supersaiyanjedi14 · 1 day ago
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SABEZRA WEEK: Day 3 (Oct 30): Surprise
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*My AU: Ezra and Sabine make their way to Krownest to share some special news with Tristan, who has something to show them as well.
Krownest was just as he had remembered it.  A thick blanket of snow covered every visible inch, leaving the trees and rocks with a light frosted glow.  As the Phantom touched down, Ezra nonetheless appreciated the one critical difference from his last visit to the planet, that being the distinct lack of Imperials shooting at them.
Hopefully the lack of active firearms would remain a fact by the end of the day.
“Will you give it a rest?”
Ezra turned to the seat next to him to see Sabine lightly shaking her head.  As always her hair and armor were popping with color, though the stark whiteness of their surroundings was making it come across as substantially more so than usual.
“Am I that obvious about it?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“Well,” Sabine mused, “considering that you’re about five seconds away from snapping the yoke like a stick in your bare hands, there’s sweat all over your face, you’ve been reciting your calming exercise mantra under your breath ever since we got off the comm-“
“Hey, it’s not every day you stroll up to a Mandalorian fortress and tell the guy in charge you suddenly tied the knot with his sister.”
Sabine rolled her eyes and placed her hand on his shoulder.  It was still a strange thing to think about.  It had been right before the New Republic’s attack to capture Coruscant.  The tension in the fleet had been so thick you could cut it with a broken vibroblade, most people expecting the most extreme fighting since the Death Star and Jakku and many wondering if they were going to come out of this in one piece.  For all their fearlessness, Ezra and Sabine had not been exempt from the worries.  Add on how their relationship had blossomed over the past decade and all the trials that had entailed, and they had decided that they wanted no regrets should the worst happen.
And so, in the privacy of their quarters aboard Home One, Ezra Bridger and Sabine Wren had exchanged the traditional marriage vows of the Mandalorian people, declaring themselves as one together and apart, vowing to share all and raise warriors.  Some would consider it a mere formality at this point considering how they were practically married already, but to them it had meant everything.
In hindsight, they could have probably waited on it.  Not only was the capture of the galactic capital considerably smoother than anyone had expected, but the subsequent trap that the Imperial leadership had left behind had tied everyone up in work that ranged from taxing to disturbing.  Ezra would have never thought that a disease would be more daunting than a pitched battle, but the Krytos virus had proved them all wrong.  The fact that Zeb and Hera had both been infected had only made those months even more taxing for the Specters.
The most relevant personal consequence of all this chaos had been that they had never gotten around to informing the rest of Clan Wren of their nuptials.  Most of the Mandalorians had been in their own space to try and force out the last remnants of the Saxon regime, the recently appointed Count Tristan Wren among them, while the severity of their busy schedules had prevented a proper visit until this point.  The substantial gap in time had give Ezra’s nerves plenty of time to settle in.  Sabine had insisted to him again and again that they had done nothing substantially out of the ordinary for her people, yet he still couldn’t shake the apprehension of springing the news on his new brother-in-law.
Thankfully, instead of giving him yet another lecture on the subject, Sabine merely laughed a bit and playfully punched his arm.  “You say that as though he doesn’t like you.  If anything, he’s probably going to be over the moon.”
“What if it had been your mom we were seeing?”
Sabine considered for a moment.  “Okay, she would have probably shot you.”
“Comforting.”
“Look,” Sabine said, turning his face to look at her, her expression much softer, “it’s going to be fine.  Trust me, he’s had worse surprises.”
Ezra took a deep breath.  “Okay then,” he said as he returned her smile, “Let’s go see the in-laws”
--
Normally, visitors to the Wren compound, especially aruetii, would have been thoroughly searched before being allowed entry, but a few sharp glares from Sabine had told the reception committee thar frisking the Loth-rat in her presence would not end well.  As such, the two of them were able to proceed quickly right to the throne room.  There, seated underneath the portrait of his mother, was Tristan Wren, looking over a datapad while talking with another warrior.  Aside from the thin mustache under his nose and the shades of burgundy in his armor, he seemed the same as ever, though there was also a visible tension to him that only upwards of five years of war could bring.  Once he saw the two walking in, however, that tension seemed to melt away.  Smiling broadly, Tristan shooed the others out of the room and made towards his sister.
“Sorry I wasn’t at the pad to greet you guys in person,” he said cheerfully, “Shysa and Korkie are running me like a bantha to keep a lid on things out here.  Reports and data coming in every minute.”
“At least you’re still in one piece.”  Sabine joked as she moved to hug her brother.
“Yeah, only on the outside.” Tristan returned both the humor and the embrace before extending a hand to Ezra.  “And how’ve you been?”
“Okay for the most part,” Ezra replied, taking the hand and firmly shaking it, “especially with our own messes to clean up.”
Tristan sighed.  “Yeah, we heard all about that.  How’re Hera and Zeb?”
“Fully recovered,” Sabine said, “Though Zeb’s still a bit cranky.”
“Isn’t he always?”
“Moreso than usual since he didn’t get the chance to pummel Isard himself before she blew.”
“That would have been entertaining.”
The three of them laughed at the mental image, and Ezra found himself far more relaxed and at ease.  What had he been worried for?
“So,” Tristan said, clapping his hands together, “to what do I owe the pleasure?  Not that I don’t like you guys visiting, but it’s a little odd that you couldn’t just do this in a holo call.”
Sabine grinned.  “We felt this was better said in person.  It’s not sensitive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she quickly threw in in response to Tristan’s glimmer of concern.
“Okay, then,” he said cautiously, “What’s up?”
Sabine turned to face Ezra.  With a deep breath, Ezra decided to just rip the bacta patch off.
“Well,” he began, “when the New Republic was getting ready to attack Coruscant, Sabine and I…well we weren’t sure what would happen when we took the capital.  We didn’t really want anything unsaid or undone should the worst case happen.  So we…uh.”  Ezra’s words caught a bit his throat, then ran out “wesortofgotmarried.”
Tristan was silent for a moment, then blinked a few times.  “Huh?”
Ezra was afraid he’d have to rush it out again, but thankfully Sabine came to his rescue.  “We took the vows right before the battle,” she clarified, slipping her hand into his own.  “Ezra’s now my husband.”
Silence filled the room as Tristan just stood there.  The seconds seemed to tick by at the speed of a gonk droid.  Ezra was about to reach through the Force to get a glimpse of what was going through his head when the other Mandalorian finally spoke.
Or rather, laughed.
For several long seconds, the walls reverberated with Tristan’s booming laughter, his face twisting into an almost hysterical grin.  Before Ezra could ask if he was okay, Tristan had rushed forward and pulled Ezra into a bone-crushing hug, still howling as he did so.
“Really?!” he asked with tears in his eyes, “You’re not kidding?!”
“Ribs!  Ribs!”  Ezra wheezed as he pulled his brother-in-law off of him.  “And yes, we’re serious.  Unless I bungled the Mando’a somewhere, we’ve been married for the past seven months.” “Hahaha!” Tristan yelled.  “Finally!”
Sabine blinked at her brother’s reaction.  “Finally?  What do you mean ‘finally’?  Were you betting with someone on when it would happen?” she accused.
“No, no,” Tristan said, raising his hands as he started to come down from his high, “it’s just you guys were dating for so long people were joking you were married already for years.  I’m just happy you guys got around to making it official.”
“People were saying that?” Ezra asked, somewhat baffled that such gossip about him was a thing.
“Huh,” Sabine mused, “now I know how Kanan and Hera felt.”
“Anyway,” Tristan continued, having finally stopped cackling like a madman, “Thank the Force you guys did it.  It means I can finally give Mr. Jedi here this.”
“Give me what?”
To answer the question, Tristan ran over to a cabinet in the corner of the room and pulled out what seemed to be a large suitcase.  Whatever was inside must have been heavy, as he strained to pull it over and set it down at Ezra’s feet.  “Well,” he said, somewhat giddy, “open it up!”
Ezra looked at Sabine, who merely shrugged and gestured to the case.  Kneeling down, Ezra flipped the knobs and lifted the lid.  What he saw made his jaw drop.  It was a full suit of Mandalorian armor, the plates a mixture of dark orange and red.  At the top of the case was the helmet, adorned with the Nite-owl esque eyes that were the Wren family sigil.  Far more telling, however were the unmistakable markings of the Loth-wolf, something only Sabine had done to this point.  Underneath the plates was a neatly folded black cloak.
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Ezra’s eyes turned up to look at Tristan.  From his peripheral, he saw that Sabine was just as awestruck.
“So,” Tristan asked.  “What do you think?” “You,” Ezra shakily rose to his feet, “You made this for me? “Had it done a couple years ago.”  Tristan explained.  “I’ve been holding onto it in case you guys ever became official.  In the, eh, ‘normal’ family sense at least.”
“Normal?”
Tristan sighed, then scooped up the helmet from the box.  “Ezra, you and the rest of the crew have been Sabine’s family since the beginning, in a lot of ways more than we ever were.”  There was a twinge of sadness in his voice as he said this.  “Even before you guys started dating.  As far as I’m concerned, you guys marrying is just a formality.”  He smiled warmly as he handed the helmet to Ezra.  “Unfortunately, we’re a little picky on formalities, and I can’t really just hand armor out to any odd boyfriend.”
“Well, you have the off bit down.”
“Hey!”
“I mean it as an endearment, Ez’ika!” Sabine clarified with a smirk.
Ezra laughed back before looking into the helmet’s visor.  “So, does marrying a Mandalorian just make me one?”
“Only if you want to.”
Ezra thought for a moment.  “Well, Sabine took my name.  If she wanted to be a Bridger, who am I to not want to be a Wren?”
Tristan and Sabine looked at each other, and shared a smile.  “In that case,”  Tristan walked over to Ezra and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'vod.”
“Huh?”  Ezra blinked.  “Sorry, still new to the whole Mando’a thing.  You said you know-”
“I know your name as my brother,” Sabine said with the flickers of tears in her eyes.  ““It’s the gai bal manda.  The traditional Mandalorian adoption ritual.”
“Modified a bit.” Tristan said with a shrug.  “It’s meant for parents and kids, but with Mom and Dad gone I reworked it a bit.”  He turned to look at Ezra.  “Welcome to Clan Wren, Ezra Bridger.”
Ezra looked at Tristan for a moment, then turned to his wife.  Sabine looked like she was seconds away from tears of joy.  Rather than keep her anxious, Ezra just leaned forward to pull Tristan into a hug.  Complete with Force-enhanced strength.
“GAH!  RIBS!  RIBS!”
“How do you like it now, bro?”
“Why you-!”, Tristan’s complaint was drowned out by the laughter exploding from Sabine.
Ezra had come here thinking he would surprise Tristan.  Who’d have thought he’d be on the reciving end instead?
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goldensunset · 2 years ago
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me continuing to swipe through instagram and youtube knowing full well they’re full of scarvio spoilers (i have not learned my lesson the last thirteen times)
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batsplat · 4 months ago
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casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that
oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...
yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?
anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:
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like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual
uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think
#i will say idm getting asks like this AT ALL but i do hope that's not like. the only bit of the podcast people are paying attention to#my thing with sepang 2015 takes is that like... when's the last time anyone has said anything genuinely interesting about that event#which yes big words from the feud blogger... but in fairness a lot of the sepang 2015 stuff is from old notes. that's my excuse idc#but that's kinda the thing... i feel like i haven't really had a new original thought about the whole drama for three plus years#u do kinda run out. basically the takes say more about the person saying them than about the actual event at this point#which. yeah. casey's comments on sepang '15 are primarily interesting in what they tell you about how he feels towards valentino#mind u he's actually quite nice about valentino in this one? casey call him let's finally organise that dinner#heretic tag#//#brr brr#batsplat responds#oh casey does go on another spiel against riders who win at all costs. ships that passed in the night of feuds i always say#also he gets the age he enters the premier class at wrong. i held myself back in the last post from pointing this out for tonal reasons#but if people want my podcast hot takes. i do simply have to mention it. just to set the record straight here#'they battle for podium places after 2009' genuinely. twice. like the alien era giveth but a lot of the time it really does just taketh#somewhat ironically casey wins the duel when he's on the shitty ducati and vale wins the duel when he's on the even shittier ducati#whatever that tells you idk#casey was always promising the laguna rematch would've gone differently and I love that conceptually but also we just don't know#he was like next time I WON'T play nice and it's like?? omg what does that look like. casey what were you cooking#for ethical reasons it's probably fine but for character arc reasons it's objectively ass that casey ended up being able to do all his -#- racing in a way he was entirely comfortable with for his second title in 2011. like it's just a complete waste of a year#you have this whole thing building for four years and then 2010 comes along and it's like. well that's enough narrative intrigue now! <3#also casey/jorge are fundamentally too interesting as individuals to have had such an obscenely boring on-track rivalry and yet here we are#it KILLS me because if you rearranged it and made valentino's dogshit ducati years like. 2009 or something#and do a straight title fight between jorge and casey THEN I genuinely think it would've been way more interesting#the problem with valentino is that he is fundamentally the WORST imaginable character you could invent to be casey's foil#literally everything about valentino could have been designed to be a casey-specific nightmare#but unfortunately that also makes him objectively the most interesting rival casey could have gotten#like morally it's on the edge. but narratively? literally could not have gotten a better villain in casey's story#constantly dancing on this faustian line of having to imitate valentino to beat him while trying not to lose yourself... juicy
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hannieoftheyear · 20 days ago
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After All This Time (kmg)
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When you're asked to be on the wedding party of a long-lost friend, you get the chance to reconnect with former classmate Mingyu, but not without your old feelings and struggles resurfacing.
pairing: groomsman!mingyu x bridesmaid!reader
w.c: 18,7k
genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, minor angst, it's another self-indulgent 'running away from your high school past' story from me.
warnings: alcohol consumption, a lot of not standing up for oneself, kind of unrealistic wedding timeline (i've never been a bridesmaid so bare with me), mingyu has no flaws here because... im in love with him, this might be badly written I can't really tell anymore | smut: it's messy, and rough, face sitting, unprotected penetration (don't do this), multiple orgasms (f). lmk if im missing anything
still into you by paramore - i often listened to this song while writing this. i wasn't particularly inspired by it but the title did come from its lyrics, and i think it's pretty fitting
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The unopened letter stares at you from across the table. Trying to ignore it by doing your housekeeping chores is pointless. Scrubbing your toilet, doing your laundry, making your bed, and even cooking your meal preps for the entire week, nothing managed to take your head away from that stupid letter, wondering what could possibly be.
You and Olivia haven’t spoken properly since graduating high school many years ago. The last time you had a full-on conversation with her was when she told you she started seeing a new guy freshman year in college, someone who went to your same high school but never knew. Besides that, your only form of “communication” was liking each other's Instagram stories and the yearly happy birthday text. A letter from her addressed to you was the last thing you expected to see today, or ever.
Curiosity finally wins as you take it and inspect it up close. The pastel pink envelope with golden details feels sturdy in your hands, and the wax seal is stamped with two initials, O and T. The boyfriend’s name appears in your memory as the realization hits you. Olivia and Thomas.
This is a wedding invitation.
Opening the envelope just confirms your thoughts, but there’s more to it than just a mere invitation. Just below some details such as dress code and the plus one, there’s a part specifically addressed to you asking you to be one of Olivia’s bridesmaids. Your stomach turns, anxiety, and excitement battling it out in each of your organs. For one, it’s really heartwarming that she thought of you as a friend still and wants you to be a part of such a special day as her wedding. On the other side, it’ll be awkward to see everyone again after such a long time, because, weirdly enough, you never encountered anyone you knew ever again, even if you didn’t move away and still frequented same places as before.
Except, maybe that anxiety is just because of one person, who’s probably going to be more than involved in this wedding. Cassie, your other best friend.
Being a trio was never a problem. Actually, it’s probably the better friend group arrangement for you. The three of you got along immediately since the first day of middle school and never looked back. It was always fun and comfortable, you thought you had found your best friends for life. But something happened around the age when girls start noticing boys, when everyone starts going on dates, flirting, kissing, getting into relationships. That’s when you realized you and Cassie had the exact same type. It became almost like a routine: you’d notice a cute guy around school but didn’t say anything, and the next thing you know, at the next party Cassie would also notice him and hook up with him. You were sure you were in your very own Truman Show.
Was it partially your fault for not saying anything? Maybe, but did it have to happen with literally every single guy you were ever attracted to? It reached a point where you would constantly doubt yourself, compare yourself to her, was she cooler? Prettier? Smarter? Funnier?
In the end, it wasn’t her fault, and you’d never blame her for that, but for your own good and the wellness of your crumbling self-confidence, you had to get away from that situation. And you did. At least until now. But it’s been years, you’re not the same person you were back in high school, and hopefully, all of your self-doubting was also left in the past.
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A sky-high, lavish building stands before you in all of its glory. You were no stranger to your old friend’s rich family, but her lifestyle always managed to take you by surprise.
Olivia wanted all the bridesmaids and groomsmen to meet and get comfortable with each other, so she and her fiancé arranged a little afternoon party at their apartment. Over the few texts you exchanged with Olivia, she failed to mention the other people on the wedding party. So during the elevator ride, you think of every possibility, who could be there that you know? With how many people from school has she kept in contact with? Will you know the groom’s friends?
The doorbell rings inside the busy apartment, and a few seconds later you’re welcomed by your old friend with a bright smile. You hug Olivia tightly, the weirdness of the situation fading away for a few seconds. Afterward, you greet everyone with a shy smile, recognizing some faces and encountering new ones. Some people are standing in groups of three or four, while others sit on the couch or a few scattered chairs, talking with each other comfortably.
“While we wait for the last people to arrive, I want to start telling you what I have planned.”
Olivia announces as you walk away slowly, and you find an empty wall by the hallway to rest against.
At least twenty minutes pass, in which Olivia doesn’t take one breath, her happiness and excitement showing through her endless words. The wedding plan is not really out of the ordinary, but the scale of things, that’s the impressive part. She has seven bridesmaids, including you, plus the maid of honor who hasn’t arrived yet, and her fiancé has the same number of grooms, plus the best man. Each of you will pair up throughout the days coming up to the ceremony, and on the big day, each pair will have matching outfits and even a dance scheduled after the couple’s first dance as a married couple. Her idea was essentially thought so no one would feel out of place and enjoy the ceremony, because it should be a happy day for everyone.
While she explains everything for the second time, you take your time to look around the big room full of people. Scanning every face, there isn’t really a lot of girls you know, but the groomsmen, on the other hand, all of them went to your same high school. It seems Olivia’s fiancé still hangs out with his same group of friends. One of them, in particular, sparks a little smile across your face.
Mingyu was the only other person you considered a real friend in school. As scary and anxiety inducing as it is to have classes without your small friend group, he made it more than bearable, enjoyable even. Becoming friends with the nerdy boy assigned as your lab partner is one of the things you remember fondly about those years of your life. He was like a breath of fresh air during all the turmoil. Would he remember you?
His eyes catch yours from across the room, and an instant smile forms across his lips. After all the years that passed, he still looks the same. He’s much more mature and fully over puberty now, his broad bulky frame being one of the more standing out new things about him, but you’d recognize that confused expression and toothy smile with fangs peeking out anywhere. Your mood rapidly improves as he mouths a ‘hi’ and waves his hand lightly at you, not wanting to interrupt the bride to be. You repeat his greeting with a growing grin, but your small interaction is cut short.
“And Y/Nie,” your name catches your attention, and you turn to Olivia, “you and Mingyu will be our last pair. Is that okay?”
The relief is immediate. It might be a little awkward, but at least you’ll be with someone you know. You and Mingyu look at each other once again and then nod at her, but before she can continue with whatever she is saying, the entry door opens behind her.
“Hi everyone!” The familiar voice makes your stomach drop, “I’m sorry I’m late. My boss wouldn’t let me go.”
“It’s fine. It’s nothing the maid of honor hasn’t heard before.” Olivia replies to her with a chuckle.
She looks the same too, only with longer hair and more mature features on her face. Her body language holds the same coolness, as sure of herself as she was when you were younger.
“Oh my god! I haven’t seen you in so long!” When she greets you, you straighten your posture, put on your best smile, and hug her back. “How are you doing?”
“Hey Cassie, good, good, just working my life away!”
You joke and try to ease up your emotions. Your few words manage to satisfy her as she nods with a smile, walks away, and pecks one of the groomsmen – her boyfriend? – on the lips before sitting by his side.
The schedule is easy for Olivia to finish explaining it, so in no time, food starts rolling in, and conversations pop up between everyone, either catching up or normal everyday chats. Cassie starts telling a story about something that happened earlier at her job, but you don’t really understand it. You haven’t talked to them in so long, you don’t know what they do for a living, or where they work. You don’t know them anymore, and you’re too afraid to ask.
To the side, a couple of people over, Mingyu’s talking with the rest of the grooms' friends comfortably. You want to talk to him, but what would you say? It’s not like you were the closest of friends. You never hung out outside of the school, and your friend groups never actually interacted until now. Actually, you never told Olivia and Cassie about him. Maybe because you were afraid that if you introduced him to Cassie, he’d swoon over her like the rest of the guys you ever interacted with romantically.
