Good Morning Hiro.” Emily said with a smile, “Come here with Henry last night?”

The Japanese engine smiled kindly at her, “Good morning, Emily and all of you. Yes, it was beginning to storm with spring here and I would rather Henry not be out there by himself.”

“That’s very kind of you, Hiro. I’m sure Henry loved and appreciated having the company.” Edward said.

Hiro nodded and noticed Camille, “Oh my! I didn’t expect to see a new face today. I apologize for not introducing myself, I am Hiro.”

Camille smiled back, “Hello Hiro, I’m Camille.”

“They call him The Master of the Railway.” Thomas told her.

Hiro laughed, “That they do, but I promise I am very kind.” He smiled at her. It felt so genuine and soft that Camille couldn’t help but feel brighter being around him, “If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.” He held the door open for the others.

There were those words again. It felt like everyone was doing their best to make her feel welcome. Camille felt comfortable and happy standing with the others. No hesitation to ask anything at all.

“I won’t. Thank you so much for your kindness.” Camille said, exiting the manor.

As she walked to the sheds, she saw Gordon and his team getting ready. Everyone began to shift, ready for their fireboxes to be lit and to get to work. Camille watched as each found a berth, greeting their driver and firemen. She felt that familiar feeling of her heart racing and the butterflies forming in her belly. Even though most everyone had been kind to her and were genuinely friendly, she couldn’t help feeling nervous.

“Camille, over here!”

She turned to see Edan and Dallas beside the shed. She smiled and ran up to them.

“Ready for the day, lass?” Edan asked.

“I hope so.” She said honestly with a grin.

They nodded and gave her space to shift. For whatever reason, shifting to her engine form this time reminded her of the first time she had ever done so. It was such an odd tingling feeling as her body reorganized and changed itself into the new shape. She remembered being afraid that it would hurt, but the gold dust that surrounded her calmed all anxieties she had, almost like the feeling of a warm hug. Over time it had felt no different from walking or driving, it had become a part of her. Today though, that warm hug feeling came back. She blinked away teary emotions as the thought crossed her mind that it was her builder, her father, giving her a hug on this big important first day.

Feeling her wheels on the rails, Camille gave a little shake and threw her doors open for Edan and Dallas.

“That’s new.” Edan chuckled.

“What?” She asked, concerned.

“Not very many engines open their doors for their workers, it was just a nice change.” Dallas told her.

“Well, I’m not like very many engines.” Camille replied proudly. She felt the warmth of her fire starting and the familiar feeling of having someone in her cab.

The men laughed. “No, Camille, you are not.”

A whistle, deep and loud sounded. Gordon had entered the turntable and was leaving first.

“Express coming through!” He shouted.

Camille cocked an eyebrow as she drove forward next to Thomas, “Why would he say that? He doesn’t even have his coaches connected to him.”

Thomas laughed, “Gordon is a very proud engine and he likes to let everyone know it.”

She rolled her eyes with a laugh, “Oh oh-kay.”

Each engine took their turns on the turntable and drove away from Tidmouth sheds. Camille followed Thomas to the yard to get the coaches ready for everyone. She looked around excited and nervous. Everything was hustle and bustle.

She ended up on the rails next to Thomas, looking around at her new working grounds, “Welcome to Knapford Station, Camille!”

“It’s so busy!” Camille said.

“You’ll get used to it, don't worry.” Thomas laughed, “But first we’re going to get everyone’s coaches and cars ready. I’ll get–”

Before Thomas could finish speaking, the loud poop poop of Gordon’s whistle blew, “THOMAAAASSS!!” he thundered.

Thomas looked irritated and defeated all at once. He sighed annoyed, “First, let’s take care of Gordon before he blows a gasket.”

Camille laughed, “We’re not even late, are we?”

“No, we’re not.” Thomas led the way to the coaches, “I’ll grab Sir Proudbutt his coaches if you’ll get James his goods train for today. We’re already on the right rails to do so.”

Thomas stopped suddenly though upon seeing the troublesome trucks on Camille’s rail, “On second thought,” he reversed, “Why don’t you take the coaches to Gordon? Those trucks are known for being trouble and I would rather you not have to deal with them on your first day.”

If Camille could’ve shrugged, she would have. She allowed Thomas to pull in front of her and then headed towards the express coaches. After being coupled, she heaved and hoe’d as she got used to their weight, pushing them towards the big engine. She noticed steam hissing from Gordon impatiently and decided it was probably best to be kind instead of getting irritated.

“Sorry Gordon! Thomas didn’t want me grabbing the trucks and so I had to switch tracks to get to your coaches.” She was uncoupled and Gordon’s passengers climbed aboard.

Gordon was flustered. He still didn’t exactly know how to approach Camille with the new information Percy had shared to him and Henry last night, “Ah, er.. Thank you, regardless, Camille.”

“You’re good to go, big boy!” She said with a grin as she watched the last of the passengers board, and she backed down the tracks to get back to Thomas.

A light dusting of pink colored Gordon’s cheeks at the nickname. Again, he had no idea how to respond to her. The guard at the side snickered at Gordon’s blushing and then quickly turned away when Gordon glared at him. The guard blew his whistle, signaling Gordon’s departure. Gordon whistled proudly and left.

“Express coming through!” He shouted once again.

Camille, in the yard, heard him and couldn’t help but laugh, “Now this is when it makes sense to say that.”

Thomas had returned from helping James with his coaches and was coupled to Annie and Clarabell, “Annie, Clarabell, this is Camille. She’s our newest teammate.”

The two coaches seemed very pleased with seeing the new engine.

“How do you do, my dear? I am Annie-”

“-and I am Clarabell. It’s so nice to see another young lady on the lines I will say.”

Camille nodded, “A pleasure meeting you ladies too. Sodor is a wonderful place from what I’ve seen and I can’t help but think I’ll be very happy here. Thomas has been very kind to help me out.”

The coaches chuckled and with a smile said, “Our Thomas will take great care of you, we assure you. He’ll do his absolute best.”

Thomas blushed at their kind words. Camille smiled, it was nice seeing an engine and his coaches get along.

“Actually, Camille. This is where my shift with you ends and Percy’s begins. I have to head to the next station.” Thomas said a bit sadly, “If I could stay longer I would.”

Percy pulled up with a pip and smiled, “Don’t worry Thomas! I’ll take good care of Camille.”

Camille smiled, “It’s OK, Thomas. I’m not a newbuild, I’ll be alright with Percy. We will catch up later.”

Thomas grinned at her and his best friend, “Alright then you two! I’ll see you around!” and with that he whistled and left.

Camille and Percy watched him leave and then smiled at each other, “Ready to clean up the yard?”

“This place could use a bit of feminine touch, I do think so.” Camille responded.

Percy laughed, “Let’s get this place running ship shape, as Salty would say.”

They began to move cars and clean up. They were doing well when Camille couldn’t help but ask, “Hey Percy? Who’s Salty?”

—-

Camille was fairly tired when the day was coming to a close. Even though the engines would take breaks and had their own break area to chat and talk about their individual days, Camille wanted to do her very best and kept her nose to the grindstone as it were.

Edward and Emily had both complimented her on her work but reminded her to take a few breathers every now and then. It was going on 3 when she finally decided to take their advice. In the break room, there were couches, a coffee table, a small kitchenette and in the corner of the room a hammock.

Camille was beginning to wonder if the hammock had magical properties as it seemed that each break there it was taunting her with the thought of a nap. This time she gave in. She laid in the rather large hammock with a happy groan.

“Ohhhhh yeah…” She rested her head on the blue Nor’Western Railway pillow. This almost felt better than the bed she had slept on last night.

She heard Thomas and Percy laughing from outside the break room. As they entered the room, they glanced at Camille and immediately stopped laughing.

Percy looked a little panicked, “Camille, you can’t nap there.”

Camille opened one eye, “What? Why not? Edward told me earlier that I could take a small nap if I wanted.”

“Yeah on the couch.” Thomas said, glancing out the window to the station, “Not the hammock.”

“Why not the hammock?” she grumbled, sitting up and sitting pretzel style.

Percy yelped, “Ahh! Don’t put your shoes on it!”

Camille panicked as well, “OK, OK, OK. Shoes off.” She removed her shoes but didn’t get off, “What’s the deal with this hammock? Sir Topham Hatt doesn’t relax here so….?”

“It’s Gordon’s hammock and Gordon doesn’t like others touching his things.” Thomas explained.

Camille sighed and rolled her eyes, “Of course it belongs to grumpy gus.”

“Yeah and Gordon has a tendency to…punish those who mess with him or his stuff.” Percy mumbled.

Camille looked between the two, “Like…what?”

“He drug me around the island when I was pretty new here.” Thomas said with a blush, scratching his cheek with a single finger. “I um… Well I was teasing him and I kept waking him up from his naps because, well, I didn’t nap and felt like he didn’t really need to.” He chuckled when he looked at Camille sheepishly, “Let’s just say he took off with the express before I could be uncoupled.”

“Oh gosh….!” Camille said, “That sounds… less than fun.”

Thomas chuckled again, “Yeah that’s one way to put it.”

They all laughed but were silenced once they heard Gordon’s familiar whistle.

“Get off, get off, get off.” Percy panic whispered.

Camille went to jump out but her leg and wheel got caught in the holes of the hammock as she hopped out. She flopped upside down on her face. Percy panicked and Thomas rushed over to help her get unstuck. The heavy footsteps of Gordon’s boots were getting closer. He couldn’t see what was happening inside as it was one-way glass for privacy of the engines.

Percy jumped for the couch and hid himself in a nearby magazine. Thomas continued to try to get Camille untangled as she looked at him with a look that screamed HELP.

It was too late though, the door swung open. Gordon groaned, his eyes closed as he removed his hat and massaged the back of his neck. When he opened them, he was taken aback. There was Thomas kneeling next to Camille, his hands wrapped around her ankle, and there was Camille, upside down half on the floor, her blouse slowly rolled up her torso exposing her stomach. She was blushing madly, Thomas was gaping at Gordon silently. Percy tried to melt into the couch.

“Ha ha ha…. Hi Gordon…” Thomas said, breaking the silence.

Camille twitched, she felt like a seagull trapped in a net. She tried to do a pull up and untangle herself once more only to fall back helplessly. She closed her eyes, wishing death could claim her from this embarrassing situation. She resigned herself to its cold embrace, thinking of all the ways this day had just gone wrong. She couldn’t look him in the eyes and decided to cover her face with her hands.

She went to the If I can’t see him, he can’t see me mentality. She heard his heavy steps approach her and Thomas. Thomas backed up, letting Gordon closer, “It was an accident Gordon, she didn’t know that this was your hammock.”

Gordon didn’t respond. Camille could feel him standing over her and shrunk backwards towards the floor to the best of her abilities.

She made a surprised noise when she realized Gordon was leaning over and helping untangle her from the roped mess. She peeked through her fingers as she felt him touch her ankle and unwrap the ropes and then her wheel. He even carefully lowered the rest of her body to the floor.

Camille sat up, “Ummm… Thank you, Gordon. I wouldn’t have laid down if I had known. Thomas and Percy showed up after I had fallen asleep.”

Gordon looked at her quietly and then at Thomas and Percy, who quickly turned away from the two.

“I… wanted to apologize for how…brash I was last night.” He held out his hand to help her up, which she took, “I overheard Sir Topham Hatt talking with Edward today about how pleased he was with your work today. He said that you really cleaned up the yard and he was happy with how useful you were.”

Camille realized she hadn’t blinked in a while and then smiled at the big engine, “Well, thank you Gordon. I appreciate the apology.” She looked down at her hands nervously before looking at him, “I owe you an apology too. I was nervous and the past couple of days before coming to Sodor were… less than agreeable. I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you. I’m also sorry.”

She turned from him and brushed off some dirt that had been left over from her heels and straightened the pillow back. She moved out of his way and beamed again, “It’s all yours!”

As he sat down, she made her way back to the door, “I should probably get back to being useful again.” She accidentally bumped her elbow on the doorknob and chuckled, embarrassed, before exiting and running back to the yard.

Gordon just stared at the door after her. He contemplated all that had just happened, unsure of what to make of it. He shook his head and went to lay down when he felt eyes on his back.

He scowled and looked at Thomas and Percy who seemed to be in shock.

“What are you two little engines looking at?”

Thomas glared at his tone while Percy spoke up, “You didn’t get mad at her. You normally get all bent out of shape with any of us that lay in your hammock. Like James, who you spun out of it just the other week.”

Gordon grumbled, “She’s new. She didn’t know any better.” He laid down and put his hat over his face, shielding it from the light.

Thomas and Percy just looked at each other and shrugged before heading to the kitchenette for some snacks. Thomas did smack Percy on the back of the head though.

“What was that for?” Percy asked, astonished.

Thomas grumbled, “You were less than helpful for that whole ordeal.”

Percy giggled a little, “When it comes to Gordon and his anger, sometimes it’s survival of the fittest. Or those who melt into couches anyway.”

—-

Earlier that day

Gordon had been sitting at the Vicarstown station waiting as passengers loaded and unloaded. His day had gone pretty well, all things considered. He was even thinking about a small nap there when he heard the familiar whistle of his brother.

He groaned and rolled his eyes as the engine backed his train down the platform next to him. The Flying Scotsman grinned at his brother when he hissed to a stop.

“Hello Gordon! Fancy meeting you here.”

“We see each other almost every day, Scotsman.” He grumbled.

“And yet, you never seem happy to see me.” Scotsman pouted playfully, “Don’t you love me?”

Gordon scoffed and rolled his eyes, causing the other engine to laugh.

“Alright, Gordon, you’ll be happy to know I’m not going to tease you so much today. I’m wanting to hear how Spitfire’s first day is going, if you know any details.” The big green engine said with a grin.

“Spitfire?” Gordon asked, confused.

Scotsman rolled his eyes, “Camille! The new engine on your team! She was a lot of fun to talk to and be around yesterday, I was hoping I’d hear from her at least at some point today.”

Gordon seemed a bit guilty at the mention of Camille. It wasn’t lost on Scotsman. He gave his brother a disappointed look, “What did you do?”