An uneasy feeling creeps in on you as memories of your past fight to climb up on your memory. Feelings and thoughts you haven’t felt in years come back up, almost reliving everything in a matter of milliseconds. You need to talk to someone, take your mind off of your overthinking. Because this is not the time nor the place to get so gloomy.
You get to talk with the rest of the bridesmaids, and the anxiousness of it all starts bubbling down, and you’re much more comfortable. A couple of them are close family friends with Olivia, also as rich as her, but still really nice girls, even if a little airheaded, and the rest are friends from college.
Time passes by easily, and soon enough, the sun is already set.
On the ride back home, your mind starts spiraling again. Do you even fit in with all those people? An invite to her wedding would’ve been just fine, but a bridesmaid? You feel like a total stranger, someone from her past who’s meddling around trying to sneak into a place she purposely left behind. At least you won’t have to see anyone ever again after the wedding is over.
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It is said that changing your usual routine helps improving your mood, taking another path home, shopping at a new place, sitting down at a different park, trying a new coffee order, changing the little things to feel more energized and be more productive. You wouldn’t know, because every task you complete as fast as possible to be back home quickly. So, after days of not being able to think about anything else but the upcoming wedding, it’s your only option left.
With the sky lit up with golden light, the grass and trees as green as ever, and a light breeze that prevents you from getting too hot, you walk around a park you’ve never been to before, with your new ‘hot girl walk’ playlist as a soundtrack. The kids running around the playground are the only sounds that get through your ears besides the music, maybe a bark or two as well, and the sun against your skin soothes all your worries. Damn. Going on a walk does fix your mood.
A hand grabbing your arm softly startles you, and you’re about to punch the mystery person when you recognize his face.
“Mingyu?”
His eyes are focused on your fist that was ready to hit him, and you lower it down, beginning to take out your airpods.
“Sorry! You scared me!” You erupt in a nervous laughter.
“I’m sorry! I called your name but you didn’t hear me.” He stands apologetic in front of you, looking down at his feet before daring to look back up. “How are you doing? We didn’t get to talk the other day.”
“Yeah! It’s good to see you! I didn’t expect you to be there, it was a nice surprise.” Is it too weird to say that? Well, it’s already done.
He gets the tiniest bit shy at your words, his ears turning a light shade of pink before disappearing quickly.
You notice a bicycle by his side, a cute pink helmet with glittery heart stickers hanging by the handle. He must’ve been biking when he saw you and took it off before calling your name.
“I didn’t know if you were still friends with Olivia, I didn’t know if I was going to see you either.”
You fixate on the first part of his sentence, ignoring your body’s reaction to him implying he wanted to see you.
“Oh, we’re not really that close anymore.” There’s a silence as you finish your words, as it wasn’t the reply he was expecting. “Life, you know? We just grew apart.”
It was you who stopped making an effort to talk to her, but even if it was still for your own good, you’re a little ashamed to admit it to Mingyu.
“She still asked you to be her bridesmaid. That must mean something.” Ever the positive guy, he tries to make you feel better after the sour comment.
“Yeah, it’s really nice of her.” The sun shining so bright prevents you from looking up at him, but you smile, hoping he can see it.
The slow steps you’ve been taking side by side turn awkward with silence. You wanted so badly to talk to him after the other day, but now that he’s here, in front of you, you can’t think of anything.
“It’s good that you still hang out with the guys.”
You don’t know what else to say, and the words spill out of your mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice the awkward atmosphere, his body as comfortable as ever walking by your side.
“Yeah, even though not as often as I’d like.” A regretful smile forms across his lips. “Our schedules haven’t been lining up, I met Olivia in person maybe a total of three times over the years.”
“What? There’s no way you didn’t share any classes in school?”
He shakes his head, chuckling at your surprise.
“I think I only ever shared one class with her, but I didn’t really care much about her crowd back then.”
“Wow, thanks for that.”
He means all the popular guys your friends would hang out with, and you know it, but there was always something so fun in teasing him and seeing him get so pouty.
"You know I don’t mean you.”
His shoulder pushes your body lightly to the side, and you chuckle together. It’s hard to prevent the red from rushing to your cheeks. Maybe he’ll mistake it for a faint sunburn.
“That’s a cute helmet you got there.” Your eyes point to it as a way to distract him.
“Oh, that?” He picks it up with what seems to be an embarrassed voice tone, but his actions quickly override it. He puts it on proudly and looks at you with his eyebrows raised, “my sister gave it to me when I bought the bike, gets all the ladies.”
“I'm sure it does.”
Attention from women he for sure gets, but probably not because of that thing. His tall, muscular body is enhanced by the tight blue t-shirt he's wearing. You didn’t get a proper look at him the other day, and now, standing next to him in broad daylight, you almost wish you could still live in the ignorance bliss of not knowing the exact height difference between you two.
“So, what are you doing around here?”
His words make you realize you’ve been staring for a few seconds, and you look ahead, hoping he didn’t notice. He forgets to remove the helmet, making you chuckle quietly before answering.
“I just got off from work and thought it would be nice to take a different route home.”
“That’s such a coincidence! I come here, like, almost every week to bike around.”
“Wow, It really is.”
For how long have you been avoiding this specific park for no reason? Pushing away your chance of meeting the one and only person you would’ve wanted to?
A ping from his phone alerts both of you, taking you out of your little bubble.
“Sorry I-" His expression falls as he reads the new text, “I have to get going, but it was really nice seeing you!”
"Oh, sure! I didn’t mean to hold you back.” It comes out quieter than you’d like. “Goodbye!” With a simple smile and a tiny wave at him, you turn around.
Right when he gets on his bicycle again, before he starts pedaling, he looks back at you, taking your first step in the opposite direction.
“Wait!” When you turn around, he’s taking his phone out of his front pocket, “Can I get your number?”
The both of you blush at his words, and you look up at him cautiously.
“So we can catch up and, you know, get comfortable with each other for the wedding.”
You had already forgotten about that. The reason you even met him again in the first place.
“Sure!”
Your hand trembles slightly when you take his phone, and you mentally beat yourself up for it. It’s just your number! It could mean nothing.
“I’ll text you later so you can save mine.”
And with a wink, he’s off to whatever he was late to.
Great. Now you’re not only re-living your high-school anxieties but also your high-school crushes.
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During the following days, you find yourself checking your phone more often than ever, always with the hope that you’ll get a new message from Mingyu. Texting almost every day since the encounter at the park, the time when you’re both free to talk has become your favorite part of the day.
It started shyly, merely updating the other about your lives since finishing high school, your jobs, and hobbies. But as time passed, the never-ending conversation eased onto your daily routines. You’d wake up and text Mingyu, update him as you arrive at work. Lunch, break, evening, clocking out, dinner. Every little free time you got, you’d text each other back and forth.
A text notification cheers you up constantly, thinking that it could possibly be him again. But it’s not always the case, like this time.
It’s Olivia reminding you that, in exactly 29 minutes, you have the dance rehearsal with all the maids and grooms. Half an hour, and you live 1 hour away from the studio she rented. A little white lie never hurt anyone, so you tell her something came up and you'll be just a little late.
You love weddings, but if you had to choose one thing you don’t like about them, it would definitely be the dancing. You can’t dance for shit. You’d tell your right leg to move forward, and your left leg would move backwards, like your body can’t comprehend instructions when they’re related to dancing. Usually, you stay in your seat, choosing not to embarrass yourself in front of all the guests, but this time, you can’t get out of it. Poor Mingyu will leave the class with at least five bruises on his feet from you stepping on him.
The dance studio is part of a new, contemporary looking building on the exact geographic center of the city, a place you would always pass by but never thought you’ll get to enter. Standing at the front desk, over half an hour late, you feel too out of place. Your clothes are probably wrong, your hair is completely disheveled, you don’t remember on which floor is your class, and you don’t even know the name of the dance teacher.
After a long discussion with the receptionist, she finally understands what you’re here for and lets you go up to the 13th floor.
The walk from the elevator to the studio feels longer than it actually is. Three to four footsteps become long, slow turtle-like steps. But not even the infinite time you spend taking four steps prepare you for your stomach to drop down to the basement at the sight of Mingyu dancing with Cassie as soon as you open the door.
His hands on her waist, her arms around his neck, dancing slowly in circles, laughing about something she just said, you can almost hear something inside you break. After all this time, nothing really changed.
“Hey! You’re finally here!”
Olivia’s voice brings you back to earth.
“Hi! I’m really sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” The dance teacher gives you a look, and you lower down your voice, “So how is this going?”
“We had to put them together,” she points the dreaded pair, directing your eyes to them once again, “because neither you or Tyler were here when we started, but after the song’s over you can join him and I’ll practice with Cassie, okay?”
You nod with the best spirit you can manage to express.
“Is Tyler the guy she was with the other day?”
You don’t forget to whisper so the class isn’t interrupted by your chatter.
“He’s the only one of Tom's friends who’s not from school, don’t worry, you didn’t erase him from your memory.”
You stifle a laugh before it gets loud.
“Good, I was starting to feel bad about not recognizing him.”
In reality, his existence doesn’t matter much to you either way, except for something. “Are him and Cassie a thing?”
“She says it’s something casual but, and don’t tell her about this, I paired them up together on purpose so they can finally realize that they like each other!”
Your lungs clear of air in an instant after hearing those words. She’s not available. She has a boyfriend, sort of. A boyfriend who you do not know nor have feelings for.
“Your secret's safe with me.”
“Mingyu's nice and all, but if he messes with my plan and charms her, I will personally revoke his invitation to the wedding.”
You both chuckle just as the song finally ends, yours quieter than hers. Both of them see you with Olivia, but only Cassie comes forward to say hi.
“Hey girls! Good to see you!” She gives you a little hug before directing to Olivia. “So… Tyler isn’t showing up, I assume.”
“He told me a few minutes ago that something came up and can’t come, sorry.”
Her hand flies to Cassie's shoulders to comfort her, but she doesn’t seem bummed by the news.
“Well, then, I have something to ask you.”
Her presence suddenly becomes overwhelming as she grins at you with a proposition in mind, seemingly all thought out.
“Are you close with Mingyu? Olivia told me you were classmates.”
How did she know? Maybe you did tell her about him after all.
“He used to be my lab partner. Why?”
“How did you not crush on him back then? He’s such a cutie.”
“I probably did, I don’t remember.” Lie.
“Could you find out if he has a girlfriend, pleeease?”
A buzzing sound is all you hear for a few seconds, like your brain forgets how to function. Words don’t come out, and you’re freezed in place as Cassie looks at you expectantly. To the side, Olivia looks just as puzzled by her request.
“W-why?”
“Because, he’s really hot and, if I need a quick rebound because of that other fucker, I need to know I’m not messing with a relationship.”
Silence is all you produce once again.
“I just need a tiny bit of info, and it’ll be weird if I ask him directly, so could you please try?”
“Sure… I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.”
You’ve never sounded less excited about something in your whole life. You love some gossip and some drama, but not if it involves a genuinely nice guy like Mingyu being used. Or maybe it’s just because it’s him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Cassie jumps excitedly and hugs you once again, just as the dance teacher calls for everyone to gather.
Mingyu’s hands slot carefully at the sides of your waist, guiding you swiftly and sparking goosebumps across your back. Your arms wrap awkwardly around his neck, making him crouch a bit so you can look properly at each other.
“Were you always this good? Or did you become a professional waltz dancer in the half hour I wasn’t here?”
You remember him telling you the other day, during your endless text conversations, that he, like you, wasn’t particularly excited about dancing.
“Let’s say, hypothetically, that I practiced before coming here, what would that say about me? Hypothetically.”
“It would say that,” you drown out a cackle before you can continue, “you take your duty as a groomsman very seriously, hypothetically.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want you to think I was a dork, hypothetically.”
“You’re too late, I already thought that.”
A pout forms on his mouth at your giggles, and he flashes the world's most menacing puppy eyes ever.
“I mean it in the best way possible!”
“Isn’t it embarrassing?”
“It’s cute!”
His face shifts with skepticism, sending enough signals saying he didn’t like your choice of words.
“It’s charming!”
The warmth his body emanates wraps around you fast. His expectant eyes looking down at you and the closeness of your bodies rises your temperature in record time, your cheeks pinking up furiously. You keep talking as the nervousness takes over you.
“At least it worked! You’re a really good dancer, I’m sorry I keep missing the beats.”
“You’re giving me too much credit. You’re not that bad.”
“Now you’re just lying. My limbs are physically unable to coordinate more than three steps. You’re guiding me through every single one!”
His hands tighten just the tiniest bit around your waist, like a confirmation for the both of you that they’re still there.
The teacher’s voice echoes all around you until it finally punctures your bubble, and you’re able to hear the class you’re here for. The steps she’s explaining for a second time make no sense in your head, too many turns and moves for you (and your body) to comprehend.
“I need all the pairs to practice the final steps again.”
Only her final words make sense on your mind, and when you look towards Mingyu, his hand left its place on your body and is extended at you, his eyes kind yet concentrated back on the dance. You nod, taking his hand with an electrifying rush going through your veins.
Mingyu guides you firmly but with care, moving along the beats of the waltz. With each step, your synchronization improves, and the moves flow along easily, your bodies understanding each other. You can’t help but smile as you look him in the eyes, a familiar warm feeling bubbling up inside you.
“You're doing a really good job.”
His eyes catch yours, a little wrinkle forming by each of their sides before he cracks a smile to match yours. There’s something in the way he looks like when paying attention to you, like a spell being casted on you, making you crave more.
“It’s because it’s comfortable with you.”
Your mouth betrays you and sends out the words without checking with your brain, but weirdly enough, you don’t fear his reaction. It’s just the truth.
“We’re more in synch than you thought.”
You swear you see a glimpse of a smirk before he spins you in his arms.
As you turn and move together through the song, you think your excitement isn't solely because of the rehearsal going well. It could be simply a wish, but a spark of something is definitely lighting up. The way Mingyu holds you, attentive and confident, you can't help to think he feels it too.
“You think we can be this good the day of the wedding?”
There’s more anticipation than curiosity in your voice, remembering you’ll keep meeting until then, you’ll keep seeing him.
Mingyu reaches closer until his warm breath fans your ear and his lips graze your cheek.
“We could meet a few days before and practice, like I hypothetically did today.”
“You think I need practice?” You tease to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Maybe it’s an excuse to see you again.”
A mix of shyness and giddiness overtakes you as you giggle at his proposition. But in the midst of your interaction, you skip a crucial move and begin to turn, stepping right on one of Mingyu’s feet and almost tripping over to the side. His hand secures you by the waist, the hem of your t-shirt raised just enough so his fingers brush your fiery bare skin.
“Ok, maybe I do need the practice too.”
The teacher talks to you on the background, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything other than Mingyu’s touch lighting fires across your body, his worried eyes over your ‘almost’ fall, and his smile when he realizes you’re laughing at your clumsiness.
The music starts over, and you only realize it because his hand is extended at you once again.
“Let’s give it another try.”
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“So, you didn’t get to ask him?”
“I’m sorry, I forgot about it. I was so focused on learning the dance that it slipped my mind.”
Running into Cassie coming out of the subway was the last thing you expected (and wanted) right now. Trying on dresses is the one bridesmaid related thing you were least excited about. So many hours of putting clothes on and off, picking colors, showing the rest of the girls, giving your opinion on their dresses, and listening to their opinions on yours. It just sounds so exhausting. But your mental pep talk got interrupted when Cassie saw you walking up the stairs of the station heading to the bridal shop.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
“He didn’t say anything that would imply he has one, if that helps.”
More than a helping hand to her, you're starting to hope he’s single too.
“That’s good to know, thank you.”
“I don’t really get why you wanted to know, though. I thought you had a boyfriend.”
“He’s not... I mean, it’s not like, official. I wanted him to get jealous, but I'm over that now.”
“Oh, so... you talked about it with him?"
“Kind of... he just explained why he couldn’t come to the rehearsal, and I just, couldn’t get mad at him simply for that, right?”
“Right...”
You know virtually nothing about their ‘relationship’, or about him for that matter, so it’s maybe for the best to stay out of their… thing.
“Anyway, about today, do you have something in mind for your dress?”
“Not really, I was just thinking of browsing through the store and seeing what they have.”
“Wow, really? You’re so chill about it. I have a pinterest board with all the styles and shapes I like. I even checked their online store to see what they have in stock beforehand.”
“That’s… actually really smart.”
“Nah, don’t be nice. Did you at least think of a color? Olivia wants all of us to be different colors, but in pastel, obviously. I personally didn’t really care about it, but I chose pink after some thought.”
“Oh, actually, I didn't know that.”
“It’s okay, you can decide when we get there.”
“Did the rest of the girls choose already?”
“Maybe? I haven’t had the chance to ask them.”
“I hope I don’t get green then, I don’t really like how it looks on me.”
“You’ll look amazing either way. Don’t let a simple color wear you down!”
Small talk with Cassie turns out to be quite nice in the short walk you have up to the store. It's a pretty shallow conversation, but not at all stressful like you thought.
The place is really fancy looking, tall glass windows and blinding white interior. It makes you take a breath just by looking at the displayed dresses. Relieved that Olivia said multiple times that she’ll take care of everything and not to worry about the prices, you and Cassie walk inside.
You didn’t expect every girl to be already there, and you especially didn’t expect the groomsmen to be also all there. The girls browse through racks and racks of different shaped and colored dresses, and the men are sitting back, talking with one another, waiting for their bridesmaid to ask for their opinion.
Cassie goes straight to greet Mingyu with a hug. Even if he isn’t the closest one to the door. Even if Tyler is there also. And you walk behind her, slowly, shy because of all the people aware of your arrival. You give Mingyu a shy smile as a greet, and he returns it warmly.
After the dance rehearsal all those days back, you’ve been hesitant about contacting him again. There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s quite the opposite, actually. He’s caring, attentive, and kind towards you. You just don’t want to fall in your black hole of a crush on him again. especially after Cassie made it clear to you that he’s caught her eye too. Sure, she just told you she made up with her boyfriend, but her actions are already contradicting her words.
Olivia sees you with Cassie and walks quickly towards you two with a smile on her face.
“Hey girls! How do you like the store?! Isn’t it huge?”
“It’s unbelievable! I’m gonna need at least two hours to look through all the dresses!”
Cassie answers, staring at the lengthy room in awe. You can feel Mingyu’s eyes on you. Or maybe on Cassie. Regardless, you’re in his line of sight, and it gives you chills.
“Well, you have all the time in the world today. I reserved the whole store for the entire day for all of us, and the staff is also here to help us if needed, so don’t worry about asking for help!”
“That’s amazing!” You both exclaim at the same time.
“Thank you!” Cassie doesn’t look back and goes straight to the racks of pink dresses. You’re about to go and walk around as well. Maybe try to find a color that suits you, but Olivia stops you before you can even take a step.
“Wait! I got the list of the available colors left for you,” she hands you a sheet of paper with almost everything on it crossed out, “I’m sorry, I know there isn’t much left.”
“Oh don’t worry, it’s fine. I should’ve picked it earlier. It’s not your fault.”
It’s disappointing to see that only two items aren’t crossed out. Light teal and pastel green. Green and teal aren’t ugly colors by any means, but you always feel awkward when wearing them, so you’ve learned to avoid them. The back of your throat itches to close as you think about looking ugly at the wedding, in front of so many people, in front of him.
“I saw some of the teal dresses earlier, and they’re all super cute! You’ll look amazing!”
“Oh, ok, I’ll go check them out. But, just in case, isn’t there any way for me to change colors?”
“You could ask someone to swap with you.”
Your mind instantly goes to Cassie. Earlier, she told you she didn’t care which color she wore, maybe she wouldn’t mind switching with you. You spot her easily on one corner, asking Mingyu about his opinion. She looks up at him with glittery eyes as one of her hands places itself on his arm. The sight turns your stomach upside down. You want to stop watching the scene as much as you want to break them apart.
Your legs make the decision for you and walk you to where they’re standing. They don’t notice you walking over to them until you speak up.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt you guys, but Cassie, could I ask you something?”
Mingyu’s the first one to look up at you, his face lighting up as you interrupt whatever Cassie was saying to him. She’s slower, making sure to hang the dress back on the rack before turning to face you.
“What do you need?”
There's very little annoyance on her tone, but you don’t miss the way her eyebrows arch and her eyes dart to Mingyu, signaling you that she wants some alone time.
“I wanted to ask if you, by any chance, were willing to switch colors with me?”
“What happened? Which ones are left?”
“Basically, just green.”
“Oh, that’s such a bummer.”
There’s a silence when she finishes talking. You wait for her to continue, blinking at her, but she just doesn’t. Her sentence ended there.
“Yeah, so, would you swap with me?”
“I…” Her body language turns awkward as she thinks of an answer, side-eyeing Mingyu, who’s also waiting for her, but with no context to what you’re asking her.