Gordon came right out of his funk and glared at Scotsman, “Why are you accusing me of doing something? I’ve hardly spoken to the girl.”

Scotsman sighed, “Well, I hope you treated her better than you treat me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh Gordon, you know full well we aren’t on the best of terms because of some sort of rivalry you’ve established between the two of us.” Scotsman thought for a second, “You didn’t treat her poorly because of her fame did you?”

Gordon was becoming annoyed at the interrogation, “No! Of course not! She’s not even that famous!”

“But you did call her a little engine and you also made fun of her size.” Thomas said, pulling up. He wasn’t about to let Gordon get off so easily, “You could’ve really hurt her feelings.”

Gordon growled at Thomas and then looked back at his brother who was sternly looking at him. He hated that, when Scotsman seemed to think that he needed to lecture him. Him! His older brother, no matter how big Scotsman may think he was.

“I’m going to apologize.” He directed towards Scotsman, ignoring Thomas, “I… wasn’t informed of her situation until afterwards.”

“What situation?” Thomas asked.

“That’s none of your concern.” Gordon growled.

“Oh, but it’s yours?” Thomas retorted.

“It’s alright, Thomas.” Scotsman said calmly, “Not many people know about Camille’s situation and I’m sure however Gordon came upon this information, it was through the proper channels.”

Gordon winced inwardly thinking of how he was informed by Percy of all engines. But that got Thomas to stop pestering him and he puffed away.

Scotsman glanced at his brother, “Gordon, I think the two of us know better than any engine on this island how important family is and how things can be easily…upset.”

Gordon stayed quiet, not wanting to remember the other siblings he and Scotsman had shared. None of them got along with each of the two living Gresley’s but it was still a subject Gordon would like to have kept taboo.

“I never said anything about her family or her upbringing, but I did say something… stupid nonetheless.” Gordon confessed, “I didn’t know how alone she was and how that would have affected her.”

“Tell me all you did was tease her about her size.” Scotsman said.

“I may have said something along those lines…and her usefulness as a small engine.” Gordon responded through gritted teeth.

“Not your best moment, little brother.”

That got Gordon chuffing and spluttering, “Would you stop calling me that? We’re practically the same size and you’re the younger brother.”

Scotsman smirked and stuck his chin out, “Younger. Not littler.”

The green tender engine laughed as his brother spluttered some more, “But in all seriousness Gordon, please be nice to her. At least try, for me?”

Gordon looked at his brother, confused, “What is she to you? You’ve hardly known her.”

Scotsman looked away with a far off smile, “Yes, that’s true. But I also remember what it was like to be separated from my family and what it’s like to feel the pressure of everyone knowing your name.”

Gordon was quiet, listening to his brother. He didn’t often talk about his time in America unless it was to boast, but he was stuck there for a while and whether Gordon liked to admit it or not there had been a time when he worried he would never see his younger brother again. It was a very real possibility that Camille was experiencing something similar.

“She talks a big talk and she’s a perky little thing, but I also know all too well that that kind of personality can be the biggest cover up.” Scotsman finished.

Gordon pondered that statement for a second, “Do you ever feel that way, Scotsman?”

When his brother didn’t answer, Gordon pushed a little, “Scot?”

Scotsman just grinned at his brother as the guard whistled, “That’s my signal, Gordon. We’ll talk next time.”

He whistled loudly as Gordon watched his brother with mild concern.

The big grin on Scotsman 's face never left, “Flying Scotsman coming through!!” He winked and with that, he left.

Gordon watched him leave, feeling like now he had more to apologize for then before. The whistle for him to leave sounded shortly after and he drove back in silence.

#ttte #ttte humanized #ttte fanfic #ttte gordon #ttte james #ttte edward #ttte oc #ttte henry #fanfiction update #ttte the flying scotsman #ttte emily #ttte thomas #ttte percy

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lilpumkin · 1 year ago

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Kard ot4 🃏

fluff

———

you woke up in an empty bed realizing that all of your partners were gone, you decided to check your phone to see if any of them told you where they were in which you saw a text from taehyung saying:

"hi my angle, me and matthew left to go to dance practice, just wanted to let you know, see you soon😘"

since tae didn't say anything about jiwoo or somin you tried to yell through the house to see if you would get a yell back but with the luck you have you didn't.

you tried texting somin and jiwoo to see where they were.

y/n: where are you guys at??

jiwoo: me and somin went to grab coffee for us before you woke up... did the guys leave before you woke up?

y/n: yes, they did

somin: we'll be home soon princess

*y/n 🩷 a message*

y/n: okay, i love you my loves

jiwoo: i love you too baby

somin: i love you too princess

you decided to get up and get ready for the day. after you got out of the shower you picked out your clothes and walked out of the room seeing jiwoo and somin just walk in.

jiwoo: good morning baby how'd you sleep?

y/n: im slept pretty good

somin: well im glad princess

y/n: im a little hungry, did you guys get anything to eat while you were out?

jiwoo: actually we didn't we wanted to see if you wanted to get breakfast

y/n: that sounds perfect

you decided to drink the coffee your beautiful girlfriends got you before you left to go to breakfast which was starting to turn into brunch

once you left, you all choose a small breakfast café near the DSP building. since the building was hidden from the main road it was difficult for the cameras to find you guys.

after you walked in and ordered, you saw that no one else was inside which made for a pretty peaceful breakfast.

you, somin, and jiwoo just sat a talked there for what felt like hours but truly was about 45 minutes. as you were getting ready to leave you decided you get a to-go order for taehyung and matthew as well. the owners know all of you guys by heart because you come in so often, but your small talk had to be cut short as you saw people come in and didn't want to be recognized.

once you guys got back into your car, you decided to drive and you all made it to DSP. it was only a few minutes before you walked into the dance room and found your boyfriends dancing and of course, they didn't notice you at first but when the song ended you and your girlfriends started fan girling like there wasn't a tomorrow.

by the time taehyung and matthew turned around they were both red hot.

somin: we brought food, come eat

y/n: yeah we got your favorites

you said with a smile on your face. you and the girls sat on the couch that was in the corner while the boys sat on the floor in front of it.

matthew: you girls are too good to us

tae: you really are

jiwoo: i think it's the other way around

you all just spent the next hour or so eating and talking until you all went home to get ready for a date... which turned out to be the best one.

#kpop #kpop boys #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpopidol #kard #kpop poly #poly relationship #polyamory #kard jiwoo #kard bm #kard somin #kard jseph #fluff

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star-spacer · 2 years ago

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Let's Go Fishing!

Adashino x reader x Ginko (can be read as platonic or romantic)

You and the boys take a dip in the river. When you're half yokai and have inhuman reflexes, a few fishes aren't a problem for you.

Summer heat was the worst heat.

Second only to the heat of drought-dried reeds going up in flames and the burning tinder of beloved houses, the summer heat pressed down upon everything, rendering the far-off mountain tops into hazy, quivering mirages. Your yukata stuck to your skin uncomfortably as you shifted from your spot on the wooden floor. The rhythmic pounding of Ginko’s mortar and pestle sounded through the air and you groaned, turning your head to look at him.