“I just, you said you didn’t really care about the color, so I thought you wouldn’t mind changing it.”
You huff, not helping the awkward atmosphere around the three of you. Your eyes connect with Mingyu’s, who's silently watching the interaction from the side. You hate that he’s seeing you in such a state, so... desperate for something that’s not that big of a deal anyway. You need this interaction to be over.
“You’re right, I did say that,” you can already see where this is going, “but, I kinda already put my mind to it, and it took a lot of convincing to get Tyler to match with me. He already bought his suit, and I don’t want to make him mad by changing everything so suddenly, I’m sorry.”
“Oh…”
You can feel your stomach contracting, your throat threatening to close, your eyes getting ready to be filled with tears. This is so stupid. It’s just a stupid color. It's a stupid dress you’ll never wear again. Why is it affecting you so much?
“Wait, I’m sure Tyler wouldn’t mind changing.”
Mingyu’s soft voice sounds closer to you, but you can’t really see much with your eyes trained to the ground and vision blurry from tearing up.
“No, it’s fine, let’s not bother him.”
Blinking away the tears is easy, but looking up and finding a concerned Mingyu makes you feel like jelly. Cassie’s long forgotten as you focus on him, his tall figure watching over you, his hand placed on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, silently comforting you.
“I’ll go try and find something I like.”
“I can look with you if you want.”
“No, it’s fine, you can go back to what you were doing.”
You walk away, leaving him standing there, still worried about your sudden reaction. Cassie is just behind him, waiting for the opportunity to get his attention back.
But you try not to think about him or her while browsing through the store. Trying your best to be positive, to not get dragged down by a simple color choice, or by a friend – if you can call her that – that couldn’t help you.
Hours go by, and it’s easier when you focus on other things. You help the other girls decide on their dresses, reacting and applauding, helping them find new ones if they aren’t satisfied. It’s fun, contrary to what you previously thought, it’s like playing a dress up game, except every now and then, it’s Cassie who comes out on the make-shift runway, and the first opinion she asks for is always Mingyu's.
At one point, everyone has already decided, and you’re the only one left. All the girls you helped come together to try and find you the best possible dress, bringing a new one to you with hopeful smiles on their faces every few minutes.
You try them on, eager to find one and be done with it. But, even if they look gorgeous when on the hanger, they always got something that doesn’t sit right with you when you put them on. And after trying dress after dress, you grow more discouraged.
Olivia notices how tired you are and tells you that you can come back another day, alone and less anxious, but then again, that would mean stretching the situation for longer than needed. You decide to try on one more dress, one that Olivia picked specifically for you, and if you’re not satisfied, you’ll come back with her the next day.
The store lady helps you put the dress on, her sweet smile never fading, even if it’s the tenth dress she helped you put on already. The pastel green silk fabric glides smoothly over your skin, hugging you in the right places as the lady zips it up. Your back’s facing the mirror, too afraid to look in it again and find another disappointing result.
“Sweetheart, I think this is the one.”
The kind woman’s voice startles you, but her honest smile makes you believe her words. You inhale deeply, calming yourself before turning around. But instead of looking at your reflection, you walk outside the changing room and onto the lobby.
Every pair of eyes is on you the moment you step out, your arms wrap around your torso in an effort to shield yourself, and you can feel your cheeks being painted a bright red color. A few gasps are heard, and when you look around, the girls who helped you are all covering their mouths, eyes wide as they watch you cautiously strolling forward.
At the back of the store, it’s like time stops for Mingyu. Whatever he was doing, forgotten at the sight of you. He was unaware of how much your appearance could affect him. His eyes are trained on you, allured by your figure, scanning you up and down like a piece of art worth studying.
Buzz erupts all around you, mumbles and praises about your dress and how you look in it, but it’s all background noise for you. Mingyu’s heavy stare finds yours, and his ears turn a faint shade of pink. The subtlest smirk begins to form on his lips, spreading the warm feeling on your tummy all across your body. He can’t seem to drive his eyes away from you, and you don’t want him to. Your arms relax under his gaze, disarming the protective shield around you and drop to hang by your sides.
But, in a matter of seconds, the girls swarm around you, blocking all 360 degrees around you. Their positive opinions flood your ears as they walk you back to the dressing room, trying to convince you to choose this dress. You can’t look back, but you’re sure all the groomsmen left together.
Doesn’t matter. You’re definitely getting this one.
After spending the whole day shopping together, it marvels you how these girls still want to spend time together. When they noticed all the boys left, they planned an impromptu girls' night at Olivia’s apartment.
It’s amazing how they can spend hours and hours talking with each other, a few drinks here and there, never running out of topics, entertaining you when you’re too tired to talk.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you sit back on your side of the couch to read the new text.
Mingyu: hey, how are you?
Mingyu: sorry i couldn’t stay today, they dragged me to a boys night
Everything that happened a few hours ago flashes through your mind, waking a giddy smile on your face as you reply.
You: why are you sorry?
You: the girls wanted to do a ‘boys free’ night, we’re at Olivia’s rn
Mingyu: i didnt want to leave before making sure you were okay
Oh.
You: im better now
You: it was fun helping the other girls, took my mind off of it
You: but thank you, you didnt have to worry
Mingyu: good to know :)
Mingyu: next time ill drive you home
You: drive me home? Will i sit on the bike's handlebar?
Mingyu: i was thinking more like a piggyback ride
You: hmm... ill have to think about it
You tune back to the conversation before anyone notices you not paying attention, having no idea what turns the topic has taken in the time you weren’t listening.
“I think he’s definitely seeing someone.”
The girls divided into two groups with different conversations going on, but sitting in front of Cassie, you can only hear her side of the table. They might be talking about Tyler and their “relationship” problems.
“I really don’t think he is. He didn’t use his plus one you know.”
A smile forms in your mouth when your phone vibrates in your hand once again.
Mingyu: can you believe the wedding’s so close already
You: times moving so fast
You: i cant believe its less than two weeks away
Mingyu: it feels like it was only yesterday that tom told me he was getting married
“But today, he didn’t seem at all interested, he was really out of it from the start.”
“Maybe seeing dresses all day is not his thing.”
“No but like, I tried every move on him, and he didn’t even bat an eye.”
Bits and pieces of the still going conversation manage to register on your mind, and you realize they’re talking about Mingyu, unaware of your current chat with him.
You: is the boys only hang out getting boring? Its not very polite to be on the phone you know
Mingyu: theyre all playing games, havent looked my way in over 30 mins
Mingyu: besides i much rather talk with you
You: well i wont argue with that
Mingyu: you seem bored too
You: you’re definitely helping me get through the night
“Maybe he’s just not interested in you.”
Olivia teases Cassie, even though her comment is more than just a joke. But why is Cassie so adamant on wooing Mingyu if, according to Olivia, she really likes Tyler?
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Mingyu: you know what I just realized
Mingyu: I forgot the dance routine already
You: omg me too
You: we might have to meet to practice like you said
Mingyu: we can do it at my place
Mingyu: you up for it?
You: i should ask you that
You: your feet are going to suffer because of me
Mingyu: that’s a risk im willing to take
Mingyu: but I gotta warn you, I take my practice very seriously
You: sure, you can carry me back to my apartment after we're done
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Sitting on Mingyu’s couch, waiting for him to get back from the bathroom, you’re too tired to do anything else than looking around his living room. It’s so him. The warm and neutral colors make everything feel cozy, with pictures of him and his family hanging on the walls – no ambiguously romantic photos with unfamiliar girls, and everything is so tidy, not one pillow out of place, even after practicing for over an hour. Out the window, you can see the sun starting to set, and the buildings across the street start lighting up. You recognize all of them. 
All this time, he’s lived so close to you. His building barely a ten minute walk away from yours. You can’t help but wonder, what would’ve happened if you kept in touch, if you just walked two more minutes to the park he frequents, or sent him a follow request on Instagram the few times he popped up on your recommended. It comforts you that at least you have this chance to reconnect with him, to make things right. 
But sounding confident over text is easy, and now, you’ve only danced for the whole time you’ve been here, barely even talked about anything else. 
It’s conflicting, the guilt of meeting with Mingyu behind everyone’s back – even if it’s no one’s business –, the excitement of seeing him alone after weeks of only wedding related stuff, and the actual need to practice the dance so you don’t embarrass yourself, all colliding in your mind, making everything awkward for you. 
Like ten thousand spectators, the windows of every apartment watch you through the glass, just sitting, waiting. Mingyu left only a couple of minutes ago, but after the many times you stepped on him, you wonder if he’s actually hurt. 
“Are you okay? Tell me if I need to call a doctor for your feet!” 
You shout with your head looking towards the bathroom door. His chuckle travels all the way to your ears before he opens the door. 
“I’m fine, I swear.” 
As he comes out, your body tingles with nervousness once again. He sits beside you on the couch, unknowingly making your head spin. 
“You sure? I don’t think feet are supposed to withstand all of that.” 
“I’m okay, just tired, why don’t we rest for a bit?” 
They way he sits, on his side, facing you, and his arm resting on the back of the couch, your eyes can’t help but wander to where his arm muscles start showing. Every variation of the phrase “butterflies in your stomach" could describe the way you feel as he watches you, paying so much attention that you mumble your next sentence. 
“This couch is way too comfortable. It makes me want to just stay here the rest of the day.” 
“Let’s do it! We can even have dinner here. If we order take out, we can tell them to leave it at the door.” 
“That sounds nice, but one of us will have to go get it.” 
“When my roommate comes home, he’ll bring it inside for us.” 
“Oh my god, you have a roommate? When is he coming back? I don’t want to be a bother.” You look towards the entry hallway, like he’s about to come in and kick you out. 
You really don’t want to leave, Mingyu’s company is already becoming one of your favorites, but you hadn’t counted on being around another person, and in their home for that matter. You start to get up from where you’re sitting, worried about having overstayed your welcome, but Mingyu’s hand grabs yours softly and drags you back down. 
“I invited you here. It’s not like you’re trespassing.” 
“But I’ve been here for hours, is it not too much?” 
“I guess I don't want you to leave.” 
His hand hasn't let go of yours, his skin against yours waking up your whole nervous system. You like how it feels when he’s looking at you, but you can’t help feeling too observed under his gaze. 
“Should we practice one more time?” You get up as your other hand takes Mingyu’s free one to try and get him off the couch too. He doesn’t fight your push, but you still struggle to move him barely an inch. 
“Now that I think about it, my feet do really hurt.” 
When he stands up, your hands dreadly separate as you go press play on the song you had paused earlier. 
“You’re a big and strong man, you can handle one more dance.” 
The music starts slowly, and when you turn around to go where Mingyu’s standing, he’s quick to put his hands around your waist and bring you to him. 
Like that day in the dance class, your bodies are quickly coordinated. You’ve been over the same dance for over an hour now, so at this point, every step is engrained in your muscle memory forever. 
“Why don’t you take the lead on this one?” He might’ve felt your sudden confidence in the moves, but fails to realize it’s only because you’re doing it with him. 
“Do you have a death wish? The last time I tried to take the lead on a dance like this, it ended really badly.” 
“But you’re doing good now! I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad.” 
“Don’t you remember the senior prom? When I made my date trip and he fell onto the chocolate fountain? He got completely covered in melted chocolate.” He shakes his head, making you more confused. “He dislocated his shoulder. You really don’t remember? 
“I don’t-” He chuckles at your story but stops his words when he realizes you don’t get what he wants to say, “We left early.” 
“Oh… I guess you had a good time with your date.” Thinking about him with someone else puts a bad taste in your mouth. 
“I didn’t have a date, I went with the guys.” Somehow, that’s less believable than you being a good dancer. 
“I vaguely remember seeing you dance with a girl. Is my memory failing me?” You remember because you hated it. 
“Maybe I did dance with someone, but I couldn’t score a real date.” 
“You can’t be serious.” 
“I am! Why don’t you believe me? 
“Because I knew at least ten girls who had a crush on you back then.” 
The dance is already forgotten. None of you make the effort to go over the moves. With your arms hanging around his neck and his hands holding on to your waist, you’re just going around in slow circles, eyes connected as your talk turns into something more. 
“Well, I wasn’t interested in them.” 
“But still, you could’ve easily gotten a date.” You could let the subject go, and maybe you should, but you really want to make your point. “I would’ve gone with you.” 
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 
“But I mean it.” 
“You wouldn’t have gone with me.” 
“You don’t know that.” 
“Yes I do!” His tone gets serious, and it just makes you more desperate to make him understand. He needs to know he’s wrong. 
“No, you don’t! You would know if you had asked!” 
“I wanted to! 
You stop in your tracks, looking straight into his eyes, seeing little hints of shock on his face as he realizes what he said. If your bodies were closer, you’re afraid he could feel that you stopped breathing for a second. 
“Why didn’t you?” 
“Because I knew at least ten guys who had crushes on you back then,” you’re about to shut him off, but he continues, “and you did end up going with one of them.” 
“So, you did see me.” 
“Yeah, didn’t stay much after that."
None of you know what to say, as your minds work tirelessly to understand what this conversation means. 
“You really should’ve asked me.” There’s so much more you want to say, but you simply can’t. 
“You were kind of popular and, I don’t know… It messed with my head.” 
“I didn’t care about those stupid labels, and I thought you didn’t either.” 
“I know you didn’t, but I wasn’t a confident kid back then, I couldn’t just go up to the girl I liked and ask her out.” 
Your jaw reaches the floor after hearing those words. The girl he liked? 
Speechless for a few seconds, you can only look at him, trying to figure out if he meant to say those words specifically. He seems to be proud of what he said, showing no sign of regret. 
“So, now that you’re all grown up…” you dare to let your fingers caress the skin at the base of his neck, and his hands tighten around you at the touch. 
“One would think that, after so many years, things would’ve changed but-” 
“I don’t believe you’re not confident by now.” 
“That did change, but apparently, other things didn’t, even after growing up.” 
He tilts his head to the side cockily, his piercing gaze making you feel hot all over. 
“Maybe some things aren’t meant to change.” Like an adrenaline rush, it’s your turn to feel confident as one of your hands starts playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I'm starting to discover some things are not that different for me either.” 
“Could it be, perhaps, the same thing I’m talking about?” His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him little by little. 
“Hmm, I don’t know, you’re being very vague, I could be talking about still enjoying country music.” You joke so he doesn’t notice your heart beating twice as hard as normal. 
“I think you know what I mean.” His smirk is one new thing about him, not that you’ve never seen it before, but the reason behind it makes it way more thrilling to see now. 
“I want to hear you say it.” 
“You really didn’t know? I mean, back then, I always thought I made it obvious.” His chuckle sends shivers down your spine. 
“I wish I did.” You can’t help but think about how your life would be if you made a move on him all those years ago. “But I never said anything either, I was shy too.” 
“Good thing we can make up for the time we lost.”
His droopy eyes send you down a spiral you have a hard time coming back from, all your insides becoming putty, feeling his want through his embrace, but there’s still one more thing to get to. 
“You know… you say you’re so confident now and whatnot, but I still haven’t heard you say it.” The look you give him is all he needs 
“Fine, you win, I used to like you, and seeing you again made me realize I still kinda really do, I’m always eager to get your attention and to spend time with you.” He pauses to take the quickest breath ever, all while you’re losing yours. “I know we’re not the same people as back then, but if you want to, we can get to know each other, again, more mature and less stupid. I have my regrets about how I handled my feelings in the past, but I won’t make the same mistakes again. And I will ask you on a date after the wedding, just a heads up.” 
“Wow, I was fine with just an ‘I like you’, but it’s nice to see you’re just as down bad for me as I am for you.” You confess with a joke because, how can you possibly answer that? Your brain is barely receiving enough oxygen as it is. 
“And one last thing, I really, really, really, want to kiss you right now.” 
“Then why are you not doing it?” 
It takes a second for the words to register in his head. A second where you only look at each other, almost not believing what’s happening. The air around you gets so thick, so hot, almost unbearably heavy. And just when your hands begin to push his head your way, his lips attack yours.  
All the resurfacing feelings come to life, colliding like a thousand stars that have been running to meet for millions of years. His arms around you bring your body closer to his, forcing you on your tiptoes to follow his lead while his hair tangles between your fingers. 
It's surprisingly slow, yet hungry and desperate, making the other feel everything through the connection of your lips. You move along with him naturally, and when he bites your lower lip as a request for access, you don’t hesitate. His hands creep under your shirt just as his tongue dares to move past your lips, exploring your whole body to his liking. 
Your chests flush together, leaving little to no space between your bodies, and you can do nothing but melt in his embrace. Your hands wander around his arms and back, touching and feeling every muscle they encounter on their way. When his hands travel down your lower back and reach your ass, you sigh on his lips and immediately feel his smirk against you. 
A furious knock on the door makes you both jump and separate, leaving you looking at each other, breathless and with confused faces, until you hear a knock again, as strong as the first one. That’s when Mingyu decides to check his phone and sees it's his roommate, who had apparently forgotten his keys. Both a blessing and a curse. 
“Bro, what the hell? I’ve been calling you for about 15 minutes.” You hear the door opening, followed by a new, deep voice. 
“I told you I had company.” Their voices echo through the hallway. 
When they finally reach the living room where you’ve been awkwardly trying to make yourself look presentable, the roommate's face morphs into something, a mix of surprise and realization. You rush to gather your stuff after muttering some variation of ‘hello’ and 'goodbye' to him. Your heart still pumps twice as fast as normal, and you don’t trust you’ll be able to handle yourself if you stay for longer. 
“I’ll see you on the weekend?” Mingyu asks when you’ve both reached the entry, his hand on the handle, hesitant to unlock the door. 
You want to kiss him again so badly. His lips are parted, still swollen, calling to you to connect them with yours again. 
“Find me when you crash the bachelorette party.” You make your best effort to sound confident and not at all dizzy because of him.  
“You know about that?” 
“The bridesmaids know everything... It’s only a surprise for Olivia.” You peck him goodbye, like a promise for more. And the feeling of his lips on yours lasts all night.
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It’s roughly around 1 am. when a high-pitched scream from Olivia announces to everyone at the bar that the bachelor party has officially arrived. 
The effects from all the alcohol you consumed in the last 4 hours are just starting to fade, only a little buzz left. But that doesn’t prevent you from seeing what’s happening all the way across the room. 
Mingyu standing with his hip resting on the barstool, listening to Cassie as she drunkenly asks him something. You want to stop looking, not wanting to let all your previous feelings resurface again, not after the recent development in your relationship with him. But just as soon as you’re about to turn your head the other way, Mingyu interrupts Cassie’s rumbling and tells her something, to which she doesn’t respond, nods awkwardly, and just walks away, leaving him standing there. 
That’s your signal to walk over to him. 
“Looks like I found you first.” 
“Damn, I wanted to get you a drink first.” 
The music and the people drunkenly signing and shouting makes it hard for your voices to reach the other, and Mingyu takes the opportunity to take a step closer to you. 
You stand against the bar as the room grows warmer and warmer the closer his body gets to yours. His height taunts you as he stands against the bar as well, forcing you to look up so you can see the smirk on his face. His fingers play with yours as the intensity of his stare increases. You don’t care that you’re in public, that anyone from the wedding can see you two. Maybe you want them to. 
“How’s your night going?” His hair tickles the side of your face. 
“It was really fun, I might be growing fond of the girls." You don’t remember much, just a vague memory of many different games you played to get drunk, and the feeling of being happy. “How about yours? Don’t tell me you went to a strip club or something like that.” 
“Actually, we did a drunk escape room, didn’t even know those existed until today.”
The closeness between you is getting more worrying by the second, mainly because if you hear his low chuckle next to your ear one more time, you might pass out. 
“That sounds horrible!” You chuckle away from his personal space, only to encounter his hungry eyes already looking at you. 
“It was fun, I wish you could’ve been there.” His honesty has a sultry tone to it that makes your lungs completely empty of air. 
“I’m not sure we would’ve made a good team.” 
“Why? You’re smart! Or at least you were back then.” 
“Hey! I still am!” 
“I really have to get to know this new you.”
The pink and blue lights reflect on his face, giving him the most beautiful sparkles on his eyes, directed at you. 
“It’s not that new, I’m still very introverted, don’t talk much when there’s a lot of people around.” 
“I like that, you’re observant, good thing to be while in a escape room.” 
“We’re still talking about that?” 
“Maybe, maybe not, I don’t really care, I just wanted to spend time with you.” 
“Are you drunk?” You can only ask with a smile plastered on your face, but he shakes his head. 
“You kinda make me feel like I’m a teenage boy again, I don’t know how to explain it.” 
“I think I get it.” You place your hand on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart under it, even harder than the music blasting out of the speakers. 
“You know, back then, every time I had a free period, I would make my friends walk past whatever class you had, just to get to see you, at least for a second.” Out of everything he’s drunkenly confessing, this may be the one that surprises you the most because you really never realized he felt the same. He notices you freezing in place. “Once they found out, I was relentlessly bullied by them.” 
“I sure hope it was worth it.” If the lighting was any better, he'd be able to see the cherry red covering your cheeks and ears. 