“How can you stand to work in this heat?”

“‘M used to it,” he grunted. “One time I went with a guy to chase down a rainbow. This was during that heatwave we had a while ago so we had to travel during the hottest time of the day to catch up to the rainclouds.”

“Yikes,” you muttered. “Can’t imagine doing that at all.”

Ginko tilted his head, one single emerald eye looking at you through the haze of his cigarette smoke. “Then what’d you do during the heatwave then?”

You grinned lazily at him, swiping the sweaty baby hairs off your forehead. “Why I slept, of course! I’d find some river bank, a nice shady tree, and I’d sleep in its branches.”

“Wish all of us would have that luxury,” he grunted, lifting the pestle and tapping it against the side of the marble pestle. Fine golden grains shifted around as he tilted it into a vial, carefully scraping the powder into it with a stiff reed. Once done, he plugged it up with a cork and searched for something around him. Spotting your lazy form sprawled out where you were, he pointed to a stack of labels next to you.

Ginko pointed at them. “Hey, can you hand me those?”

A flick of your fingers summoned a gust of wind, sending the paper fluttering past you and toward the Mushishi. They danced around his form and he deftly plucked them from the air, swiping a brush and ink from his cabinet and popping the ink bottle open. With a deft hand, the mystery vial soon received a label as he wrote it on the paper you sent.

“What’s that?” You hummed.

“Pollen from flowers that the Usobuki frequent,” Ginko hummed. The familiar name was that of the butterfly mushi he told you about, one that would make those afflicted by it fall asleep with it until a false spring started.

It was the same one responsible for the summer and spring that he went missing in when you search until your feet bled and your voice gave out from yelling his name. So hearing that he was dealing with it again made your hackles raise, a dangerous look on your face.

Ginko didn’t notice, too busy tucking the bottom away into his little medicine cabinet. “The mushi itself puts people to sleep but I discovered that if a small dose of the flower pollen is taken with water, it could be an effective sleep remedy, especially for mushi-related problems.”

“I see.” The thought of a sleeping draught sounded appealing because, despite all the jokes you make about naps, any semblance of sleep for you was haunted by memories you’d rather forget. You opened your mouth, almost tempted to ask him for a bit but hesitated.

Ginko glanced at you, a verdant eye picking up the expression on your face. “Hm?”

“I–”

The shoji door slammed open, Adashino behind it using his foot to move the screen. “Drinks here.”

You did a complete shift, hiding your turmoil as you cheered and flipped over to your front, thin yukata riding up to what would’ve been an indecent length if you were an upstanding citizen in society. Adashino didn’t say anything but groaned as he set down the tray and sat next to you. Ginko snuffed out the cigarette, allowing the smoke to waft away so it wouldn’t bother you before shuffling closer. Though it still lingered on his person as he sat down with you and Adashino, it thankfully didn’t bother you like usual.

The dark-haired man took off his lens and began polishing the circle of glass.“I knew it would get hot so I put some amazake in to chill in the icebox. There’s also ice in there too.”

“Thanks, Adashino! Maybe we can have some cold soba later then.” Propping your head up in one arm, you reached for the cups filled with the fermented rice liquid as the other did too. The creamy, sweet taste of the drink filled your mouth as you took a sip and you sighed happily. “Ahh, Ginko, what’s the use of going at each other’s throats about who’s doing what in the heat when it’s Adashino who’s the privileged one? He’s got a nice big house and an icebox of all things.”

“Being a doctor, and living by the waterfronts has its perks,” Adashino replied dryly. “I do say that you two are always welcomed to stay here.”

Ginko simply took a pointed, obnoxious sip of his rice drink, letting the noise draw out in the hazy air. You snorted and Adashino shot a dirty look at you both. Quiet filled the hot air as everyone settled down to enjoy their drinks, accompanied by the sounds of nature around you all. Every breath you took filled your lungs with uncomfortable warmth and you cursed the neverending sun.

The calmness of the summer day brought back long-faded memories of your mother teaching you how to fish in the stream, helping fight off the heat and simultaneously bringing food home for the day. The thought of cooling down made you give a wistful sigh as you finally sat up. “I could go for a dip right now…”

Then the thought hit you and you gasped, sitting up straigh and making the other two look at you with startled–if not slightly irritated–expressions.

You pushed your sweaty hair back from your face, eyes alight in excitement. “The fishermen should be done for the day, right? Then we won’t be bothering anybody if we go to the river to cool off then. You also said you wanted to get some fish for later so I can catch some too.”

Ginko raised his eyebrow. “We don’t have a boat though.”

“I can swim,” you volunteered excitedly. “I would love to be in the water right now.”

Adashino leaned back on his arms, a thoughtful look on his face. “Hmmm… I think that’ll be alright. Besides, I won’t mind spending a little time in the water.”

You popped to your feet excitedly, eagerness overtaking the sluggish haze of the heat.

“Come on! My mom–I was taught how to fish when I was younger. With the fish that the Suiko’s body brought in, I can promise we’ll have fish in no time.”

“The river is calm this time of year…” Adashino agreed. “I wouldn’t mind soaking my feet for a while.”

Both of you turned your expectant gaze onto Ginko, who gave a long-suffering sigh and knocked back the last dredges of his drink before slamming the wooden cup back down onto the tray. “Never say I don’t do anything for you two.”

Cheering, you swooped down to gather up the cups into the tray to whisk them away, prancing ahead of the males as they slowly got up from their spots. The sun beat down upon you again as you moved to the front of the house to wait for them. Thankfully, you stood under the engawa so most of the heat was kept off as you fixed your yukata.

“Hurry up, you two!!!”

“Coming.”

In a few short moments, both Ginko and Adashino joined you, the latter with a woven straw hat on his head as he handed a shallow basket to the white-haired man. The three of you made your way down the path to Adashino’s residence, greeting the occasional villagers who passed by. It wasn’t a long walk to the beach, but the three of you opted for a detour to a more secluded area by the river deeper into the forest. But that meant that by the time you reached your destination, sweat had begun to stain your dark yukata. Maroon was not a good color in the heat, no matter how much you liked the color.

“At last,” you sighed, flopping down on the grass beneath a dappled shade of a tree.

“Tell me why we like to go here when we have a perfectly good beach at a much shorter distance?” Ginko sighed as he set down the basket.

“We’d roast alive if we went out there in this sun,” Adashino replied.

You sat up, sharp eyes scanning the water and spotting the almost imperceptible flickers of scales underneath the surface. A sharp grin spread over your face as you stood up, pulling up your sleeves and rolling them back. “Water’s shallower here and the fishes like to stay in the coverage. I can catch them easier.”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, sighing out deeply as your fingers came up to press over the lids of your eyes. The telltale smell of ozone filled the air as your magic activated. For a moment, your full visage was revealed and you heard Ginko and Adashino shifting behind you. Black fox ears flashed into existence, hung low on either side of your head, a flicker of unearthliness surrounding you. Then they disappeared. With any other person you would not have allowed the thought of letting your true appearance show, but your trust in the two males was unshakable. You knew there was nothing that would make them betray your trust out of their own free will.