“Every second of it.” Everything around the two of you moves slower, like time’s stopping only for the outside world, and the muffled background noises do nothing to pierce the bubble around you. “I really want to take you on a date, a real one.” 
“I would very much like that.” 
You can see the gears turning through Mingyu’s eyes, and you move your eyes down to his lips so he can take the hint. But nothing happens as someone else enters your little world. 
Olivia’s aware that something’s going on, her eyes switching back and forth between the two of you before she speaks. 
“I need your help, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m getting worried about her.” 
“About who? What happened?” Mingyu stays behind you as you turn to Olivia, grabbing one of your hands, and his warmth gives you goosebumps. 
“It’s Cassie, she’s been sitting alone in the restroom for I don’t know how long, she's way too drunk and I can’t take care of her.”
You now realize she’s slurring her words, meaning she’s also too drunk and therefore can’t take care of another drunk person, leaving you no choice but to go help Cassie. You look back at Mingyu, who encourages you to go, even if it takes a little too long for his hand to let go of yours. 
The graffitied restroom provides you with a little more light than the rest of the place, and when you enter, you recognize Cassie sitting on the floor inside one of the stalls. Luckily there’s no one guarding the bathrooms because if she’s seen throwing up, it could potentially get you both kicked out. 
You sit on the dirty floor beside her without saying a word, letting her know you’re here to help without giving her a headache. Her forehead’s resting on top of her knees as she hugs her legs tightly. But after a minute or two of silence, you decide it’s best to check if she’s at least awake. 
“Cassie? Are you okay?” Your hand on her shoulder makes her look up at you. 
“I don’t feel so good, I just want to sit down for a while.” She sounds tired, her husky voice giving away all the talking and singing she’s been doing all night. 
“Do you need anything? I can get you a cup of water.” 
“No, please, just stay here a bit, I didn’t want anyone to see me but I don’t want to be alone.” 
“Ok, I’ll stay, let me know if you need something, anything.” 
Time passes by, the music making it easier for you to not get bored. A few people enter the restroom from time to time, too drunk or too in a hurry to notice you both sitting down. Olivia passes by the door a few times, hovering, checking if everything’s okay (and if you’re still in the same position as the previous time). You just smile and nod, letting her go back to her party time and time again. But at last, in one of her check-ins, she finally walks inside. 
“Hey, Mingyu’s looking for you!” Both you and Cassie look up at Olivia, but her eyes point at you. “What do I tell him?” 
You instinctively look to Cassie by your side, and her expression falls. 
“Don’t, don’t go with him.” She finds the strength to plead to you, but she seems more worried than anything. 
“Why? Did he do something? Is that why you’re hiding here?” Olivia asks, and you realize she didn’t leave after you didn’t answer her. 
“No, no, I mean, yes I’m hiding from him, but he didn't do anything, it was me, I embarrassed myself.” 
“Why are you telling me not to go with him then?” 
“Do you like him?” 
“I-” Wow, blunt question out of the blue. 
“You can be honest, it’s fine.” 
“Yeah, I do, I like him.”
Telling them, her, the truth feels kind of freeing. Finally admitting in front of them that you like someone, after not being able to for so many years, it’s like you can finally breathe. 
“Then, for your own good, don’t go with him, he’s seeing someone.” 
“What? How do you know?” That freedom lasts barely seconds before a new weight falls right on top of your lungs. 
“He told me, when the guys got here, he said that he’s been after a girl for years and they recently started going out.” 
“Are you sure? Did he use those words?” 
“I’m not saying it verbatim, I don’t remember it exactly word for word, but that’s what he meant.” 
Could he possibly be talking about you? How recent is ‘recently’ supposed to mean? You haven’t even started officially dating. Is confessing your feelings considered the start of dating? Is it supposed to be this confusing? Are you going to believe her? Not that Cassie’s a liar, but you don’t know the context nor the exact words he used, and she doesn’t know what happened between you and him either. 
“Should I go tell him something?” Olivia's already standing up, your silence not helping the situation. 
“Just-" You don’t want to push him away, but it’s not the time to resolve this. The whole thing is too confusing to be making desperate decisions at this hour of the night, “Tell him to go have fun with the guys, I’m getting Cassie home.” 
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The loudest alarm you could’ve ever set up wakes you up with a jump. Your head hurts like your inside out emotions are building houses inside your skull. But the memories still hit you as soon as your eyelids burst open. Some decisions were definitely made the night before. Wrong ones? That’s to be seen today.
And thanks to the gods and Olivia’s always late waking family, you’re not supposed to be at the venue until 11 am. Only bad news, It’s on a luxury complex outside the city. You have time for a real breakfast and a shower, but all the thinking and feeling will have to wait.
You unlock your phone to find the last text conversation open and the messages you barely remember sending stare at you through the dim screen.
Mingyu: you left so suddenly
Mingyu: everything ok?
You: yeah
You: had to take Cass to her place, she wasn’t feeling well
Mingyu: that’s too bad, hope she feels better
Mingyu: you just got home?
You: yep, about to go to bed
Mingyu: great, just checking before i head to sleep
Mingyu: sleep well, big day tomorrow
Admittedly, you were a little dry. Cassie’s words were still lingering on your mind, making you doubt everything. One side of your brain telling you that he was probably talking about you, he explained what he felt and what he wanted and sounded sure and truthful. But, the other part of your brain, the still self-conscious and self-doubting side, also makes valid points. The void years in between your relationship weren’t mentioned in his confession, and you technically aren’t dating. He hasn’t even asked you out yet! It’s too conflicting. But you know you have to face both of them today. After the ceremony.
The taxi ride to the venue is not only long but full of traffic. The sun shining bright directly to your face, the light humming of the driver to the songs of the radio and the occasional car horn on the distance, somehow make it bearable, with all the thoughts about the previous night, switching sides between the he said she said, it’s nice to have something constant while your minds goes on a rollercoaster.
A rollercoaster that doesn’t stop even when you arrive. As soon as you step foot outside the car, Olivia’s mom rushes you upstairs to where the make-up artists set up. There’s no time to admire the beautiful countryside venue. You walk past the door to where the ceremony’s going to be held later, but rush up the stairs without even looking. The green dress already waiting for you at the door, an infinite echo of voices and even more people running around make the atmosphere feel dizzying.
Nothing slows down for even a second. Even when you’re sitting down having your make-up done, around you there’s only people rushing to do everything, stressing about the little details, people running into the room to tell Olivia or her mom about decorations, the wedding planner coming in and out constantly, checking everything’s in order. It’s kind of beautiful how all this mess has the sole purpose of making today the best day for the couple. Even if it doesn’t look like it, no one will remember the dress that wasn’t properly ironed, or the string of hair that had too much hairspray on it, or the too slippery shoes that made it a chore to walk on the tiled floor.
So much chaos happens between the hair and make-up, and then with the photoshoots, you don’t have time to talk to Mingyu. Your eyes would cross from time to time, but those milliseconds of him in a suit glaring at you from across the room are enough, and there’s so much of that you can take before an internal chain reaction begins.
The walk downstairs, after all the make-up retouches and fixes to any rebellious stray hair that didn’t want to stay in place, feels like the first calm and slow moment of the day. As the steps get closer and closer to the bottom floor, the red carpet muffling the clicking of your shoes, your insides feel fire-like when you see Mingyu waiting for you by the final step, an unknowing smile on his face. His eyes drill holes on your figure, scanning you up and down shamelessly.
“You chose this one, I like it.” He whispers by your ear as you walk to the door, where every pair is already waiting. A little smile shows on your face, but it fades when your eyes encounter Cassie’s, watching the two of you with a frown so little you only notice because she immediately relaxes her face.
The music starts before you can say anything to Mingyu, and one by one, each of the bridesmaids start walking down the aisle, arms linked with the groomsmen, gracefully walking forward as the eyes of every guest fall on them. Your arm tangled with his is the first touch you share since many days ago, and even with all the conflict making your mind a blur, your heart speeds up at the feeling of his muscles.
Nothing seems slow anymore, and the ceremony almost goes by without noticing. There isn’t one second where you don’t feel Mingyu’s eyes on you, making it impossible to focus – or pretend to focus – on what the priest is saying.
The moment your brain reconnects with your ears, Thomas delivers the most beautiful vows you’ve ever heard. You met the guy only once, never even spoken to him, but the way he speaks so fondly about Olivia makes your heart clutch in your chest, and your throat tries to fight it, but you end up bursting with tears. But you’re not the only one with a cascade of dramatic tears falling with seemingly no end. As the room fills with applause and even some whistles at the first kiss between the officially married couple, you see some people with tissues, quietly blowing their nose.
But the never-ending rush in time continues, everyone sprinting to sit at their tables for the reception. The last retouches of make-up get done quickly. The girls gossip to kill the time before the dance, because for them it’s moving so slowly, but in the blink of an eye, you’re going out the door once again, just as Cassie taps on your shoulder. You turn to her, expecting her to be angry, or at least to start speaking, but it looks like she’s still figuring out what to say.
“Thank you, for taking care of me last night, I’m sure you would’ve preferred to enjoy the party.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you alone, it’s fine, you don’t have to thank me. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, I am! But actually, I wanted to apologize.” Your head spins, dizzy from the world suddenly stopping hearing her words. “I didn’t know there was something going on between you two.”
“There’s not- I mean, not much happened, I didn’t want to cause a fuzz over it.”
“But you should’ve told me you liked him, at least! If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have gone after him.” You see in her eyes nothing but honesty. “I know we’re not as close as before, but these are the things we need to tell each other. It’s the girl code.”
“I don’t really know why I didn’t, I know I should’ve, I didn’t know how.” You’ve now started to go downstairs to the reception, already the time to dance in pairs.
“Look, it’s okay if you’re not comfortable telling me this, but did something happen? Was he talking about you last night?”
You’ve reached where everyone is waiting, and you’re too embarrassed to look up and possibly find Mingyu standing there, leg-melting and breathtaking.
“I thought about it but I don’t know, maybe?”
Back at the reception, the music starts, signaling the newlyweds are about to begin their first dance, meaning in no time you’ll have to step in and dance around them.
“I’m going to ask you three questions and you just have to answer yes or no. There's no need for explanation, okay?”
“O…Kay?”
“So, you two knew each other in school, did you like him?” You nod shyly, not looking in her eyes, embarrassed to be talking about this so openly, “Did he like you?” You nod again, “And did something happen recently that would indicate that he would like to date you in the near future?”
You give her a final nod and finally look up at her. She sighs, taking your hand and squeezing it to make you pay attention.
“Then he meant you dummy! Go, talk to him. He’s been staring at you all day like a lost puppy.”
When you dare to look his way, where you just knew he was standing, he’s looking at you, a little smirk on his lips and subtly motioning he's ready to take your hand. You didn’t notice it was already time, and everyone around you stands in their position.
The pairs start entering one by one, and your smile trembles, feeling the eyes of every guest on you. Your fingers barely graze his, but they feel raw, like you can feel every particle of his hand below yours. The electric fire emerging from where your skin connects with his runs through your veins in record time.
But as soon as the music starts and Mingyu turns you so you’re looking at him, everything is forgotten. The steps come easily, his eyes calm but observing, his hand on your waist guiding you as he did every time you practiced.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He whispers, not wanting to disrupt the moment, but knowing it’s the only time you’ll get alone.
“I swear I didn’t mean to.”
You panic. There was so much to do and so few words you could come up with to say to him that maybe you unconsciously avoided him by locking yourself up in the make-up room.
“Did I do something wrong?” He doesn’t sound hurt, but rather just plain curious, eager to work this out between you two.
“No! it was just a misunderstanding,” he waits for you to continue, but the part of your brain that makes sense starts crumbling, making it impossible to form a coherent argument, “I- can I ask you something? It might sound stupid, I’m warning you.”
“Go ahead.” He chuckles, his feet continuing to dance while you've already forgotten about it. One of your hands stays on his shoulder, while the other is being held by him, still in the air by your sides, reaching the height of your shoulders.
“You’re not dating anyone, are you?”
He doesn’t let the silence even come close to the two of you, chuckling quietly so you’re the only one who can hear it.
“I’m not, hard to believe I know, but I’m painfully single.”
“Great, I just wanted to make sure.”
“I remember telling you I want to take you on a date.”
“Y-yeah, of course I remember that too."
The pit of your stomach lights up at the remainder of that afternoon in his home, your bodies as close as they are at this moment.
“Then what made you think that?”
“You just, you said to Cassie last night that you started seeing someone recently and, I don’t know, we didn’t technically start dating, so I panicked.” Saying it out loud to him, it sounds ridiculous, but if he thinks that, he doesn’t show it.
“Oh that, yeah, I might’ve gotten ahead of myself, but hey, think of it as manifesting.” He’s so charming that you don’t care that he’s making no sense.
“Next time, don’t tell a drunk girl who’s flirting with you the wrong information. She might spread it around.”
The synchronized chuckle you let out makes you pay attention to the forgotten situation. You’re dancing and haven’t tripped once, like your muscles got a life of their own and remembered every single step. And you suddenly realize how close your body is to Mingyu’s. One hand down the small of your back, pressing just enough to hold you in his personal space, his face close enough that you could concentrate on his breathing and feel the light exhales on your face.
When the music ends, the applause makes you look around, and your cheeks feel warm immediately, noticing all the eyes on every one of you. But the attention is short-lived, as you and Mingyu walk quickly to your table so the couple can do the welcome toasts. You don't miss how he slides your chair closer to his before you sit down.
Sitting by your side, Mingyu’s body and yours are connected by an electric current, drawing you closer. His knee stays glued to yours, and the cut on the side of your dress allows your bare skin to brush against the fabric of his pants. A conversation takes place between everyone at the table, one of the guys telling a story about something funny that happened with Tom back in high-school, but it’s hard to pay any real attention when Mingyu’s fingers start tracing circles on your knee. He’s not even doing to be a tease. It seems like it’s a habit of his, one that you’re just discovering. You don’t stop your fingers from playing with his, and a subtle smirk forms on his lips at your action.
It’s not like you’re doing anything too flashy or indecent, but you do your best to mask your reactions to his touches, to try and keep the people of the table unaware of the not so innocent things going on under the fancy tablecloth. He only notices your changes because he’s paying attention to you. The way your chest rises just a tad bit more when his hand goes a little over your knee, or how you drink from your cold glass of water when he presses on the skin of your inner thigh, but when he’s about to move his hand off of you, you put yours on his to keep it in place. You also notice things throughout the night, for example, that Mingyu isn’t drinking a lot, restricting to one glass of champagne per serving. You do the same, wanting to remember this night in the future.
Mingyu stands up when the dancefloor opens again, turning down an offer to go to the bar for something stronger than sparkling wine. Instead, he reaches for your hand, silently inviting you to dance with him, to which you agree, with a smile and avoiding his eyes. Following behind him, he doesn’t let go of your hand, even when you’ve reached the spot he wanted. People join you on the dancefloor, drunkenly vibing to the dj set, surrounding you, and blocking you from anyone you know. It’s feels almost private. Whatever song is playing on the speakers, it doesn’t prevent you from following your own rhythm in your own world. Your arms wrap around Mingyu’s neck, and both of his hands hold your waist, mirroring the evening at his place.
“So, tell me, what other embarrassing things did you do when you liked me?”
He throws his head back in embarrassment, sighing with a smile before daring to look at you again. His ears turn a light shade of pink, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat between your bodies.
“I really told you that, did I? I was hoping you wouldn't remember.”
“Nope, I remember it very vividly actually.”
“Let’s leave the embarrassing stories for the future, I wasn’t in my best condition last night.”
“You’re making me too curious now, but how drunk did you get last night?”
“Honestly, I was just nervous about seeing you and about tonight.” He might be confessing another embarrassing thing, but behind his truthful tone, there’s something you can’t quite decipher.
“What’s there to be nervous about tonight?”
Your heels allow you to be in his line of sight, and your chests are too close. If you inhaled deeply, you’d be able to feel him on you. He takes advantage of your new height and forces your attention to go to his lips, smirking shamelessly as he thinks his next words.
“Did I tell you how pretty you look today?"
One hand comes close to your face, removes a strand of hair from blocking your view, and tucks it behind your ear.
“Oh, shut up.”
You can’t even think of a snarky response, your brain melting and showing just how much he affects you. Goosebumps spread all across your arms and back at the feel of his hand caressing your skin.
“I can’t, it’s all I’ve thinking about all day, you, this dress, and you in this dress.”
You instinctively hide your face on the crook of his neck, his cologne invading your senses. It’s hard to think of words when he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you whole.
“I got it because of you. Do you really like it?”
Not that you need any confirmation, since he’s told you twice already, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it from him one more time. Your reveal makes his smirking lips graze your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and his voice drops an octave to answer.
“I love the dress, but I’ll love it more once I get it off you.”
“I hate you.”
You barely manage to say, your chest rising but breathless at the same time. Your body’s automatic reaction is to push him away, and your hands go straight to his chest to try, but of course it’s pointless. His hands catch yours, not letting you leave his personal space. He taunts you by spinning you around, and once you do a full twirl, he grabs you by the waist again and brings your body to his.
“You have no idea how hard it was for me that day when you stepped out, wearing this.” He gets closer to your ear with every word. You hate it and love it. For one, you can hide from his teasing eyes and blush in peace, but on the other hand, you are cheek to cheek with him, his breath fanning lightly on your side, and you can feel he’s still smirking. “You’re lucky there were other people in the room.”
A breath catches in your throat, and you swallow hard. You thank all the gods there are out there for being surrounded by drunk people. Because to anyone on their senses, your reaction to Mingyu's words would be too obvious.
“I really hate you right now.”
It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the heat growing at the pit of your stomach.
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“I think it’s quite the opposite actually.”
How are you supposed to play hard to get when his hands hold you like he wants to keep you forever?
“You think you know everything.”
You catch your voice about to tremble when his free hand starts going down the side of your arm, from your shoulder down until your hand, and interlocks his fingers with yours.
“If you hate me then, I can’t tell you the secret I’ve been keeping all night.”
“Have you been secretly writing an article about how to break someone’s heart in 10 days?”
“I love that movie, but it has been well over 10 days, I couldn’t make the deadline.”
“Rom-com connoisseur, noted.” You jokingly nod, but not forgetting what’s important. “Now tell me.”
“So, you know how they told us there were rooms available for anyone that couldn't drive home?” You nod, too enthusiastically. “I may or may not have booked one for tonight, and if you want to, there’s space for one more, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to…” He keeps talking, something about you watching him do something, but you get lost in the way his lips move as he talks, so pink and fast and hypnotizing.
“Isn’t it rude to just leave?”
The question leaves your mouth more to tease him than anything else. You want to be alone with him so badly, feel his body all over yours, his hands everywhere he can reach, ripping this godforsaken dress off you.
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Before the last food serving rolls out and everyone scatters to go back to their seat, you sneak out of the reception, but the drunk bodies are not making it easy. Mingyu leads the way with you grabbing his hand and walking behind him. You don’t know if you could’ve managed another teasing touching session under the table.
You take a left turn into the hallway just at the same time as one of Olivia's drunk uncles, a stranger to the both of you, who’s half asleep using the wall to steady himself as he walks. The music echoes through the walls, and you can only look at each other, half about to burst out laughing and half needing to take the others clothes off, as you walk as nonchalantly as possible past the man trying his best to open his door.
Giggling like teenagers, you finally reach your room at the end of the hallway, but the second you enter, the atmosphere changes. Standing by the closed door, shoes off, panting, and frozen in place, you only look at each other. Your breaths regulate, and your smiles slowly fade off your expressions as the realization hits. It’s real. He’s here, and you’re here, in a room just for the two of you. His eyes are bound to your parted lips, but you wouldn’t know, as yours are also unable to leave his.
Like magnets, brutally drawn to each other, your lips finally reconnect in a hungry, desperate kiss. After learning how sweet he tastes, how his lips glide over yours so easily, how he wraps his arms around you to keep you close to him, there was only so much time you could spend in abstinence.
No words needed, the want translating in the way your hands push him against you, his hands traveling across your back, touching and groping everywhere he can reach. After the long day testing your patience, neither of you can slow down.
His fang claws at your bottom lip, making you whimper against him. He drinks in any sound you make, his arms bringing your body impossibly closer to his, almost making you one. No one is in control, both of you just touching and grabbing anywhere you can, desperate for more.
Your mouths reluctantly separate as Mingyu starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and biting lightly on your sensitive skin, making you gasp. You can only thread your fingers on his hair, encouraging him to leave any marks he wishes to.
“Is this okay?”
His raspy voice travels to your ears, and you don’t trust yourself to not make unholy noises if you open your mouth to answer. But just as you’re humming, he digs his teeth just above your clavicle, turning your hum into a moan.
He slowly slides the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his fingers teasing your skin on the way down. His hand travels across your chest, only the silky green fabric in between your fiery skin and his teasing fingers. They go over your pointy hard nipples, feeling everything on its way, but not letting it stay anywhere for more than a second.
“Are you going to take it off?”