A moment passed and then you took your fingers away from your eyes, turning around to blink at the two as the golden glow faded away from your eyes.

“Everyone okay?”

“What did you use your magic for?” Ginko asked.

You kicked your sandals off. “To keep the debris out of my eyes.”

Keeping an eye on the river in front of you, you began stepping into the cool flowing waters. Before you can get far, your shoulder was grabbed and you jolted.

“Wait.”

Ginko had walked in after you, his face serious. A single, piercing green eye looked into yours.

You tilted your head. “Yes?”

“How are you sure it’s safe?”

Realizing his concern for what it was, you relaxed and gave him an easy smile, hand raising up to pat the one on your shoulder. “I’ve gone into this part of the river before during worse conditions. In fact, this part is one of the safest areas of the river, I made sure of it before showing it to you guys.”

You had met a local river yokai around here to help it save some of the members of its family. A grateful family, a game of stone skipping, and a favor later ensured that this area would be in their blessing and be safe for you and those you brought with you.

Despite your reassurances, his eyes roved over the still surface behind you. “Hm.”

“I’ll be fine, Ginko. I’m a very good swimmer,” you said, patient with him as you shared a look with Adashino. Though you weren’t there for the event itself, you had arrived just days after the event with the Suiko had gone down and had heard Io’s story in its entirety. The race to catch a girl who swam with the swamp and bountiful fish that lasted till this day. You were also there in the aftermath with Adashino, seeing Ginko’s haunted looks as he regarded the waters around him.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not hide his demons from one who was considered a half-demon too.

“If anything happens, I’ll shout for you alright? I won’t go far.”

“We can stick in the shallows, Ginko. Just in case,” Adashino said from his spot leaning up against the tree. “There isn’t anything large in these waters so we’ll be the most dangerous fish around.”

Ginko finally let go of you, sighing. “Be careful.”

You short him a reassuring grin, turning to wade deeper into the water. Your dark yukata spread out around you, wine red against the sparkling water. Behind you, you heard the two splashing around against the shore, but they did not follow you. Slowly, the water rose to waist level, and then a bit more. You went out until you reached the middle of the river, treading water as you turned around.

“I’m going down now. Get the basket ready!”

There was an affirmative call and you waited until you saw Adashino fetch the item, giving you a nod from across the bank. Giving the two males a wave, you took a deep breath and dove under the water.

The world silenced, cutting away into the dull, muffled noise of water rushing overhead. You drifted in the peace for a moment before opening your eyes.

Another world greeted you, blue-tinted and sparkling with sunbeams filtering down from above. It fluttered with the creatures down here, a dance of life.

You wondered if this was what Ginko saw when he talked of the Koumyaku, the glittering, living river of light.

A silver streak flashed by the corner of your vision and you snapped your head to it. A school of fish, unaware of the danger now within their mist. A slow grin stretched across your face, teeth losing their human flatness as your heart picked up in anticipation of the hunt.

Thank you for this offering.

Like the silt of the river, your illusion slipped away in the flowing streams of the water. Your dark form sliced through the water, chasing after the fish. Nails, too sharp to belong to a normal human, swiped at glittering, silver-scaled bodies and snatched them up faster than they could react. Once you hand a handful of squirming fish by the tails, you shot off towards the bank. Surfacing with a gasp and a splash, you waved at them with the fish dangling from your grip.

“Hey! I got them!”

“Bring them in!”

You began kicking off towards the pair, slower now that you had to rely mostly on your legs. Adashino and Ginko began wading out to meet you too and a brilliant idea hit you. As your toes touched the bottom of the river, you reared back a fish in hand as the remainings were moved to your other one.

“Catch!”

Adashino’s eyes widened as the fish went sailing through the air. He yelped, lunging forward with his basket to let the fish flop down into it. Thankfully, Ginko’s hand snapped out to grab him by the back of Adashino’s yukata and his quick action prevented the dark-haired man and the fish from toppling down into the water. But unfortunately, that still soaked the entire front of his clothes

Adashino glared at you, front of his blue yukata now dripping. “Hey!”

“Oops–Sorry!” You laughed, totally unrepentant as you waded closer. The rest of the fish–thankfully–was gently placed into the basket. You faced both of them, hands on your hips as you regarded the pair. “It’s only a bit of water, y’know. It’ll help you cool off more if anything.”

A drop of water trailed down your face from your dripping wet hair right after that statement.

“Yeah, yeah,” Adashino grumbled as he moved to hang the basket from the branches so it could trail in the water. That freed up his hands to fix his water-laden yukata, futilely wringing the fabric.

“Heh, heh. You can’t deny it does feel nicer though…” You turned to Ginko, who immediately picked up the shift in your person.

His lidded eye widened, taking a step back.

You launched at him, hands outstretched and water spraying out behind you as you splashed toward the male.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey leave me alone—”

“Adashino catch him! He’s the driest out of all of us!!”

“Adashino don’t you dare.”

Your bright laughter and splashing filled the air as the three off you ran around the quiet alcove meant just for you three and you were grateful to have another day like this with them.

#mushishi x reader #mushishi oneshot #adashino x reader #ginko x reader #reader insert #x reader #platonic relationships #gender neutral reader #masterlist #mushishi posting

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razzle-zazzle · 1 year ago

Text

Whumptober Day 31: i thought that i was getting better

Emptiness + Setbacks

4662 Words; Acrobat & the Spider, the Dinner Debacle

TW for arachnophobes bc Gisu is a spider

AO3 ver

Dion hadn’t seen Gisu anywhere.

He kept expecting her to jump out of every shadow, but it was like she had left the mansion entirely. Or, well, it was more likely that she was in a part of the mansion that Dion hadn’t seen—possibly the western wing, given the density of webs in that direction. And Dion had no intentions of going where the webs were thickest, so it seemed entirely possible that he and Gisu could end up never seeing each other at all.

Which was just fine by him. The longer he could put off getting eaten or whatever other horrors awaited him, the better.

Dion shoved those thoughts down. He really didn’t want to think about that. He forced his focus back onto the room he’d entered, picking an empty vase up off of the shelf. It was squat, white ceramic rimmed with blue flower petals—Dion had seen at least ten others like it throughout the various rooms of the mansion already.

He was poking around mostly for lack of anything better to do. He had already seen the kitchen and grabbed himself a breakfast of mashed acorns—which was. Hm. Dion really hoped that that wasn’t the only food on offer, he’d never survive—and now he was poking around the rooms in the second floor. Most of them weren’t all that different from each other, and a lot of them were so coated in dust that Dion could barely get into them without sneezing.

This room was mostly dust-free, though. Like so many others, it had a hearth dominating one of the walls—what kind of mansion needed so many hearths? Maybe the winters were really bad in this forest—Dion had noticed no shortage of firewood by every hearth.

Dion moved to set the vase back down—

The fireplace burst into flames with a whoomph.

Dion screamed. The vase in his hand shattered against the mantle, completely missing the fire he was aiming for. He scrambled back, smacking into the wall and freezing in place.