Your breathlessness makes him chuckle, smug and cocky as ever.
“Rushed?”
“Very. You’re the one that put the thought in my head, now take care of it!” His hands sneak up your back, playing with the zipper of your dress.
“Don’t act so innocent.” His tone goes straight to your core. The fabric around you loosens up as his hand runs down your spine, but he stops before it gets too loose to slip down. “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me all day? You’re not slick.”
He takes a step back to take off his suit jacket, absentmindedly throwing it to the side without breaking eye contact. But you don't let yourself get shy.
“Who said I was trying to hide it?”
Your hands run from his shoulders to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt one by one as his breathing speeds up. The warmth of his body envelops your hands, your fingers barely grazing the skin above his pants, and his muscles tense at your touch before you slip his shirt off.
“Now who’s the one teasing?”
Pulling on the red tie around his neck, he swallows hard as you bring his head closer to yours, so close you unconsciously flutter your eyes closed. His bare chest rises against yours as you undo his tie slowly. You could tilt your chin up and break the tension once more, but something in you wants to keep teasing him.
A step back is all you need to have his lips chase you, and he opens his eyes, droopy and confused, to find you slipping your dress off. His stare turns surprised and hungry as you reveal yourself for him, but his body stays frozen in place.
“I’m supposed to do that.”
It’s your time to chuckle now, taking a step forward again. His hands slot on your waist instinctively, traveling to your stomach, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin against his hands.
“You’ll get to do it next time.” The sentence is almost left unfinished, a breath getting caught in your throat when his hands dare go up your chest. But they’re gone in a heartbeat, as they reach your face and tilt it so you can properly look at him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” No teasing tone on his voice.
“I’m literally naked in front of you.” Your hands go back up to his neck, pushing his head slightly down, reaching a hypnotic closeness. “I want this, I want you Mingyu.”
Confirmation is all he needed to let loose, to let the want take over his body and soul. He connects your lips with force, and wastes no time. With his hands on your ass and his tongue working its way inside your mouth, he stumbles backwards until you both fall on the bed.
With you on top of Mingyu, your hands make their way across his chest, his golden skin glistening due to the sweat. You can feel his hard muscles tense under your touch, making him sigh on your mouth when you find his sensitive spots. His hands move to your hips and push you down on him, making you both moan un unison because of the first friction between your cores.
His growing hard grinds deliciously against you. Even with his pants still between you, you can feel how big he is, and the wet patch on your panties grows by the second. Your lips are still smashed together, a mess of saliva allowing your lips you glide faster and hungrier on his, your tongues becoming one, not wanting to separate ever again.
Your hands find their way down his abdomen, reaching where his pants hang on his hips. The absence of a belt makes it easier for you to unbutton them, and he takes the off expertly, all without ever taking his hands off you.
The second your hand sneaks under his underwear, he groans under you, disconnecting your mouths to take a look at you.
“Is it embarrassing to be already close?” His blood red lips are parted, breathing out his confession, and you almost moan, clenching around nothing because of the sight, or his confession, or maybe the whimper he fights when you wrap your hand around him.
“You’re so big, fuck.” You sigh, and the side of his mouth quirks up, but slowly disappears as you start sliding your hand down, smearing the precum on his length.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.”
His eyes have a mix of concern and lust on them, and your body doesn’t know how to react, your stomach flips, your hands tremble, and your underwear grows wetter.
“I know you won’t.”
You climb down on him, your eyesight reaching where his boxers begin to tent. His gaze follows you, like he can’t believe the reality of what’s happening. You take off the last piece of clothing left on his body, and his dick springs free, standing proud and angry red in front of your eyes. The throb on your throat makes you move forward, wrapping your lips around his leaking tip.
“Wait. Don’t.” You look up at him but he’s facing the ceiling, ears red and eyes closed. “I can’t.”
“I haven’t done anything.” You play innocent, and a smirk appears on your face when he finally looks at you, resting on his elbows.
“Exactly, that’s why I can’t, I need to have a little bit of pride left.”
“What do you suggest we do?” You slowly climb up on him again, his hands moving to your hips like they got a life of their own. One hand on his chest and one hand on his jaw, you kiss him softly, and he melts at your touch.
A soft moan is heard, could be from him, could be from you, but your mind is too clouded to care when he rolls his hips against yours, following the pace of your lazy kiss. A rush of arousal takes over your body when he presses you harder against him, his length sliding perfectly with your core, your wetness making it easier to reach every point that makes you gasp.
“I want,” his lips stop working on yours, but his arms keep you from separating. You feel his every breath, every gasp at the friction, and his lips graze yours when he speaks, “I want to taste you.”
“Fuck.” He might just be able to feel the new rush of wetness dampening your panties further and smearing around his hard below you. His hands push your hips up his body. He told you what he wants, and he’s showing you exactly how he wants it. “Are you sure? I don’t want to crush your skull.”
“I wouldn’t mind that, at least I’d die happy.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that if you want it.”
The chuckle he lets out reverberates from his chest up through your whole body. There’s not much you can do besides complying with his wants, especially with the way your body’s reacting to the sole idea of it and the way he’s moving you to where he wants.
His hands sneak under the strings of your underwear, and as you climb higher and higher, he removes them easily, leaving you bare on top of him.
“You’re so wet, shit.” Your pussy pulsates just above his face. You can’t see his reaction, but you for sure can hear it, “I would’ve done this sooner if I knew this was waiting for me.”
From your point of view, his whole face is covered, by you, on top of him, only his messy hair laying on the mattress can be seen. A view that’s dizzying and hypnotic at the same time, and you can’t think of any answer to give him. His breath on your wet core makes you shiver, but you’re afraid to sit down, afraid you’ll hurt him.
Mingyu senses your hesitation and gives you no more time to doubt. His head rises until his tongue meets your folds, flattening on you, desperate to make you feel good. The sudden stimulation makes your legs tremble, and you would've fell on his face if it wasn’t from his hands still holding your hips.
He starts making out with your cunt, moaning and groaning against it like this is also pleasurable for him. His tongue finds every place that makes you gasp, moan and whimper, and with every lap at your folds, a nasty wet sound accompanies it.
A shaky moan escapes out of you when he envelops your clit with his lips and sucks lightly, making you grab the headboard so you don’t fall on him.
You must’ve fully sit on his mouth in your search for support, because he moans louder against your pussy, and you can feel everything. His lips and tongue working to drink every drop of arousal that leaves you, discovering every sensitive spot you didn’t know about.
The tip of his nose bumps your clit just as his tongue finds its way inside your pulsing hole, and you instinctively move your hand down to pull at his hair. The action encourages him to go faster, harder, and when you grind on his face and he groans like he’s enjoying it, you let go.
Riding him, chasing your high, you’re using his tongue for your own pleasure. Your hand on his hair tightens, and you lose the little control you had of your throat. But the unfiltered sounds you make just push him harder. Every one of your senses is clouded. The wet sounds, the way he moans against you, his tongue already knowing where to go to make you squirm, everything culminates without warning.
You cum on his tongue faster than you have ever before. Your thighs tremble at either side of his head, and you realize you’re crushing him between them. But he doesn't let you get up. His tongue continues to work on you,
He cleans you up, drinking every last drop of arousal smeared on your skin. You spasm over him every time he –not so accidentally– flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, starting to get you overstimulated.
You use the strength you have left to push his head back, and take advantage of his surprise to plop down on his side, your back on the mattress and your pussy finally away of his eager mouth.
“Are you okay?”
From the corner of your eye, while you try to recover, you see Mingyu doing his best to clean the lower side of his face.
“Yeah, fuck, that was a lot.” You manage to say in between breaths. “I need a second.”
“If you’re too tired, we can st- fuck.”
You don’t give time to overthink, quickly getting on top of him again, your swollen dripping cunt right on top of his still hard cock.
“Second's over.” Only a little smirk is the warning he gets before you’re grinding on top of him again. All of your juices mix as you slowly ride back and forth, his length sliding between your wet folds deliciously. “I’m clean, and on the pill, are you?”
“On the pill? Unfortunately not.” How he manages to make you laugh even on your horniest moments will forever remain a mystery. “But I’m clean, I’ve never had sex without a condom before.”
“Me neither. I guess this will be a new experience for the both of us.” The sole thought of it makes his dick twitch under you.
“Are you sure?” His hand cups the side of your face, and his eyes look at you with such care that you could melt in an instant.
“Yes, I don’t want to wait anymore. We’ve waited long enough.” That seems to relax him, his hands beginning to roam freely across your torso.
Sliding forward makes the veins of his cock drag along every sensitive spot and you both moan before his tip finally prods at your entrance. A loud hiss comes out of him as you align yourself with his length and push his tip in.
But before you can go any further, he wraps his arms around your waist and turns you around so your back is against the mattress. You gasp at the sudden change, and when he starts slowly sinking into you, filling every possible space inside you, you lose your breath.
His cock being covered by your fluids makes it easier, and when he finally bottoms out, so deep you feel him everywhere, you hear him trying to muffle a moan. Your gummy walls clamp around him, trying to get used to his size. The twitch of his length feels stronger while inside you, and you know he’s trying to resist the urge to pound into you.
“Move, please, I need you.” Your pathetic whimper triggers another smirk out of him, and as he moves down to give you a soft kiss, his eyes darken.
“Whatever my girl wants.”
The slow drag of his cock as he starts sliding it out almost make you delirious, but before his tip slips out, he snaps his full length right back in, making your body jolt upwards. You can't speak properly, a curse you can’t even hear leaves your mouth before he repeats the action, again and again.
“So deep, Mingyu, fuck.” The brutal pace he sets has him abusing every single sensitive spot inside you, even the ones you didn’t know about, hitting relentlessly where it makes you scream, and you’re seeing stars.
“You don’t say my name often,” his voice is raspy and deep, almost mirroring the way his cock pistons inside of you, “I like how it sounds coming out of you."
Your palms are against the headboard and you’re sure the bed hitting against the wall can be heard from other rooms, but when one of his hands sneak between your bodies and starts circling your clit, you stop caring all along.
The grinding of your hips matches his rhythm, accentuating everything as he drives you closer and closer. With his face just above yours, you can only look him in the eyes and let him watch your face contort in pleasure feeling every vein of his cock dragging inside of you. With any other person, you would be self-conscious, but as he finds that spot inside you that makes you squirm, you forget the world around you and focus on grabbing his strong arms for support.
His teeth find your neck again, biting and kissing on your soft skin, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and he doesn’t stop drilling his hips into you. Somehow, you feel him deeper with every thrust, and the only thing you can do is claw your nails on his arms and back, encouraging him more and more.
“You’re so tight, shit.” His hips stutter when you clench hearing his voice. “Tell me you’re close, please, fuck, I don’t now how long I got."
“Yes! Yes, don’t stop.” You tighten impossibly harder around him when you feel him pinch one of your nipples. He’s literally everywhere, stimulating every spot to tip you over the edge.
Your arms and legs cage his body so close to yours that he has trouble keeping up with his pace, but that doesn't stop him from pounding hard. The sound of skin your skin hitting against his and his groans are like music to your ears.
It's when his thumb teases your clit again that you finally snap.
You tremble around him, moaning uncontrollably as he keeps pounding into you, prolonging your orgasm as he pleases and chasing his own. But he’s far gone too. Your sweet moans in his ear and your walls clenching around him so perfectly are enough to have him spilling inside you.
Sleepiness is about to get you when you feel him sliding out you and plopping by your side. Naturally, one of his arms slots under you as your head rests on the crook of his neck.
There’s silence while you both catch your breaths, his hand softly drawing circles on your back and yours on his chest. As reality sinks in, giddiness fills your entire body, and you can’t contain the smile growing against his golden skin.
“Did you do any embarrassing things back then?” The sudden interrogation makes your cheeks turn red.
“I’m guessing there’s no way out of this, right?” You avoid looking up at him to not make your shyness obvious, and you feel him shake his head as an answer. “Fine… you know… your fangs?”
“My fangs?!” Amusement and surprise mix on his voice.
“Fuck this is so embarrassing.” You’re caged between his arms but you manage to cover your face with your hands.
“You liked my fangs?”
“I still do, but yeah, I would just draw little fangs everywhere, I guess no one ever noticed because they looked more like vamp–"
“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” He luckily interrupts your embarrassing rant with his pending question.
“Already? You want to see me again that badly?” You feel the chuckle on his chest before you hear it, and at that moment, it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard.
“I plan on taking you on dates at least three times a week. You’re never getting rid of me now.” He embraces you in his arms, chests flushed together, and when you tilt your head up, he’s already looking at you, expectant for your answer. “So, what do you say?”
“Yes, I would love to have dinner with you tomorrow.” The smile he gives you might be the most blinding smile you’ve ever seen. “But just so you know, I do not have sex on first dates.”
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thank you so much for reading♥♥ sorry this took so long to finish
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lizard-ratt · 2 months ago
Text
This idea got stuck in my head, not to be taken too seriously. If you find any typos, no you didn't <3
Other than that, I hope you enjoy!
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Steve Harrington knew how to haggle. Raised by the most cutthroat business man in all of the state of Indiana, if not the United States as a whole, he knew the ins and outs of getting the best deal possible. He used this to his advantage a lot more than anyone knew.
The first time he brought out Steven Elias Harrington, son of Richard Jay Harrington was when he first got forced to sign NDAs to keep quiet about everything going on in Hawkins, Indiana. Despite only having shown up at the end, he still had a fat stack of papers to work through.
And he worked through the entire thing, taking his sweet precious time to read the entire thing, word for word. He signed nothing that day, letting the government employees watch as he took notes on every little detail, humming to himself, scoffing, and overall being as annoying about it as possible.
"These are terrible. Do better." He didn't say that exactly, but it was the general consensus as he gave them a verbal dressing down that would make his father proud (and his father was never proud). He made demands for money, for protections, for anything that he could think of. By the end, the government had agreed to provide him with a heaping helping of cash (enough to buy a house and help him live a comfortable life for the next twenty-or-so odd years), government provided medical insurance (complete coverage for the rest of his life), and a full ride scholarship for any college he wanted to go to.
Suffice to say he had rung that towel dry of anything he could ask of it. He knew that those government employees wished nothing but the worst for him, but he was satisfied with what he got, and he happily signed the fifth NDA they provided him with, flourishing his signature with relish.
Then, he became even more wrapped up in the whole thing when Dustin Henderson decided to raise a baby Demogorgon in his basement. A lot happened in those forty-eight hours, but the main one was that he got attached to the little shits, so he told them in no uncertain terms that they were not to sign anything before he looked the paperwork over.
They scoffed, rolled their eyes, but ultimately agreed. It was a very amusing few days, to say the least. The government agents (the same ones as last time) showed up with their giant stacks of paper, and came face to face with Steven Elias Harrington, and he could just see them die a little bit inside. He could practically hear what remained of their souls wither to dust.
And again, he forced them to sit as he read through every NDA, taking notes, scoffing, humming, and overall being a nuisance to them and their time. Then, he got the kids' attentions (as their eyes started to glaze over after minute thirty) and began his process.
The looks of pure awe, too, would be treasured for a very long time as he got their college tuitions paid for, government-provided medical insurance for the rest of their lives, and of course a big fat pile of cash ready for when they would turn seventeen years old. Each of them had enough money lined up for them that they wouldn't have to worry about anything until maybe their late fifties to early sixties if they were bad with their money.
And of course, he got himself another big pile of cash and access to the best lawyers in the United States if he would ever have need of it.
After that, he shouldn't have been surprised when everyone came to him for help post-Battle of Starcourt (dubbed by Dustin, of course). This time, he took two solid weeks pushing and pulling Uncle Sam in this direction and that to make sure everyone got what they needed. (Another fat stack of cash for everyone, legal protection for whatever they'd need it for, and a cover story that made everyone look the best that they possibly could. He also got college payment for Robin, since she wasn't there the first time, as well as the same medical insurance he got everyone else). Those government employees looked at Steve like he was the devil himself.
"You kinda are," Robin told him one day, after Steve recounted the specifics. "I mean, you are bleeding the government dry."
He gave her a grin. "Absolutely, I am."
Then, he and his merry band of misfits saved the world, stopping the Upside Down for good. The same government goons showed up, and instead of doing what they tried to do the previous time, they just came to Steve with all of the NDAs, and asked in the most sarcastically professional voice imaginable, "Are these up to your standers, Mr. Harrington?"
He gave his charming, King Steve smile and told them that he'd read it over. In the hospital room that held Max and Eddie, Steve pulled up a table and allowed everyone to watch as he flipped page after page, noting down the loophole phrases and weak protections, and every single trap meant to put them into a worse-off position and he threw it in the government's faces.
In return, he forced everything his heart could imagine out of them.
Another giant hunk of change for each of them.
Eddie Munson free of all charges, effective immediately
Government-provided medical insurance for Eddie Munson for the rest of his long, long life
A cover story so beautiful, so concrete that it got even the most closed minded to look at Steve's People and call them heroes.
A house for Eddie and his Uncle Wayne
"I hope I never see your face ever again," the man told Steve, forgoing all niceties at that point. "You're going to burn in hell."
"I'll save you both a seat," he told him with his sweetest, most charming smile.
The government agents left, and in their wake, Eddie Munson looked at him like he hung the sun, moon, and stars in the sky.
"Wow," was all the metalhead was able to get out for a while. "Just wow."
Robin glanced between Steve and Eddie, leaned into his side and quietly sang, "The lovers, the dreamers, and me."
Now on AO3
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celestiamour · 3 months ago
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ the "dying" wolverine ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x gn! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ taking care of logan when he’s sick┊0.8k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, established relationship
➤ author's note: i’m feeling like shit so i’m making him suffer with me
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what part of regenerative healing don’t you understand? it’s impossible for him to get sick in any capacity as his immune system is stronger than the adamantium in his body, so feel free to read any of the other logan fics written by all the amazing writers on this platform!!
but let’s say that he somehow contracted a special bug that managed to get past all that and managed to make him fall ill, requiring you to take care of him while wade goes on a mission to figure out what’s wrong with him…
this headstrong two-hundred-year mutant who can take stab wounds without flinching and is an invincible tank in battles will be the whinest son of the bitch. he always lets his guard down around you, but he’s the most vulnerable and immature that he’ll ever allow himself to be around anyone since he can’t remember the last time (or if he has ever in his life) felt so shitty. shivering despite being feverish and covered up in blankets which just made him sweaty and uncomfortable, an itchy nose that wouldn’t sneeze when he needed it to, coughing his lungs out every two minutes— it’s so alien to him.
when you finally show up to look after him, he’ll have uncharacteristically big puppy eyes as you gently place your hand on his forehead to gauge how bad it is. “how are you feeling, lo?”
“i feel like i’m going to fucking die.” there are several discarded tissues and water bottles overfilling the nearby trashcan, but it was clear that he had no idea how he was supposed to make himself feel better and suffering.
“i can tell,” you chuckle at how dramatic he sounds and it makes him frown, but he’s just so thankful that you’re here to take care of him (he doesn’t exactly trust al to do it, that woman is a bit too mysterious and cryptic for him, and the medicine she offered smelled funny even to his dulled senses). “let me go make you some soup.”
he doesn’t want you to leave at first because your cold skin feels so good against him, but he’ll lightly doze off for a bit now that he’s more comfortable and feels safer. don’t expect him to stay asleep for long though, he’ll get up from his little while you’re in the middle of cooking chicken vegetable soup to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on top of yours until you finish.
“why are there barely any vegetables in the fridge? i could only find half a carrot and wilted celery.”
“i don’t think anyone here eats that stuff.”
“logan, you need to eat your greens— all you guys do, how are all three of you in such good shape then?!”
“eh.”
he can’t make anything more complicated than butter noodles, wade sets nearly everything on fire, he feels slightly guilty eating the food made by an elderly blind lady when he’s already freeloading at the moment, and constantly ordering take-out becomes expensive. you’ve given some food in tupperware for him to eat up, but it isn’t quite the same. as if being sick didn’t make him miserable enough, he’s so fucking pissed that he couldn’t properly taste your freshly-cooked food and will make it known.
you scoff that it’s just soup and pour it out in a bowl for him to eat, but you’ll quickly find yourself spoon-feeding him. yes, his hands still work with perfectly fine motor functions. no, you’re not passing up the opportunity to baby him while he rolls his eyes (he’ll grunt at most and doesn’t say a word of protest, claiming that he’s merely allowing it since he’s too tired to fight with you over it and very glad no one could see it happening).
“here comes the airplane~”
“i’m a grown-ass man, don’t be ridiculous.”
“a grown-ass man without an ounce of whimsy in his life, open your fucking mouth and eat.”
this is one of the lower points in his life where he doesn’t quite understand why this is happening to him yet, so you obviously have give him as much affection as possible! keeping a cold glass of water nearby and a wet rag to dab on his face, he rests his head upon your thighs and you swear that you can hear him purring like a kitten. there’s not better pillow than his lover, soft, warm, and full of love as you hum a song to lull him to sleep.
“let’s get married one day…” he not sure how that slipped past his lips, it might be the fever talking for him, or the fact that he’s completely relaxed without any tension in his muscles and feeling himself falling in love all over again when you smile so sweetly at him
“okay, but you need to sleep and get better first.” you place a gentle kiss on his forehead until his eyes slowly drift shut, “i love you, logan.”
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mermaidgirl30 · 4 months ago
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✨Guiding Light✨
Marcus Acacius x fem! reader
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A/N: I was immediately inspired to write this after I saw the pictures drop Monday, and I conjured this up in one night. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem and @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading 🩷
Summary: You watch Marcus avenge himself week after week in the pit of the arena, but how much longer will it take to make you snap? How much longer can you go on watching when he’s the only man you want?
Word Count: 6.2k
Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI
Tags: Yearning, a little angst, soft dom! Marcus, feelings, confessions, jealousy, unprotected piv, oral (male/female receiving), fluff, reader’s nickname is Starlight
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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  The arena is drenched in dark crimson colors as the clash of silver armor and jagged swords collide in unison. The audience is obnoxiously loud as their rowdy shouts and chants fill your ringing ears.  
   Thump. Thump. Thump. 
   You can basically feel your heart trying to break free of your insides that pound uncontrollably as you watch Marcus take out another large fighter from his right with only one jab of his shiny sword that catches sunlight and reflects in your wide eyes.
   Come on, Marcus. Win, stay alive!
   You swallow back a trembling whine as you sit on the edge of your seat, fingernails digging into the tough stone as you watch the man you yearn for take another blow to the back. You gasp as you watch Marcus flip the fighter over and finish him off with one slice of his silver sword, barely any sign of pain or fear in his vision that’s focused on taking out every single enemy that stands in his way of freedom.
   You sigh out in relief, fear flooding your veins as your eyes stay glued to every careful move he makes in the arena of death. 
   He stands in the middle of the expansive, gruesome arena, dodging left and right, taking out man after man, completely pulverizing anything and anyone that gets in his way. He’s the best in the game, the most experienced fighter, the champion that never falters, never loses. So why are you a complete mess when he’s in that pit of death?
   You’re not lovers, not exactly. You’re his plaything, the woman he calls to his bedchamber after every battle, every night that suits his needs. He doesn’t care if you’re asleep, doesn’t care if you’re in the middle of other pressing matters, doesn’t give a fuck because you’re his property that he can do whatever he wants with. And you have to admit you find that sort of… hot. You’ll do anything for that man. He can use you all he wants, as long as that means you have him.
   Your pulse thrums in your neck as you watch him completely dominate the arena. The blazing sun rains down on his broad body, leaving him in damp, silver armor, sweat glistening down his tanned skin, greying curls sticking to his forehead, dirt covering every inch of his muscular arms, his sculpted legs, his large hands. 
   You so badly wish you could be every speck of that dirt right now so you could lick up and down every inch of him until you were completely consumed in him, until you could see nothing but him for all eternity, until he melded his own skin with yours as you fused into one. 
   When the crowd chants and the last man falls to his death, the only man left standing is him, General Acacius, the man you’re completely wrapped up in. You have to pull yourself back together as your core burns hot, slick collecting just thinking of what he’ll do to you later tonight. You know he’ll take you, hard. 
   His golden flecked chocolate eyes find yours in the crowd in a heartbeat, a celebratory smirk curling against his plush mouth as darkness and trouble swirl through those beautiful eyes. You know what that means. He’s won you, and he wants you, now.
   When your eyes leave his, you see the emperor’s daughter, Mina, looking over his broad body with those bright blue eyes, her ashy blonde hair flowing down her back, and she’s nearly drooling over his victory, thinking that she can get him with her daddy’s command.
   You flare hot with jealousy at the thought of Marcus and Mina tangling together, their skin caressing over each other’s in his large bed draped with gold sheets that swallow their bodies whole till they’re nothing but shadows dancing in the midst of the night.  
   You see it now. The long walks they take in the gardens, the secret slurs in each other’s ears over dinners with the entire court, an arranged marriage as he fights for her love each time he’s in the arena. 
   It’s only in your head, only a sick mirage your jealous mind has conjured up. He barely glances her way half the time, his heated gaze only locked on you each time you’re in the same vicinity. It’s stupid really, the hate you feel for her because you could never measure up to a rich, beautiful goddess like herself. You don’t come from royalty, barely have a cent to your name, and that is why he could never love you, you think. 
   Mina has it all, and you’re just… you. 
   You swallow the lump in your throat as the audience still shouts and whistles from every direction as Marcus is called out and awarded as the winner of today’s events. You want to stay, but you get up quietly and leave, knowing he’ll want you waiting in his chambers when he’s finished. 
   He’s safe. That’s all that matters. 
   You quickly leave behind the bellowing noise of the arena, trading it for a quiet walk through the rose garden, past the trickles of clear blue fountains, entering into a quiet overlay of towering architecture that’s trimmed in carved stone and marble pathways. A place you could never even dream of setting foot in on a regular basis. You’re just a commoner, not royalty, not wealthy, not anything but his to take. And that will have to be enough. For now. 
   You slip past some guards, heading straight for his bedroom, his sanctuary so to speak. He calls it that because you are what he worships night after night in those sheets, inside those marble walls, against his broad body that makes every vibration buzz through your nerve endings. He is what makes this city even tolerable. 
   You throw the double doors open wide and slam them shut, letting the glow of the sunlight fade through the cascading window overlooking the city. The room smells of spice and aroma, the golden curtains sparkle as the sun kisses the see-through fabric and dips against the silky sheets that are bathed in a majestic golden hue. The king sized bed sits front and center as his grand bathing chambers lay to the right, just inside the hand crafted door that’s threaded with gold.
   This room, this place is exquisite, and you can’t believe the emperor is letting Marcus stay here after their falling out that happened just weeks ago. But the best fighter gets to stay in these living quarters. They get money, a title, a chance at freedom from the arena if they’re lucky. That’s what Marcus is fighting for. To be free from this hellish prison, and you just pray to the gods that no one will take him from you. You’ll surely wither and fade away the moment something goes wrong in those walls of torture and murder because he’s all you know anymore here in Ancient Rome. 
   Before you can delve into anymore feelings, you hear the crash of doors being opened behind you, and then you hear the disposal of swords and shields being tossed in a heap on the floor, then you hear the deep, ragged breaths of the one you’ve been waiting for. Marcus.
   You try to twist around, but strong arms envelop you from behind, and a warm breath blows huskily down the shell of your ear. “Enjoy the show?” he smirks as his meaty hands find the back of your long gown and rip, tugging it free as it falls to the floor around your ankles. 
   Your mouth drops open as warmth blooms in your core, hot and heavy like the room begins to feel. “Marcus! I liked that dress,” you pout.
   He grabs the back of your hair and tugs playfully while one hand snakes around your waist and pulls you flush to his silver armor, making you gasp as he cups your bare breasts and starts kneading them together, like he needs you right this very second and can’t wait any longer to get his experienced fingers on your burning skin. 
   “I’ll buy you another one. Not like I don’t already have one hanging in my closet,” he teases, pinching your pebbling nipples together as a slight moan leaves your lips. 
   “Needy thing, aren’t you?” he chuckles, pulling you closer as one hand slips down and ghosts over the sheer panties, the only thing left on your bare body. 
   “For you, yes,” you whine, stifling a moan as his calloused thumb glides over your clit, sending a shiver down your spine as you fight to keep standing upright. 
   “Greedy thing I see, wanting to come already?” he teases as he tugs his hand away from your slick center and rips your ruined panties in half, leaving you completely bare and absolutely wet with desire and famished for his touch. 
   “Turn around,” he instructs with a bite as he assesses you from head to toe, licking his bottom lip in anticipation the moment he sees how drenched you are for him.
   Your gaze drops over him, still clad in silver armor, his leather wristbands splattered in dried blood, his Caliga boots biting into his toned shins, the leather kissing his muscular thighs. He quickly loses the wristbands and stalks toward you, backing you up till your back is pressed into the corner of the bed, chest heaving as the possibilities swarm your hazy mind.
   “My armor, unthread it,” he demands as his dark brown eyes pierce into yours as sweat glistens across his tanned forehead, dirt still caking his dark skin as he stands fresh from a win of a long day in the arena. “Now,” he growls as he loses his patience while you stand there staring like a lovesick puppy.
   “Yes, sir,” you nod as your fingers get to work unlacing the gold threads of his armor, making sure your movements are swift and cordial, knowing he doesn't like waiting too long to have you. 
   His eyes follow you with every turn, every move, like he’s some kind of wild animal that’s stalking his prey, ready to pounce and devour at any minute. You have to keep your eyes off his as you unfasten his belt, the silver armor falling to the floor as you tug it off his broad body until he’s standing only in the leather material that covers his upper thighs and the boots that shine against his banged up ankles. 
   You stand there a minute and admire the gorgeous fighter that stands in front of you. Tall, extremely handsome, greying curls slicked back with the sweat from the sweltering sun in the arena, dirt etched across sculpted, tanned skin, eyes the color of bright sunlight and charcoal mixed together to make the prettiest honey-glazed eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. This man is like a god, and you’d happily get down on your knees and worship him at his beck and call. 
   His blazing eyes slide down your bare body and end at what’s left on his, nodding for you to finish the job. “Well, don’t just stand there. Finish undressing me,” he bites out with scalding irritation, clearly ready to forget his long day in an arena where hyenas bark at him day after day. He wants a release, and that release is you.
   You quickly tug the leather material down his legs, taking his underwear to the floor as his hard cock stands at attention against his sculpted abs, his coarse, wiry, dark hair trailing down the base of him as you gulp with wide-eyes.
   He’s so big, so thick, so very… god-like. 
   He sits down on the wooden chest that’s sprawled at the end of his bed, spreading his muscular legs wide as he points to his dusty battle boots. “Knees on the ground, Starlight,” he instructs firmly with a gravelly tone that makes you clench your thighs together.
   “Yes. Of course, Marcus.”
   “Sir,” he corrects as you bend down and start to unlatch the straps of his fighting boots, slowly stripping them off as you toss them to the side. 
   You idly sit there on your knees, one arm twisting around the back of his thigh as you spread him wider, almost drooling at the sight of his thick cock dripping precum around the angry red tip. Your mouth parts open, and you lose all train of thought. The only thing you want is to choke on that beautiful cock till he tells you to stop.
   He strips you from your fantasies as he grabs a fistful of your hair, leaning down as he bites out slow, deliberate words. “Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to be a good girl and wrap that pretty little mouth around my cock?” His eyes twinkle with a seductive glare, and his dirty words melt all the way down to your heated core until you can actually feel them around your aching clit.
   “Yes, sir. Wanna be your good girl,” you pant as you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.
   He smirks and sits back as his rough hand guides you forward. “Then get to work,” he growls, tugging you forward with his hand wrapped around your hair until your lips meet his dripping tip.
   You take your tongue and run it flat up the base of him, following along the bulging vein as you lick up the salty precum that gushes around his swollen tip. 
   Gods, he tastes so good, even after a long day in battle without a bath. You actually prefer to go down on him like this when his musk is drenched around the coarse hairs at his base, sweat pooling down his glorious body as you bathe in the aroma of him. Battle and all, this is when you like him most, when he completely takes charge and dominates you around his chambers, instructing you with filthy words and crude actions. This is how you like it. All hot and sweaty and desperate and messy.
   He groans as you take him deeper, hollowing out your cheeks as you fill your throat with his thick cock, gagging around his massive size as he starts to bob his hips, fucking your throat in steady strides as his large fingers wrap around your soft waves. 
   “That’s it, right there, atta fucking girl,” he moans, tipping his head down to yours as he watches you through the black pits that consume his wide eyes.
    “Look at me,” he demands as he pulls you back up to breathe, letting a bead of saliva connect to your plump lips from the tip of him as you suck in a deep breath, feeding your lungs as you look up into eyes that could eat you alive. 
   “There she is, my good little Starlight. Sucking my cock just the way I like it, yeah?” he coos, threading his fingers through your hair and stroking the back of your neck like you’re a well trained dog on a leash just waiting for their master to give you orders.
   “Mhm. You just taste so good, all hot and sweaty,” you purr as your hand slides down the base of his shaft, squeezing his balls as he grunts in pleasure, tightening his grip on your neck as he pushes you back down. 
   “Yeah? Put those pretty lips to action then, gorgeous,” he growls. 
   He takes you to your limits, cock throbbing as you choke and gag around his thick length, drool dousing him as he fucks you hard and deep, taking exactly what he needs after going through hell and back himself in one day.
   You groan, tears licking your eyes as you swallow the salty taste of him, letting him move you at his leisure, making your body do exactly as he pleases. Before you can get another good taste of his deliciousness, he pulls you off and throws you on your back in the silky sheets, watching him grab some of the gold cords from his armor. 
   Your breath escapes you as he crawls over your body, the dirt caking his broad arms as his hungry eyes nearly devour you whole as he carefully binds your wrists to the headboard, stilling your writhing legs as he starts to slowly spread them. 
   Your heart is beating wildly like ocean tides collide with your body, and your core is humming for Marcus to touch you in every single place he can get his filthy hands on you.
   He takes the tips of his fingers and melodically strokes them down your neckline, skating between your peaked breasts, teasing along your inner thighs until you’re a writhing mess beneath him. “Marcus, please,” you beg, nearly panting his name raggedly as you beg for his touch. 
   “Sir,” he corrects sternly as he stares at you with dark eyes in warning.
   “Sir,” you apologize with a meek voice.
   He chuckles and drags his finger higher, teasing around your drenched folds as he hikes one leg over his shoulder, your other folding around his back. 
   “Now, I want you to look up and watch, can you do that?” he asks as you tilt your head and swallow a gasp as you stare into the reflection of you and Marcus in between the sheets that will soon be soaked.
   “Want you to see what belongs to me, what I own,” he growls dominantly as he sinks down to his elbows and breathes in your musk deeply as your pussy shutters at just the feel of his hot breath.
   You groan in waiting, and then his mouth is on you in a flash. He licks a thick stripe up your center as your wrists tug at the golden clasps, your fingernails digging into your skin as you moan in pure ecstasy when his tongue circles meticulously around your puffy clit. 
   “Oh, yeah,” you whine as the feel of his thick fingers curl up inside you, reaching that sweet spongy spot that makes you dizzy every single time.
   He chuckles as he pulls you down further, your bound wrists biting into the cords as he swirls his tongue exceptionally fast, groaning at the taste of you as his messy curls fall against your thighs. You want to reach down and lace your fingers into those beautiful locks, want to hear him groan as your nails dig deep into his scalp as you moan his name around the spacious chambers of his living quarters, but you’ll work with this for now, until he says otherwise. 
   He pulls your bundle of nerves into his warm mouth, sucking and teasing as he looks up from under hooded eyes and stares at you playfully with his pupils expanding into dark pits the more he feasts on you. 
   You buck into his mouth as his fingers plunge in and out of you, creating the most obscene wet noises that reverberate off the marble walls. He releases your buzzing clit with a pop, licking the slick from his lips as he groans at the sweet taste of you.
   “This is exactly what I needed, Starlight. Needed to drink you down, taste the savory flavor of this sweet pussy, needed to drown in you,” he pants as he dives back in, licking and sucking and fucking two thick fingers inside your dripping hole until you start to see black dots flick across your vision.
   “Yes, come for me, Starlight,” he purrs, his gravelly voice melting your insides into warm lava as you snap and let the white hot heat take control.
   You throw your head back into the plush pillow and let your moans fill the room as you clench around his thick fingers and release everything you have to give him.
   “Just like that, Starlight. Fuck, yes,” he growls as he licks you clean, lapping up all the slick until you’re completely spent off the way he just demolished you.
   You feel his broad body climb over yours, carefully untying you from the headboard as your arms fall slack to your sides. You feel as if every wave of ecstasy just crashed into you, the high tides pulling you out to sea as you agreeably follow the darkness. Marcus pulls you out of the lapping waves and carries you back to shore where it’s safe and warm by his side.
   “Come here, Starlight. Just lay back and take the pleasure,” he purrs as he glides his massive cock into your slippery folds, spreading you wide as he starts to rock his hips back and forth, feeding himself inside you as your walls clench up around him. 
   You lay back into the dampening sheets as his body presses you deeper into the mattress, his hands tangled in your hair, your own legs wrapped tight around his broad back as you moan with every stroke of his cock. You feel the pressure inside you coiling tight, feeling as if you’ll come undone again at any second. This is what you love, what you revel in, what you need most in this world. It’s him. 
   You lay sprawled in the damp sheets, bodies tangled together like magnets colliding as you stare up into the wide mirror, the motions of his broad body reflecting in your wide eyes as you take the pleasure again and again.
   “Marcus,” you cry out, pleading for him, begging him not to stop as you watch him take you harder, your nails dragging down his back with every deep thrust he gives you as he kisses the back of your cervix repeatedly. 
   “Yeah, feels good, doesn’t it, Starlight?” he coos against the shell of your ear as he traces his lips up up up until he’s hovering straight over your lips, his mouth teasing as he nips at your bottom lip.
   “Marcus,” you repeat, your heart straining for him to kiss you.
   Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. It’s all you want, all you need. Like air to fill your lungs, he’s all it takes.
   It takes him less than two seconds to collapse his lips onto yours like he’s as desperate for air as you, like he might die if he doesn’t fill the space between the two of you. You moan into his mouth, tasting salt and sunlight crash against your taste buds as his tongue licks inside your panting mouth. He groans into the kiss, tangling his large tongue with yours as you chase him and let him swallow you down like it’s his last night to live.
    He deepens the kiss, pulling you flush to his chest as he turns you around while still inside you, landing on his back as he laces his fingers through your locks, moaning your name with every lick and every taste he takes from you. It’s like the gods have blessed you, bringing you this man, this mountain of a man that feeds your every need. And gods, you don’t think you will ever get enough of him.
   He disconnects from your swollen lips, resting his sweat covered forehead on yours as he concentrates on his swift strokes inside you, planting his hands firmly on your hips as he takes you for the ride of your life. “Yeah, that’s it, Starlight, You’re almost there, I can feel how much you’re squeezing. Let it out, let me feel it,” he growls through clenched teeth, trying not to fall apart before you do.
   He speeds up his thrusts, filling you fuller than anyone else has before, rutting into you at just the right angle where you can feel him start to uncoil all your tethered connections as your body slackens against his hold on you. 
   One more hard, long thrust and you’re done. “Marcusssss,” you moan, feeling the heat slide down and spill over his entirety as you fall flush into his strong chest. He takes initiative and thrusts deeper, much harder than before, desperate to chase his own release.
   He threads his brows together and groans your name quietly, his lips lingering over the shell of your ear as he takes three more breaths and then spills ropes of hot white cum inside your sticky core. 
   You moan together in ecstasy, bodies entwined as he empties his seed inside you, chests heaving with exhaustion as he carefully pulls out from inside you and collapses on the bed with a thud, your body slack against his as the damp, dirty sheets shift around your naked bodies. 
   After a few seconds of ragged breaths, he pulls your back flush against his sweaty chest and drapes an arm around you, holding you close as you let the sun slowly slip behind dark clouds that paint the sky violet colors.
   “You need a bath,” you giggle as you lace your fingers through his.
   “So do you,” he chuckles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a huff. “Just let me lay here a few more minutes. I’m exhausted,” he murmurs as he pulls you as close as humanly possible to his warm chest. You cozy up to him and sigh, relaxing into his warm touch, reveling in this soft moment that seems more rare than nights you get him all to yourself. 
   The room is sweltering, his scent clinging to every part of your body as you bathe in the smell of sweat, dirt, spice, and something that smells a lot just like him. He’s like your very own glass of fine wine, the perfect combination of class and just downright filth. He’s just… perfect. Perfect for you, the only man you truly want. And maybe that’s because you’re in love with him. Maybe that’s why you cling to him as much as you can, afraid he’ll be taken from you at a moment’s notice.
   You can’t lie to yourself, you’re absolutely terrified each time he steps into that arena, knowing the emperor wouldn’t even bat an eyelash if a man slaughtered him to shreds. You fidget against the damp sheets, cringing at the thought of blood filling his lungs, his body parts pulled apart by barbarians as he takes his last breath and slips into the dark abyss. 
   You clamp your eyes shut, thinking of Mina dragging him off to get married, thinking of him choosing another woman over you once he’s offered to cut ties in the arena if he marries someone with a higher title. You tremble at the thought of him leaving you all alone, like you never meant anything to him, like you were just a ragdoll for him to control whenever he wanted, like you don’t mean a damn thing other than knowing you’ll always be there at his command when he wants to blow some steam off from the arena. 
   You fight the uncontrollable tears that lick the backs of your eyes, plead to not break down in front of him, beg the gods to have some mercy on your soul if you were about to lose this man. You can’t lose him; you won’t lose him, unless he walks away and tells you to stay like a helpless dog losing their only person they know will take care of them.
   You can’t stand it, can’t hold in the emotions any longer, so you let them flow, feeling the tears like icy shards spilling down your burning cheeks.