The fire danced like normal, for a moment, then—

“Wow.” A woman emerged from the flames—no, she was made of fire. Two black points in her face focused on the shattered remains of the vase before flicking back up to look at Dion, like two twinkling coals. “So do you usually scream like a banshee, or is that just the nerves?” Her voice had a crackly sound to it, like wood cracking in heat—and it was just as dry, too.

Dion folded his arms around himself. “You startled me.” He huffed. Really, when random fires exploded into existence, what else was Dion supposed to do? Not freak out? Unlikely.

The fire put her face in her hands with a tired groan—at least, that’s what Dion assumed the movements were. She was a bit indistinct, so it was hard to tell. “Oh, this is going to go so bad, I can just tell.” She groused, lifting her head to look at Dion again. “Of all people, it had to be someone like you?”

“Wh—hey!” Dion bristled.

The fire woman sighed. “Whatever. My name’s Norma. And yours is…?”

“It’s Dion.” Dion responded. “And it’s not like I asked to be here.”

“You literally promised to stay here.” Norma pointed out. “I was there. I saw it.”

“When—” Oh, wait. There had been a fire going in the room that Gisu and Raz were in, wasn’t there? Dion rubbed at his temples. What next? Was he going to find out that all of the furniture was alive, too? Was his wardrobe going to start criticizing his outfit?

“I’m going to assume by your silence that you’ve either figured it out, or you’re dumber than you sound.” Norma drawled. At Dion’s sputtered response, she shrugged, the flames shaping her body starting to shrink.

“Try not to die.” She suggested, before the fire winked out.

Dion stared at the empty hearth. The wood had been burned down, but he could still see one half-there log towards the back. The room was silent, now, in the absence of the crackling fire.

It took a long while before he began exploring again.

+=+=+=+=+

Dion slept about as well on the second night as he did the first.

Which was to say: not much at all.

For some reason, the window in his room was perfectly angled so that the morning sunlight was blasted directly into Dion’s eyes, forcing him awake whether he was ready or not.

The radio was back on his nightstand, but he hadn’t heard Morris since. Given that he had seen other radios scattered throughout the mansion, Dion figured that Morris was busy bugging someone else instead.

With a groan, Dion rolled out of bed, walking over to the wardrobe. He hadn’t wanted to wear any clothes but his own, at first—but that was a one-way ticket to stinking worse than garbage, which Dion would not stand if he could help it. He’d already found and used one of the various bathrooms spread out around the mansion—the entire time expecting some kind of living water to come out of the faucet to harass him, but thankfully his bath had gone entirely bother-free—so now he just had to find a good bin and washboard to wash his own clothes with.

Once he was dressed, Dion grabbed a brush off the vanity—where it had come from, he wasn’t sure, but it was surprisingly free of fur, so he wasn’t going to complain. A few moments later, his hair was tied back.

It was about as good as he could get, probably. He had yet to find any hair grease, so curls it was. Not that he looked bad when his hair curled—it would take a lot to make him look bad, Dion felt.

Satisfied, Dion stepped out into the hall. He started to make his way downstairs to the kitchen—he didn’t think there’d be any milk, but with some water he could probably make half-decent pancakes with the mashed acorns that were on offer. It’d be nice to cook again, even if it was just making pancakes.

With that thought in mind, Dion continued into the kitchen.

+=+=+=+=+

The mansion had a library.

The mansion had an actual library, with more than enough books to occupy Dion for days, maybe even months—

Dion perused the shelves, frowning. What was with this organization? How did anybody find the book they were looking for?

Dion was halfway into working himself up to pull all the books off the shelves to try and reorganize them when someone coughed behind him. He jumped, startled, and whirled around to find himself face to face with Gisu, all four of her hands clasped in front of her.

“Oh.” Dion said. He wanted to turn back to the shelf all casually, but for some reason, he was rooted in place. “You.”

Gisu grinned. “Me!” She chirped.

“Sooooo…” Dion really hoped this wasn’t the part where he got eaten. He was too pretty to be eaten! “What do you want?”

“Well.” Gisu squirmed in place. “So, uh.” Gisu ran a hand through her hair, her claws catching on a tangle. After a few moments of struggling to pry her hand free, she turned her attention back to Dion. “You should uh. Join me for dinner tonight.” She offered.

“Absolutely not.” Dion growled. He wasn’t getting eaten that easily!

Gisu faltered, like she somehow expected him to agree. “Well—you—” She fumbled, “I’m not trying to eat you!” She threw her upper pair of arms in the air, her lower set crossed in front of her. “I’m trying to seduce you!”

Dion’s face burned. “Well, it’s not going to work!” He crossed his arms with a huff, forcing his gaze onto the wall and away from the giant spider in his doorway. “I’m not letting you use me as an egg sac!” And didn’t spiders eat each other after mating, anyway? Dion was pretty sure that was true. So either way, he was probably going to get eaten.

Gisu choked, her upper half doubling over as she coughed. “What?” It almost sounded like she was trying not to laugh—Dion bristled.

“You heard me!” His face burned even worse, now, for some reason—probably anger. Yeah, that was right. Anger—and no other emotions, not at all—was what was making his face burn.

Gisu wheezed. “That doesn’t make sense!” She managed, the moment she was breathing regularly again. She straightened up, and skittered over. Dion pressed his back against the shelf behind him, his eyes darting around wildly in their efforts to not look at the spider monstress standing less than a foot away.

Gisu tilted her head up to look Dion directly in the eyes—and how was that fair, that she was shorter than Dion and still somehow terrifying?—and spoke. “Well, you’re coming to join me for dinner anyway.” She declared. “Since you agreed to stay and liven up the place.”

“I agreed to stay,” Dion argued, “Not to talk to you!” His heart threatened to beat its way out of his chest, shaking his ribcage like a monkey might shake the bars of their cage.

“Yeah, well,” Gisu poked him in the chest with a claw, “It’s not enough just to stay here.” She insisted, continuing to poke him in the chest. “So you. Me. Dinner. Tonight.”

“No way!” Dion shouted. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not!

Gisu huffed, her face scrunching in frustration. “Well, I’m going to be there whether you like it or not!” She declared, “So either you eat with me or you don’t eat at all!” With that, she whirled around, her abdomen smacking into Dion. She left in a hurry, the door not quite slamming shut behind her.

Dion rubbed at where she’d accidentally bumped him frantically. He couldn’t feel any fur, though, so hopefully he hadn’t just been poisoned. Spiders didn’t have stingers, he was pretty sure.

…maybe he should try to find a book on spiders before sorting anything in here.

+=+=+=+=+

“So are you going to starve or not?”

Dion glared at the radio—it felt like there was one in every room. “Shut up.” He muttered.

Morris did not shut up, instead continuing. “Because there’s really no point in you agreeing to stay here if you end up starving yourself.” The radio crackled.

Dion kept his attention on the book in his hands.

He was sitting in the library, still, on a chaise lounge near one of the windows. If he looked outside it, he saw a small courtyard—when the mansion already had an overgrown front yard, too. The courtyard was smaller, and just as overgrown—

Dion looked away from the window. He was focused on the book. The book in his hands. The book about spiders. That book.

“Of course, if you do die, then we’ll just have to feed your corpse to Sam’s horde.” Morris continued. “After we put your clothes back in the wardrobe.”

Dion growled, but said nothing. He was focused on the book. Not Morris, not at all.

“It’d be a real shame, though,” Morris continued, oblivious to the fact that Dion wasn’t paying any attention at all, “It’s only your second day, dude.” The radio made a whomp-whomp-whommp sound, and Morris continued. “Poor Dion, may he be remembered well. He starved to death trying to prove a point like an idiot—”

“Fine!” Dion groaned, setting the book he’d grabbed aside. He stood, glaring at the radio. “If I die, I’m blaming you.”

Morris chuckled. “Sure, whatever you say.”

+=+=+=+=+

Dion entered the dining room slowly, unsure of what he would find. The banquet table in the center of it had been covered in a clean tablecloth, with a lit candelabra in the center. Everything else looked the same as it had in the morning—Dion had eaten in the kitchen the first day. The shelves decorated with various gears and bits of metal were still to the side of the door, the giant mirror was still above the mantle, and the wallpaper still had old stains that Dion didn’t want to think about.

The only thing missing was… Gisu. Dion looked up at the ceiling—even with the shadows cast by the candles spread out across the room and the roaring hearth in the wall, he didn’t think Gisu was up there.

At least, he hoped not.

Carefully, slowly, Dion walked over to the table, and just as cautiously, pulled out a chair.

There was nothing on the seat that he could see—but what if there was an invisible thread, and the moment he sat down it snagged and suddenly he was tied up and being dragged up to the ceiling?

“Oh, for pete’s sake!” The fire yelled, Norma manifesting in it. “Just sit down!”

Chastened, Dion did as he was ordered. No invisible threads snagged when he sat, and no traps went off. After another moment of waiting, Dion let himself relax into the seat—but only a little.

As he waited for something to happen, presumably Gisu arriving—animals started to filter into the room, gathering at the edges. Birds, mice, squirrels—Dion even saw a rabbit and a fox sitting side-by-side under one of the shelves, beady eyes turned onto him and him alone.

Dion shifted uncomfortably. This was more eyes than he was comfortable with—and Gisu still hadn’t shown up!

A little bit later, the door across from Dion—the one that separated the dining room from the kitchen, which was decidedly distinct from the door that Dion had entered through—opened. A goose came waddling out, a metal cloche balanced on its back. Dion watched as it approached the table, and came to a stop.

It honked impatiently. A moment later, Adam came through, coming to a stop just inside the room. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” He grumbled, holding a yoyo. “You couldn’t use a bigger animal for this…” They muttered, flicking the yoyo out. The string wrapped around the goose, lifting it up onto the table.

The goose waddled across, using a wing to slide the cloche down onto the table once it reached Dion. It then reached back into its feathers as it waddled over to Adam, pulling out a slip of paper and handing it to them.

Adam stared at the paper in his hand. “I’m not reading this verbatim.” He told the goose, which pecked at him ineffectually. Adam looked back up, opening their mouth—

Adam stopped short. “Where’s Gisu?”

Dion shrugged. “Why would I know?” It wasn’t his business what she was doing, and it wasn’t like he could do anything to delay her, anyway. Aquato or not, he was still human.

The radio on one of the decorative shelves by the door blared to life. “Maybe she’s still getting ready.” Morris suggested.

“Pretty sure it wouldn’t take this long.” A new voice spoke. Dion looked up at the mirror to see a new woman had appeared in it, her face glittering with frost. She was strangely indistinct, blurred at the edges like a bad photograph.

A fox pawed at Adam’s leg, standing up on its hindpaws so Adam could reach the piece of paper in its mouth without bending down.

“‘She’s probably in her lab.’” They read out.

The woman in the mirror and Norma both groaned simultaneously, their heads thrown back in exasperation.

“Of course she is.” Morris grumbled. “One second.” The small display on the radio went dark.

A moment later, the radio crackled back to life. “Yeah, she’s in there.” Morris reported. “And no, she’s not getting ready.”

Adam rested a hand against the bridge of his nose. “Of course.” They mumbled. “Of course she forgot. And after we went to all this effort…”

Dion, already done with this conversation, opened the cloche, setting the cover to the side. He grimaced. Was it moving?

The others continued arguing as Dion stood up, shoving the bowl of barely-prepared vegetables and still-alive bugs and other unidentifiable ingredients aside. He pushed his chair in and paced across the dining room as Morris and the mirror lady started trying to convince Adam to just “bust the door down!” while Norma shouted to not do that, guys, that is a terrible idea. All of the animals were running around, now, and Dion nearly tripped over the goose as he made his way to the kitchen door.

“Fuck it.” Dion threw the kitchen door open, and stomped inside. “I’ll cook for myself.” The “again” went unsaid. There was a lot of food in the pantry, most of it probably not good—there! Dion spotted an unopened box of fusilli. Pasta on its own would be filling, but there were tomatoes on the counter, and those mushrooms were probably edible. He’d need some onions for something that tasted really good, though—and there were some in a small basket in the pantry, somehow not rotted at all. Dion wondered if this whole mansion was frozen in time, and that was why all the food still seemed to be good? The milk carton in the fridge certainly hadn’t been bad, when he’d used it to make pancakes this morning.

Dion went for the spice rack, grabbing what he’d need. That done, he laid his ingredients out on the counter, and grabbed a pot. He filled it with water, and set it on the stove. Dion didn’t even need to touch the dials on the stove—a fire flickered to life under the burner the moment the pot was set down. Convenient.

“What are you doing?” A hanging pan shimmered as the mirror lady came into view on the metallic surface. “Are you cooking?”

Dion grabbed a knife, examining it before nodding, He set the first tomato on the cutting board. “Yes?” He started slicing, the movements easy from years of practice. “I’m not eating that.” That being the bowl of barely-edible whatever that he had been presented with.

Heavy footsteps followed Dion into the room. “Hey, don’t be mean to Sam,” Adam chided, picking up a rabbit and holding it towards Dion. “She does her best.” Something about their tone suggested that they were just as off put by her “best” as Dion, yet still trying to be polite about it.

Dion looked at the rabbit. “So Sam’s… a rabbit?” That might explain the quality of the meals he had been offered. He finished chopping the tomatoes, put them in the pan, and moved onto the onions.

“Sam’s the tree.” Adam explained. “But she can control all of the animals within the mansion walls.” A squirrel clambered onto his shoulder, and he gently scritched its little head with a stone finger. “So she’s really… all of them.”

Dion nodded, trying to but not really processing what Adam was saying. The water had begun to boil, so he opened the box of fusilli and poured it into the pot. He added a pinch of salt, and started to clean up the cutting board.

“And then you’re…” He looked at the hanging pan, which had frost growing at the edges.

“Lizzie.” The reflection offered.

“Okay.” Dion took that in. Adam, Gisu, Morris, Norma, Sam, Lizzie. Was that everyone? He hadn’t seen anything that could be a seventh person—though the jury was still out on living water.

“I’m a reflection.” Lizzie continued. “Obviously. I can appear on anything reflective.” She disappeared from the hanging pan and appeared on the side of the pot, only to frown. “Too hot.” She complained, zipping back to the hanging pan.