   “Hey, hey, hey. Are you crying?” he asks with alarm in his deep, gravelly voice.
   “No,” you croak out as another tear falls like raindrops on the bed. 
   “Hey now, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong,” he pushes softly, turning you around till you’re facing his direction, concern laced in his soft brown eyes.
   You stare at him with sad eyes, nervously twisting your fingers in the silky sheets that are now covered in grime and sweat. You can’t tell him you’re scared to lose him, you just… can’t.
   “Starlight, talk to me. Tell me what it is.” His fingertips brush off a falling tear, and you shake your head slowly. 
   “It’s nothing…”
   He cups your chin and tilts your head up to where your eyes are aligned with his, and in those eyes swims the most sincere gaze he’s ever given you in his entire life. “It’s not nothing if it’s making you cry. Now talk to me. I’m right here.”
   His fingertips feel like velvet dragging across your cheek, soft brown eyes weighing into yours as he gives you his full attention. And it’s no use now hiding your feelings; you need to just clear the air and get it off your chest.
   You take a deep breath and focus before you choke your words out. “I’m scared, Marcus.”
   “Scared of what?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he hears you out.
   “Of losing you…”
   He sighs and runs his thumb gently down your jawline, stroking it up and down as the soothing feeling seems to settle your nerves. “Oh, Starlight. You’re never going to lose me.”
   You swallow the thick lump in your throat, holding back tears as you shake your head. “I could lose you any day in that arena. The things they put you through, the people you have to kill, the absolute horror you have to go through just to stay alive!” 
   His eyes go wide, but he lets you continue. “I don’t want to watch you die, Marcus! I don’t want them to keep feeding you to the wolves like you’re some kind of mindless entertainment for the city of Rome!”
   He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, slowly opening them back up as he cups the back of your neck. “I know, baby. I know…”
   Baby? That’s new….
   “Just trust me that I know what I’m doing, and that I’ll fight like hell to win my freedom back,” he sighs, his eyes glistening with a look like pain etched in the crevices of those golden brown irises.  
   “What if your freedom meant taking a wife, marrying someone with a title…” you whisper, barely able to lock eyes as he scrunches his forehead together.
   “What?” he asks with lines mapped against his tanned skin, considering your ridiculous question. “What do you mean take a wife with a title?”
   “Someone like Mina,” you murmur quietly.
   “Mina?” he asks with wide eyes.
   “She’s been obsessed with you ever since you first stepped into that arena. The way she looks at you… she could have you with a snap of her fingers if only she asked her father. And Marcus, I don’t want…”
   “Whoa there, slow down. Mina? Where is all this coming from? I have no interest in Mina.”
   You gulp, eyes dropping to the twisted sheets as you feel your heart stutter in your chest. “I overhear her all the time. The way she swoons over you, the way she dreams that one day you’ll notice her in the arena. And then… and what if you want to get married? Not even to her, but to someone with money, a title, someone royal, maybe someone that’ll get you out of here quicker? What if you…”
   You close your eyes tight, afraid you’ve spoken too much, afraid you’ve ruined everything as you lay in a heap with your heart pounding in your chest like a ticking time bomb. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did that, if you saved yourself from the brink of death. But I… I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, too. If you were to choose someone else…”
   You let the tears collect in your eyes, feel them slipping down your face as you try your best not to throw anything else frantic and chaotic into the stormy clouds above Rome. You’ve already said too much, too fast. You weren’t supposed to say anything.
   He lifts his head and stares at you, wordlessly assessing your fragile features as his eyes turn a soft brown, eyebrows knitting together as his eyes become glossy like yours. “Starlight, no. I don’t want Mina, I never did. And I would never ever leave you for someone else, even if it got me out of that pit faster. The only woman I want to see is you. If I haven’t made that clear before, I’m sorry. But… baby, you belong to me. You’re mine.”
   “I’m… yours?” you ask carefully, your tears spilling over the edges uncontrollably as you cling to his chest.
   “Of course you’re mine, Starlight. You’ve been mine since the first day I locked eyes on your beautiful face,” he whispers, curling a lock of hair behind your ear as you breathe in deep, surrounding yourself in the very essence of him as he tells you exactly how he’s felt the whole time this has been going on. “I’ve been yours longer than you know.”
   You whimper out a sigh, threading your fingers through his tousled hair as you stare into starry brown eyes that you’d really like to slip in and stay for all eternity. “Really?” you ask with wonder in your eyes.
   “Really,” he nods. “Do you know why I call you Starlight?”
   “No,” you whisper quietly, shaking your head as a fresh tear streams down your skin. He catches it with his thumb and caresses your cheek gently as his calloused fingers soothe your cloudy thoughts. 
   “Because you’re the brightest thing I see every single time I step into that arena. The only thing that keeps me fighting week after week in that bloodbath is you, so I can get back to you.”
   His answer leaves you completely breathless as you suck in warm air, your body still as you look longingly at the man that starts devastating wildfires in your heart.
   “Me?” you ask in a shaky breath.
   “You,” he nods with a smile. “The very first time I stepped into the arena, the first thing that crossed my vision was your eyes. Those beautiful, sparkling eyes were the only thing I focused on, the only thing that kept me from losing myself on that battlefield was you.”
   You gasp, his deep words taking the breath from your lungs as he confesses about the first time he noticed you, saw you, really, truly saw you. You weren’t invisible to him. You were never invisible. “Marcus…” you say shakily as he strokes your jawline lovingly. “But… I… I’m just a simple woman. I have no titles, no money to my name, no prospects. I’m just… me,” you state slowly.
   He sighs, cupping his hand around the back of your head as his fingers lazily stroke through your strands gently. “I don’t care, Starlight. I don’t care about money or titles or really anything about an important name. What's life of riches and freedom if I can’t have you?” 
   You swear your heart blooms like lush roses in your chest as you hear those words repeat again and again in your mind. He wants you, he wants you.
   “I want you,” he repeats, as if he can hear the sounds of doubt play in your mind like a music box that won’t stop spinning.��
   He cups both sides of your face and looks at you with pure intent in his glossy brown eyes. “I want you every day, every minute, every second, and I burn for you in that arena,” he promises as his lips graze over yours delicately. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you sitting in the audience all wide-eyed and beautiful. And I want you even more now that I have you, want you by my side every minute of every day because I can’t stand the thought of losing you. And I’ll fight like hell to earn my freedom back because I love you.”
   He loves you.
   “Marcus, I…” 
   He crashes his lips against yours, a hot, needy, yearning kiss that nearly sends you soaring into the night sky as his lips surge like fire through your very veins. It’s soft like snow, kissing at your eyelashes as you let him pull you flush to his chest, needing to be as close as possible as love burns through your bodies, connecting them together as if this is the very first time you both ache to collide together. 
   “I love you, Marcus,” you whisper against his lips.
   He pulls you on top of his chest and sinks his mouth down on yours, slowly slotting his tongue in your mouth, drawing lazily circles as he drinks you down as you allow him to take all of you. Whatever he wants, whatever he needs from you he has. He tastes like the stars that shimmer in the sky, and you’ll be his entire galaxy, his Starlight that’ll guide him off the battlefield of the arena and back into your arms where he’s safe from harm.
   When he disconnects from your mouth, he stares at you, his soft brown eyes shimmering up at you as he runs his calloused fingers tenderly through your hair. “You’re mine, Starlight.”
   “I’m yours,” you repeat, smiling down at him as he brushes his lips against your forehead, kissing you with love written all over his touch as he pulls you up from the bed. 
   “Come on, my love. Let’s go take a bath,” he says softly as he picks you up and carries you to the bathing chamber, his strong arms cradling you against his warm chest as he places a lasting kiss to your forehead. 
   All your worries are shed, all false pretenses are gone, everything you were mourning over is suddenly lifted off your shoulders as they fly away into the night sky. This man is yours, and he’s never ever planning on letting you go. 
   Starlight shines brighter than any Roman Empire games, and you’re his guiding light back home.
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queenpiranhadon · 2 months ago
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parts 1 , 2, 3
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You and Katsuki have been close. You always have been. You've always have a close bond with him ever since you, Kirishima and himself were trapped together during the USJ incident, and consequently, you saved his life from a villain.
The sheer determination in your eyes... he knew that you would be an amazing hero.
But unlike Deku, he didn't feel threatened by your presence, no.
You were just...different.
You were special to him, as he was to you. Everyone knew that.
Katsuki just didn't know why.
Why did he feel like he couldn't breathe when he wakes up from a nightmare without you by his side?
Why does he feel like the sun shines just a little bit brighter to make you glow like the angel you were.
And why did you always seem to make him want to smile, a big smile that stretched across his face, big and goofy as if he was 9 years old again.
Why?
Because he loved you.
But he realized it too late.
He never stopped loving you, no, and neither you him.
It was just the wrong time and the wrong place.
Because, this time, the League knew what his breaking point was, what it would take to force Bakugou Katsuki to join their ranks.
This time, they had you.
Bakugou Katsuki, only in his first year of UA, kidnapped by the League of Villains during the disastrous battle at the attempted summer camp UA hosted, was chained to his seat, unable to move, both because of his physical restraints, but his emotional ones too.
"You join us, and we won't hurt her."
There, on the low quality TV was camera footage of a room with while walls and tiling. That room was your hospital room.
You were asleep, your precious body littered in bandages. Katsuki wanted to scream bloody murder, sob his eyes out or even tear the eyes out of the League who was grinning victoriously at the sight of the murderous defeat in his eyes.
He couldn't fight back.
Not when you weren't safe.
How could he have been so stupid?!
Why wasn't he strong enough to protect you?!
This time, Bakugou Katsuki didn't run away with his fellow students.
Instead, he stood there numbly, feeling his heart break apart piece by piece until it was completely shattered unable to do anything as he watched you scream at him with tears in your eyes until your throat went raw, red lines appearing on Todoroki's forearms as he holds you back, preventing you from running to your best friend.
Your Katsuki.
But it was too late.
He thinks he left his heart behind when he left you that day. stepping back into the inky darkness that got him into this situation in the first place.
The last thing he saw of you was the gut wrenching love in your eyes as you watching him slip away.
The pain, the agony, the desperation, the relief of knowing he was alive - it all came from the love you felt for him.
But love was dangerous.
And he knew that better than anyone.
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A/N: Lowk sobbing at this rn should I make a part two?? This girlie is a sucker for happy endings
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julietsf1 · 15 days ago
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Frights & Feuds (🎃) - Franco Colapinto x Reader
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summary: Y/N and Franco never liked each other, but leave it to Lando to throw them into matching costumes at his Halloween party.
warnings: smut!! mdni!!!
AN: so I’ve figured out that I can’t follow anyone back as this is my secondary blog! no moots, just vibes 😔 but wanted to say I really love all the sweet comments I’ve gotten on the last few posts!! I’m traveling for work rn so I might be a bit less responsive, but I appreciate them so much, makes my day! anyway here’s something new <3
___________________________________________
The salty breeze hit my face as I stepped onto Lando’s yacht, excitement bubbling in my chest. A Star Wars-themed Halloween party—on a yacht, no less—was basically a dream come true. I mean, who wouldn't want to channel their inner galactic hero for a night? My white jumpsuit, the one Padmé wore in Attack of the Clones, was snug in all the right places, and with the plastic blaster on my hip, I actually felt like I could take on an army of battle droids.
The yacht itself, though… that was something else entirely.
It was like Halloween had exploded. Neon orange cobwebs, flickering plastic pumpkins, and inflatable ghosts swayed ominously in the breeze. If there was such a thing as too many decorations, Lando had found it and then doubled down. I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath as I stepped onto the deck.
“It looks like Party City threw up,” I muttered, shaking my head in amusement. Somehow, that made it perfect. Only Lando could pull off something this chaotic and get away with it.
I wasn’t mad though—this level of over-the-top was what I’d come to expect from him. It was chaotic, ridiculous, and, in its own weird way, perfect. The kind of vibe that told you anything could happen tonight, and honestly? That was exactly what I’d signed up for.
I made my way through the growing crowd, dodging people dressed in costumes so random they made me question if we were even at the same party. Carlos strutted by in his sexy fireman outfit, suspenders barely clinging to his shoulders, a grin stretched across his face.
“Senator,” he said with a mock salute, flexing unnecessarily as he passed.
I laughed. “Carlos, put those away. No one's here to see that.”
“Oh, they are. Trust me.” He winked and strutted off, clearly enjoying the attention.
Just ahead, I spotted Oscar, and… I had to blink twice. He had a slice of bread taped to his chest, and a gold medal swinging from his neck. “Breadwinner,” I muttered, shaking my head.
As I weaved through the madness, Alex clanked around in a robot suit that squeaked with every step. I waved at him, trying not to laugh too hard as his costume practically fell apart before my eyes.
I stopped in my tracks when I caught sight of Max. The world champion himself was dressed as an old lady, complete with a wig, glasses, and a cane. He was shuffling around like he had all the time in the world, and I could practically hear him muttering about “these young people” as he dodged a dancing Daniel, who was in full cowboy mode.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, barely able to contain my laughter as I snapped a quick photo for future blackmail.
Despite the absurdity of it all, the party was fun in that weird, chaotic way that only Lando could pull off. I could already tell it was going to be one of those nights where anything could happen.
Now, if only I could find the mastermind behind this whole mess.
I pushed my way through the crowd, determined to track down Lando and demand an explanation for why I was Padmé in a party full of random costumes. Finally, I spotted him at the bar, leaning casually against the counter in a football jersey, a lazy grin spread across his face.
“Lando!” I called, marching up to him with all the authority I could muster in the little jumpsuit. “We need to talk.”
He turned, his grin widening when he saw me. “Ah, Senator Amidala herself! You made it. Looking good, by the way.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “What is this? You told me this party had a Star Wars theme.”
Lando gave me a look of pure innocence, raising his hands. “I said you had a Star Wars theme. Everyone’s got their own thing going on.”
I blinked. “So, this—” I gestured around the deck, “—isn’t a themed party?”
“Nope!” He popped the “p” with a proud grin. “I thought it’d be more fun to give everyone different costumes. You know, shake things up a bit. Keep people on their toes.”
I groaned, but I couldn’t help laughing. “Of course you did. Why am I even surprised?”
“Come on, you love it,” Lando teased, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “It’s Halloween. You’re supposed to embrace the chaos.”
I snorted. “Chaos, yes. But coordinated chaos, at least. Can’t believe I’m the only one in full Star Wars gear.”
Lando’s grin stretched wider, that mischievous spark lighting up his eyes. “Well, not exactly the only one.”
Before I could even process what that meant, the crowd shifted, and I spotted him.
Franco Colapinto.
He was making his way across the deck, dressed head-to-toe as Anakin Skywalker, lightsaber strapped to his belt, the leather tunic pulling the whole look together in a way that made him stand out. Hair fluffy, stupid grin on his face and a little sparkle in his eyes. I felt a flutter in my stomach. Not because he looked so good—no, more like an annoyance flutter, obviously. Of all people, Lando had paired me with him?
I whipped around to face Lando, who was grinning ear to ear. “Lando. Why the hell is he Anakin?”
Lando laughed, hands up defensively. “Come on, it’s perfect! Padmé and Anakin? Star-crossed lovers, forbidden love, the whole deal. I’m a genius.”
My jaw clenched as I shot Lando a warning glare. “You’re an idiot.”
Franco reached us just as I was about to march off. “Really, Lando?” he said, his tone dripping with irritation. “You had to pair me up with her?”
I crossed my arms, irritation spiking. “Wow, I see you’re already embracing the Anakin vibe. Got the whole ‘whiny man baby’ thing down perfectly.” I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow. “What’s next, you gonna throw a tantrum?”
His smirk faltered for a split second before he shot back. “You’d know all about being dramatic, wouldn’t you, Senator?”
I crossed my arms, my annoyance flaring. “Oh please, just so you know, no one’s thrilled about this.”
He shot me an exasperated look. “Right, because being stuck with me is so unbearable.”
“Pretty high on the list, actually,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Lando, sensing the tension but clearly loving every second of it, grinned even wider. “Look at this! You two are just proving my point.”
“There is no vibe,” Franco and I said in unison, whipping around to glare at Lando. I could feel my cheeks burning as Franco’s gaze flicked toward me, clearly enjoying the fact that we’d said the same thing at the same time.
Lando, ever the shit-stirrer, shrugged. “Sure, whatever you say. But come on, you guys have been bickering for months. It’s exhausting. Just fuck and get it over with.”
Franco scoffed, folding his arms. “Throw me overboard, please.”
I laughed, feeling a bit of satisfaction at his remark. “Same.”
Lando wiggled his eyebrows. “See? Perfect match.”
I was ready to smack the grin off his face. Instead, I opted for a glare. “Lando, there is no match. You’ve been watching too many movies.”
Franco glanced at me, that smug smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Although I can’t blame him for thinking you’d fall for me. I look good tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, already done with this conversation. “Don’t get any ideas.”
Franco chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave the ideas to Norris here.”
Lando beamed as if he’d just won the lottery, clearly thrilled that his plan was working—at least in his mind. “This is gonna be fun.”
I huffed and turned on my heel, determined to find someone else to talk to. Anyone but Franco. Tonight was going to be a nightmare.
..
The thrum of music pulsed through the yacht, vibrating beneath my feet as I wove through the crowd, trying to shake off the lingering annoyance of my earlier encounter with Franco. But even surrounded by the chaos of Lando’s party, it was hard to ignore the nagging feeling that he was somewhere nearby, probably plotting his next move.
I spotted Charles near the bar, sipping something that was probably far too fancy for a Halloween party. He was still in his banana costume—because of course Lando would put him in something like that. And yet, somehow, Charles managed to pull it off, still looking unfairly attractive despite being dressed as a literal piece of fruit.
“Y/N!” he called, waving me over with a wide grin. “Come, dance with me!”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I joined him, his infectious energy making it hard to stay in a bad mood. “You’re the only person who can make a banana look good, you know that?”
He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “It’s a gift.”
The music shifted to something more upbeat, and before I could object, Charles pulled me onto the makeshift dance floor. We started moving to the rhythm, his goofy dance moves making me laugh as we twirled around the deck.
It was nice, a welcome distraction from the tension of earlier. That is, until I glanced across the floor and spotted Franco. He was dancing with Alexandra St. Mleux, Charles’s girlfriend, who was dressed as a blueberry—because apparently, that’s what Lando had decided was her fate for the night. Her sleek, dark hair framed her face, and despite the ridiculous costume, she looked effortlessly elegant, as always.
Franco, meanwhile, was his usual smug self, moving with a confidence that grated on my nerves. His eyes met mine briefly, and I could practically see the challenge flash in them. Of course, he couldn’t just leave me in peace.
“Don’t look now,” Charles whispered, leaning in as we twirled closer to Franco and Alexandra, “but I think someone’s trying to make you jealous.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jealous? Please. If anything, I’m just annoyed I have to see his face all night.”
Charles chuckled softly. “Whatever you say.”
We danced around the floor, Charles keeping things light and fun while Franco, predictably, kept throwing glances my way. It was like we were locked in some kind of silent competition, neither of us willing to back down or show any sign of weakness.
Eventually, the two pairs ended up near each other, Franco and Alexandra’s dance bringing them close enough that I could hear Franco’s voice, laced with sarcasm. “Careful, Y/N. Don’t trip in those boots. Would hate to see you fall.”
I shot him a withering look. “At least I don’t have to rely on flashy dance moves to distract from my shitty personality.”
Alexandra glanced between us, her elegant face calm, but I could see the glimmer of amusement in her eyes. She exchanged a quick look with Charles, who raised an eyebrow.
“Ils ne s’arrêtent jamais, hein ? On change de partenaire ?” (They never stop, do they? Shall we switch partners?)
Charles nodded, laughing softly. “Ouais, ils vont jamais tenir comme ça.” (Yeah, they’re not gonna last like this.)
Without warning, Charles stepped back, giving Alexandra an exaggerated bow. “May I have this dance?”
Alexandra giggled and curtsied in return. “Of course, mon coeur. You two, don’t kill each other!”
I blinked, caught off guard as Charles grabbed Alexandra’s hand, leaving me standing there, suddenly face-to-face with Franco. He didn’t waste a second, stepping into position, his hand catching mine in a smooth, annoyingly practiced movement.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me again,” Franco said, his voice low and taunting.
I narrowed my eyes. “What a miserable party so far.”
We started to move, circling each other as the music continued to play. The space between us was tight, and the only thickened. My heart pounded with every step, my pulse quickening not from attraction, definitely not. It had to be from the frustration of being stuck in this forced proximity. I could feel Franco’s breath, hot against my skin as we moved, and it made my teeth clench.
“You really should loosen up,” he said, his tone patronizing. “You’re a bit stiff.”
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my cool. “And you should stop trying so hard to impress everyone.”
Franco raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Oh, is that what you think I’m doing? Are you impressed?”
“Hardly,” I said, struggling to maintain some distance as we moved in sync. His arm brushed against mine every few seconds, and each touch felt like a spark that kept building. A spark of annoyance of course.