Dion took the pot off the stove—the fusilli was definitely done. The fire flickered away to nothing moments after the pot was gone from the burner, like it hadn’t been there at all.

As he poured the pot’s contents into the strainer, Dion looked at the fire going in the furnace. “Thanks.” He said.

Norma scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t expect me to help you cook every time.”

Dion rolled his eyes, shaking the strainer. The pan was still on the stove, the scent of the soon-to-be-done sauce mouthwatering. Oh, it was so good to cook again. A wave of homesickness crested in his chest—his Nona and Mother had taught him how to cook, and even if he enjoyed cooking alone it still reminded him so fiercely of his family. Dion fought the feeling down with a wooden spoon, focusing on the motions of the tasks before him.

Eventually, Dion had a finished product that he was pretty satisfied with—and oh, that sauce really did look so good. He’d always had a talent for knowing how much spice to add, his Nona had once said. And as Dion took the first mouthwatering bite, he could only find himself agreeing.

Damn, he was good at this.

“Um,” Lizzie peered at the meal Dion had laid out. “Are you going to eat all of that?”

Dion blinked. What did she—oh.

DIon’s face fell as he realized—he’d been cooking with the proportions he was used to, which were meant to feed his whole family. He hadn’t quite made enough for eight people, but there was definitely way more than he needed, here.

“I guess not.” He said, staring down at the plate before him.

“Oh,” Adam started, “Why don’t you bring some to Gisu? She’s the only other person here who needs to eat.”

The goose from earlier honked aggressively.

“The only other person who can eat human food.” Adam amended.

“Why me?” Dion asked. “Couldn’t Sam handle that?”

“No, it has to be you.” Lizzie countered. “It’ll only spill all over the walls if Sam does it.”

Dion contemplated the plate before him. “I guess…” He really didn’t want to. But what else could he do? “But I’m eating my fill first.” He still wasn’t going to eat with Gisu if he didn’t have to.

In the furnace, Norma sighed. “I’ll reheat her portion when you’re done.”

+=+=+=+=+

Dion crept along the hallways, glancing nervously at the webs lining the ceiling. The lamps were starting to get unlit, here—though the flashlight Adam had given him stayed lit, allowing Dion to see.

Not that seeing helped his nerves.

The webs only grew thicker as he continued, the whole hall starting to look like a webbed-up tunnel. Dion trod as carefully as he could, trying not to step on potentially-sticky thread.

He shuddered. He really didn’t want to be in the west wing. How had Adam and Lizzie talked him into this, again?

The basket hanging from his arm wasn’t heavy, but the further Dion went, the heavier it felt. Was he really doing this? Carrying a basket of reheated pasta into the one part of the mansion he had sworn to avoid at all costs?

Apparently. Dion came to a stop in front of a massive double door. A massive metal double door—the whole wall looked like metal—at least, the bits he could see through the webbing looked metal.

Dion stared at the door for a long moment. Was he really about to do this?

Dion shook his head. No! He was an Aquato, not a coward! He could do this!

Carefully, with the basket hooked over his arm and the flashlight in his hand, Dion used his free hand to grab the door handle. It moved without resistance, and Dion pulled the door open.

“Um, hi?” Dion tried, peering into the room. It was better lit than the hallways would have led him to believe, a bright white light searing down onto the metal Gisu was hunched over. She had a welding mask on her face, the torch sizzling as sparks flew everywhere. The light of a—was that a forge?—backlit Gisu, adding color to the otherwise cold room.

“I made more food than I meant to,” he continued, leaning against the door as if he might fuse with it if he tried hard enough. “So I was wondering if—”

He cut off with a squeak as the welding torch cut off. Gisu flipped up the mask, all four of her eyes focused on Dion. Her eyes narrowed. Dion wanted to melt into the floor.

“What are you doing here?” Gisu demanded.

Any courage that Dion still had deflated. “Um.” He lifted his arm, trying to show off the basket—

“GET OUT!” Something bounced off the door frame. Something metal.

Dion screamed, tumbling backwards. The basket and flashlight fell to the floor, forgotten—Dion was already out of the room, flipping backwards faster than he had ever flipped in his life. He didn’t stop, either, flipping end over end until the webs around him thinned down to barely there and there were lit lamps to see by.

Dion collapsed to the floor, his chest heaving, his heart going at a million miles a second. He stared up at the ceiling, all of his organs trying to mutiny and leave his body. Oh god. Oh god.

That’d—he’d—he’d just barely survived. He’d just barely survived. Oh god.

Dion covered his face with his hands. His still shaking hands.

He had promised to stay here, and he wasn’t about to break his word—

But god, he could not handle this kind of stress.

+=+=+=+=+

“So,” The forge crackled as Norma appeared in the flames, “How are we doing where is Dion.”

Gisu looked over at the radio. “Why would Dion be here? In my lab?” Not even Sam and Adam were really allowed in—and there were ways to keep Morris, Norma, and Lizzie out, as well.

Dion had shown up earlier, but he’d been quick to leave when Gisu asked. She turned back to her project—

“To deliver food?” Norma offered dryly. “That he cooked? After you missed your dinner date?”

Gisu blinked. “What food?”

Norma stared for a long moment, then raised a fiery hand. “The basket by the door?”

Gisu turned to the door. Huh. Yeah, that was a basket, next to a flashlight that wasn’t on. “Oh.”

Then the rest of what Norma had been saying finally registered, and Gisu turned back to the fire. “Wait, whaddya mean I forgot?” She had had everything planned out! A romantic candlelit dinner, like in all of her favorite rom-coms—

“You forgot.” Norma confirmed. “Your… prospective boytoy got stood up.”

Gisu buried her face in her superior hands, uncaring that she was getting grease on her chelicerae. “Fuck.”

Norma snorted. “Here, bring the basket over here.” She offered. “I’ll reheat your food for you—you still need to eat.”

“Okay, mom.” Gisu grumbled, without any real bite. She skittered over to the basket, opening it to reveal a plate of pasta. “He made this?” She knew that Dion had been scrounging around making his own meals, but this was different. This looked like it would have been absolutely delicious fresh. Gisu didn’t know Dion had it in him—what she had seen of him so far (which was admittedly not much) mostly involved him being weirdly tense and snarky around her.

As Norma took the plate, doing her best to reheat the food without burning it, Gisu frowned.

Dion had made that. For her, apparently.

And she had stood him up.

The scent of the now-heated plate caught Gisu’s attention, and she took the plate from Norma. The first bite hit her mouth—

Oh. Oh. Oh, this was delicious. Gisu hadn’t realized how hungry she was—she had really lot track of time. But as she ate, her mind circled back to its previous train of thought.

She had stood Dion up.

She had stood Dion up, and worse, when he came to bring her food, she had chased him away.

Gisu set the empty plate down on a nearby table. She’d take care of it later. She moved to grab the wrench again—

She didn’t really want to work on any projects, right now. Her stomach was full, sure, but—

Gisu crawled up the wall to her nest. She had had a long day, anyway—she’d feel better in the morning.

She’d do better, too. Her ability to break the curse depended on it.

With that resolution in mind, Gisu curled up in her webbing, and fell asleep.

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