His gaze flicked down to my feet, and he chuckled. “You know, for someone who likes to talk big, your dancing skills could use some work. Trying not to step on my toes?”
I felt a surge of irritation. “Maybe I should. It might actually shut you up.”
Franco’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Go ahead. I can take it.”
I didn’t hesitate. Before I could second-guess myself, I stomped down hard on his foot. The satisfying thud made him wince, his smirk faltering for a split second. The rush of satisfaction was immediate, and I pulled away from him, offering a sweet, sarcastic smile.
“There,” I said, with faux sweetness. “Happy?”
Franco, still gritting his teeth, shot me a look that said he was both irritated and impressed. “Thrilled.”
Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked off, feeling the tension melt away with each step. I spotted George by the drinks, watching the whole thing with an amused smile. His Shakespearean costume—complete with ruffled collar and feathered quill—stood out for all the wrong reasons.
As I approached, George raised an eyebrow and took a dramatic sip from his drink. “A thousand times more captivating than the finest of plays,” he said in a mock-Shakespearean voice, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Verily, the bickering hath been most entertaining.”
I huffed, crossing my arms. “Don’t.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying my frustration. “What? I’m just saying. It’s entertaining.”
“I swear, Lando’s going to pay for this,” I muttered, grabbing a drink from the bar.
George chuckled softly. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But, if it makes you feel any better, I’m fairly certain you got Franco good there.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
He nodded, trying and failing to hide a grin. “He’s limping.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension from the dance fading as I sipped my drink. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total disaster after all.
..
I took another sip of my drink, letting the laughter and music swirl around me. After the disaster of dancing with Franco, I was ready for a moment of peace. Nearby, George—ever the history enthusiast—was in the middle of a dramatic lecture on Halloween traditions, his Shakespearean outfit only adding to the theatrical flair. Oscar and Lewis stood at his side, looking like trapped animals in search of an escape route.
“So you see,” George continued, waving his feathered quill like it was a sword, “the tradition of carving pumpkins actually stems from the Irish myth of Stingy Jack. A fellow who tricked the devil himself and was condemned to wander the Earth with only a hollowed-out turnip to light his way.”
Oscar blinked slowly, clearly trying to appear engaged. “Turnip, huh? Fascinating.”
Lewis, looking angelic in his costume complete with wings cleared his throat. “That’s, um, really something, mate. But I should… probably check on something.” He made a hasty retreat, flashing Oscar a grateful look as he melted into the crowd.
George sighed dramatically as he watched him go. “He’s made a habit of leaving me recently. You’d think I’m the devil, and Ferrari’s his hollowed-out turnip.”
Oscar smirked, trying not to laugh. “Or maybe it’s because you get a bit... passionate with your history lessons. No offense.”
George flourished his quill with an exaggerated air of gravitas. “I am nothing if not committed to the education of my peers.”
I joined them just as Oscar gave me a playful nudge. “You missed quite the lecture on the importance of pumpkins.”
I chuckled, taking a sip of my drink. “I’m sure it was riveting.”
Oscar’s eyes flicked over my costume, a mischievous glint in them. “By the way, love the couple’s costume. Padmé and Anakin? Very cute.”
I groaned, already feeling the familiar annoyance creep up. “Don’t even start. I swear, if this blaster were real, I’d have already used it on him.”
Oscar laughed, shaking his head. “Easy there, Senator. You don’t want to go full dark side.”
I sighed, leaning back against the bar. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn’t quite pinpoint why Franco and I rubbed each other the wrong way. Sure, his cocky smirk was enough to set me on edge, but there was more to it than that. Something about his whole persona made me want to throttle him.
“You’re really not into the whole star-crossed lovers thing, huh?” Oscar teased.
I shot him a look. “If I wanted a tragic romance, I’d read a book. Right now, I just want to make it through this night without throwing Franco off the yacht.”
Oscar’s grin widened. “You two have a vibe, though. It’s hard to miss.”
I rolled my eyes. “If by ‘vibe,’ you mean I’d love to smack him in the face, then sure.”
Before Oscar could respond, Carlos swooped in with a grin, his fireman costume still drawing more attention than it should have. “Ah, the fighting—classic signs of passion. You know what they say about hate, right?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. It’s passion in disguise?”
Carlos wagged a finger at me, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Exactly. All that energy has to go somewhere. I’m a fireman, I recognize fire when I see it.”
“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “I am not taking you serious as a fireman with a uniform like that.”
Carlos laughed, undeterred. “You know, sparks like this? They usually lead to something pretty interesting.”
I crossed my arms. “It’s not sparks, Carlos. It’s a dumpster fire.”
..
The bass of the music was pulsing through the yacht as Lando spun track after track in the DJ booth, looking far too pleased with himself. A crowd had gathered around, hyped up by his usual antics, and the energy was infectious. I was craving a break from all the drama and tension on the deck, so I made my way over to him. He spotted me and waved me in with an exaggerated grin.
“Y/N!” he shouted over the music. “Come save me from my own brilliance!”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling as I slipped into the booth. “Brilliance, huh? Pretty sure you’re just pressing buttons.”
“Hey, there’s an art to this,” Lando replied, turning a dial with unnecessary flair. “You’re just not refined enough to get it.”
I snorted. “Right, forgot you’re the second comming of Beethoven.”
He shot me a cheeky grin. “Finally you appreciate my genius. Speaking of appreciating things—what’s the status with you and lover boy over there?”
I frowned, confused. “Lover boy? What are you talking about?”
Lando gestured with his chin toward the bar. I followed his gaze and—of course—there was Franco, surrounded by a group of girls, all of them looking way too captivated by whatever nonsense he was saying. I felt an annoying twinge of something in my chest.
“Oh him. Glad he’s entertaining the entire female population on this yacht and out of my way.” I muttered, taking a sip of my drink.
Lando’s eyes gleamed, and he leaned in with a wicked grin. “Ohhh, someone's sounding a little jealous.”
I shot him a look. “You are out of your damn mind, Norris.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” Lando said, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve got that tone, Y/N. The one where you’re pretending you don’t care but deep down you do.”
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “Lando, I don’t care. At all.”
He smirked. “Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England. Come on, just admit it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, I’m thrilled to have a break.”
Lando leaned closer, lowering his voice dramatically. “Darling, you totally dig that weird tension you’ve got. Sucks you’re too stubborn to admit it.”
I nudged him, hard. “I swear, you’re the most annoying person on this boat.”
He laughed, dodging me as he adjusted the volume. “I live to serve. But come on, there’s clearly a thing here.”
“There’s no thing,” I said, crossing my arms. “He just rubs me the wrong way. That’s it.”
Lando looked at me mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows. “Maybe you should ask if he can rub you—”
“Don’t,” I warned.
He flashed a wicked grin. “Fine, fine. But it’s only a matter of time.”
I shoved him again, a little harder this time, accidentally knocking over my drink which spilled directly onto the electronics.
“Oh, shit!” I gasped, scrambling to grab a napkin, but it was too late.
A loud pop echoed through the booth, and suddenly, the entire yacht went dark. The music cut off, the lights blinked out, and silence descended over the party.
For a second, there was nothing but confused murmuring from the crowd, people pulling out their phones for light. But Lando? Lando was doubled over, laughing like a maniac.
“Oh my God,” he gasped between fits of laughter. “You—You just shut down the entire party!”
I stood there, frozen in disbelief. “I didn’t mean to! I—oh my God, what did I do?”
Lando was still laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
I glared at him. “Lando! This is serious!”
But he couldn’t stop. “Serious? This is the funniest thing! Instantly makes the party more interesting.”
As people around us tried to figure out what was happening, Lando clapped me on the shoulder, still chuckling. “You’re a hot mess, Y/N. Never change.”
As the yacht rocked gently in the dark, I couldn’t help but laugh with him. Leave it to Lando to find humor in the disaster I’d just caused.
..
The yacht was pitch black, save for the glow of a few phone screens. Lando, ever the opportunist in chaos, was soaking it all in, practically buzzing with excitement.
"Alright, people!" he yelled, his voice carrying over the deck. "The power’s out, the music’s dead—so you know what that means. It’s time for a game of truth or dare!"
A chorus of laughter and groans followed, but with the party in full swing, no one was about to leave just because the lights were out. Alex, the saint that he is, immediately started working on fixing the power while the other people started gathering in a loose circle, the mood shifting into something more mischievous, encouraged by the anonymity the dark provided.
I found myself sitting next to Oscar, who still had his ridiculous slice of bread taped to his chest, and on my other side, George, who looked far too excited for whatever was about to happen. Across the circle, Franco leaned back against the railing, his face barely visible in the flickering light of someone’s phone, but I could sense that annoying grin of his even in the dark.
“Alright, who’s first?” Lando asked, rubbing his hands together like he was about to start the most chaotic plan of the night.
Max, who was still rocking the old lady costume, raised his hand. “Truth,” he said, a little too eagerly.
Lando grinned. “Max! Alright, truth: Have you ever used a fake name at a hotel to avoid fans?”
Max barely hesitated. “Of course. I go by ‘Gertrude’—suits the look, don’t you think?” He gestured to his outfit, earning laughs from around the circle.
Lando chuckled, then pointed at Oscar. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Oscar sighed dramatically, clearly not enthused but willing to play along. “Dare.”
Lando’s grin widened. “Alright, I dare you to dance… interpretively… to the sound of silence.”
Oscar rolled his eyes but stood up, performing the most absurd, exaggerated dance moves to the silent deck. Everyone was in hysterics by the end of it, with Oscar bowing dramatically before sitting back down.
The game rolled on, with truths and dares flying left and right. Checo was dared to chug a mystery drink—something Max had mixed together from the darkest corners of the yacht’s mini-bar. Lewis was asked to reveal his most embarrassing podium moment, which turned out to involve him tripping over a champagne bottle and almost face-planting in front of the world’s cameras.
And then it was my turn.
Lando turned to me, that gleam in his eyes saying he was about to stir the pot. “Y/N. Truth or dare?”
I sighed, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on me. “Dare,” I said, determined to go for it.
Lando’s grin widened, and I could see mischief brewing in his eyes. “Alright, Y/N, since you’re so brave… I dare you to whisper something you’d never admit in front of anyone—right in Franco’s ear.”
The circle erupted in laughter and teasing whistles. I felt my face go hot, and I shot Lando a murderous look. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope!” Lando said, looking far too proud of himself. “And make it something juicy, too.”
I crossed my arms, the heat rising in my cheeks as Franco leaned back, arms crossed, smirking like this was the greatest thing that could’ve happened to him tonight.
“Well?” he drawled, clearly enjoying the situation. “You gonna play along?”
The group was watching, waiting, and there was no way I could back out now. I steeled myself, got up, and marched over to him. Leaning down, I got as close to his ear as possible, feeling the warmth radiate off him.
I hesitated for a split second, questioning if I should really be honest, before whispering, just loud enough for only him to hear, “You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met, and the fact that you know you’re hot makes it worse.”
I pulled back quickly, my face burning, refusing to meet his gaze. His smirk deepened, but to my surprise, he didn’t respond—just stared at me, eyes glinting in the dim light, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. For a moment, I thought he looked… confused, entertained? Seems like I had succesfully thrown him off his game though.
But the confusion didn’t last long. Franco shifted back into his cocky persona like slipping on an old coat, leaning casually against the railing with that same infuriating smirk. Whatever moment had passed between us was over, buried beneath his usual act.
“Well, that must’ve been juicy,” Lando said, cackling. “Look at his face!”
I sat back down, trying to shake off the weird tension that seemed to hang in the air. Franco didn’t say anything, but I could feel his eyes on me. Whatever. It wasn’t worth dwelling on.
The game continued, people laughing and shouting as the dares got more ridiculous, but my focus was elsewhere.
..
Thank god that it didn’t take long for Alex to fix the electricity with a generator. The lights flickered back on, the music resumed, and the entire yacht buzzed with renewed energy. George, of course, was taking full credit for saving the night, and Alex looked just as proud.
People were back to dancing and laughing, picking up right where they left off. The power outage had become just another part of the weird night. But after the tension from earlier—the truth or dare, the constant run-ins with Franco—I needed a break from it all.
The temperature had dropped, and my costume wasn’t offering much warmth.
I slipped away from the crowd, making my way toward Lando’s room, knowing he always kept a stash of hoodies and sweaters for moments like these. A moment of peace, away from the noise and tension, sounded perfect.
I pushed open the door to Lando’s room, expecting it to be empty. But, of course, my luck was running out tonight. Franco was there, standing near the closet, rummaging through Lando’s things.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped, my irritation flaring immediately.
He glanced up, completely unfazed by my entrance. “Looking for my lightsaber,” he said casually, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
“In Lando’s room?” I crossed my arms, my irritation spiking further. “Are you serious?”
Franco shrugged, standing upright with that infuriating smirk on his face. “What? It might’ve ended up here. You know how parties go.”
I rolled my eyes and moved toward the dresser. “Of course. Can’t even keep track of a toy.”
He leaned against the closet door, still watching me. “I didn’t realize my presence would offend you so much.”
I turned to face him, the frustration from the entire night bubbling up. “Your presence always offends me. Honestly, I hate that I have to see your stupid face everywhere.”
His smirk widened, eyes gleaming. “That’s funny, because I remember you saying earlier that you think I am hot.”
My hands tightened into fists at my sides. “I said that to get a reaction and get Lando off my back.”
“Sure,” he drawled, stepping closer. “Just happened to he something you came up with. I doubt you hate my face as much as you claim.”
“You are so full of yourself,” I spat, the anger flaring in my chest. “You walk around here like you own the place, thinking everyone is in love with you.”
Franco took another step, the space between us shrinking. “I’m not full of myself. I’m confident and charming. There’s a difference.”
“Charming?” I scoffed. “More like delusional.”
His expression darkened, but his smirk didn’t fade. “Oh, and you’re so different? Always twirling around, batting your eyelashes.”
I took a step toward him, my heart pounding. “I don’t twirl, and I don’t bat my eyelashes at anybody. Especially not to you.”
His eyes narrowed, and the tension between us thickened, our words sharper now, cutting into the air between us. “Please. You’re just pissed off because you can’t handle the fact that you are wildly attracted to me.”
“God, I hate you,” I growled, my voice barely above a whisper.
And then, before I could even process what was happening, I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him toward me. The kiss was sudden, explosive—born out of the fire of our argument. Franco didn’t hesitate, his hands gripping my waist as he kissed me back with the same intensity.
The heat between us was overwhelming, fueled by all the anger, all the frustration that had been building up. His lips were rough against mine, his body pressing me back against the wall as the kiss deepened.
His mouth was hot and demanding. I kissed him back, my frustration and desire merging into one explosive force. My fingers tangled in his hair, softly holding on to his brown locks for support. He groaned, making my mind run places I didn’t think it would.
Breaking away for air, I gasped, "This doesn’t change anything."
Franco chuckled, his warm breath fanning my face. "Keep telling yourself that, cariño."
He still towered over me, my body between his and the door.
"You think you know everything, don't you?” I said rolling my eyes, only half annoyed.
"I know what I want right now," he murmured, his hands sliding up my thighs, tugging on the waistband of my shorts. "And I want you."
I hate to admit but that definitely sent some flutters to my stomach. Without thinking I put my lips on his again.
He swiftly pulled down my shorts, fingers teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, making me tremble. I could feel his hardness against my stomach, and I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I tugged on his shirt, signaling to take it off.
With a smirk he stepped back and took off the top half of his costume, revealing his sculpted chest. I stared with googly eyes, not even caring at this point.
“¿Apurada, eh?” He grinned, his eyes dark with intent, "Good, because I can't wait much longer either."
He swiftly reached for my shirt and pulled it over my head. As I pulled down my pants, I could see a little blush creeping up on his cheeks.
I kissed him hard, biting his lower lip, tasting the saltiness of his skin. My hands explored his body, mapping the contours of his muscles. He groaned again, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing over my hardening nipples.
He smiled against my lips, his hands moving lower. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slowly slid them down my legs, his touch electric.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.
He lifted me up, his hands on my ass, wrapping my legs around him for support. He kissed me again, his tongue exploring my mouth as he undid my bra with practiced ease, freeing my breasts, and then lowered his head, taking a nipple into his mouth. I arched off the doorframe, moaning as his tongue teased and suckled.
"You like that, huh?" He whispered, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."
I could barely form words, but I managed to gasp, "Please, Franco..."
He moved one of his hands to between my thighs, feeling the arousal dripping between my legs.
"You're so wet," he murmured, his fingers working my sensitive clit, making me squirm. "You want me inside you, don't you?"
I nodded, my breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, please... I need you."
“Such a good girl for me.” He said, with a dark twinkle in his green eyes.
Franco did not waste a moment, quickly lowering his pants, letting his cock spring free. He positioned himself between my thighs, pressing against my entrance. With one smooth thrust, he filled me, stretching me in the most delicious way. I cried out.
He began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through me, building towards something incredible. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back, urging him on.
"Fuck, you feel amazing," he grunted, his eyes closed in concentration. "Tight... so fucking tight."
He started speeding up his pace. The tension coiled within me, tighter and tighter with each thrust. I could feel my orgasm building, a delicious pressure building at my core.
"Franco... I'm close," I panted, my voice hoarse.
He deepened his strokes, his hips snapping against mine, driving me wild. "Come for me, cariño. Let it go."
His words were all I needed. With a final, powerful thrust, I shattered, crying out his name as my body trem. Franco followed, his own release spilling deep within me, his hips jerking uncontrollably.
We both sank down on the ground, our hearts racing, our bodies slick with sweat. I turned my head, meeting his intense gaze.
Franco’s expression softened, the tension in the air shifting into something heavier, something neither of us could brush off. “I didn’t think this would feel so… right.”
I didn’t fight it this time. “Me either.”
He leaned in again, slower this time, as if daring me to stop him. But I didn’t. I closed the distance, giving in to the pull between us.
..
The door closed behind us with a soft click, and I took a breath, still trying to shake the whirlwind of what had just happened. The party outside was still going strong, lights and music filling the night air. Franco walked beside me, casual as ever, but the tension between us still lingered, making every step feel more charged than it should.
Before I could gather my thoughts, Lando appeared, sliding smoothly between us like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. His grin was wide, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Well, well, well!” he chimed, throwing an arm over each of our shoulders. “Look who finally decided to rejoin the living! What were you two doing in there? Having a nice little chat?”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. “Lando, can you not?”
“Can I not?” he gasped dramatically, pulling his arms back and clutching his chest like I’d mortally wounded him. “After all I’ve done for you two? I think you owe me some credit here.”
Franco smirked, clearly amused by Lando’s antics. “Credit for what? Being a pain in the ass?”
Lando sighed theatrically, looking between us. “Oh please, you’re both welcome. I’ve been watching this play out for weeks. It was only a matter of time.”
Franco glanced at me, catching my eye with a lingering look. His smirk softened slightly, his eyes flicking down briefly before meeting mine again, a warmth that hadn’t been there before.
I felt my breath catch, a slight flutter in my chest that I tried to ignore. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Norris,” I muttered, but my voice lacked its usual edge.
Franco chuckled, and I could feel the heat of his arm brushing against mine, his presence suddenly feeling heavier in the best way.
Lando caught the exchanged glances, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Oh, I see how it is,” he said, leaning back and pretending to cross his arms. “You two are having a moment and I’m just here… being forgotten.”
Franco raised an eyebrow, turning to me with a grin. “Looks like we’ve upset him.”
I shot him a warning look but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “Ignore him.”
Lando groaned. “You two are turning on me already.”
Franco leaned in a little closer to me, his voice low but loud enough for Lando to hear. “I guess we do make a good team.”
I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks at the comment, but I brushed it off with a playful scoff. “Don’t push your luck.”
Lando, meanwhile, was trying his best to get back into the conversation. “Anyway, now that you’ve finally gotten past all the tension, what’s next? Dinner? A romantic stroll under the moonlight?”
Franco grinned, glancing at me before turning back to Lando. “Actually, I was thinking breakfast.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”
Franco turned fully toward me, his grin softening just a little. “Yeah. Breakfast. Tomorrow.”
I leaned in smiling, giving him a little peck. “Sounds lovely.”
I swear Franco was blushing a bit, the twinkle in his eyes brighter than ever. Who would’ve thought.
Lando, realizing he wasn’t the one in control of the conversation anymore, groaned dramatically. “Gross. I’ve I had known I’d be third-wheeling this hard I would’ve not played cupid.”
Franco laughed, shaking his head. “Pretty sure you’ll survive.”
Lando stepped back, pretending to sulk. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” He turned to me, his grin reappearing. “For now.”
“Not surprised,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face.
Lando gave a little wave, already walking back toward the rest of the party. “Enjoy your breakfast date! And remember—you can thank me later!”
As he disappeared into the crowd, I let out a long breath, finally turning back to Franco. He was watching me, a quiet smile still playing on his lips.
“So, breakfast?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He nodded, leaning in slightly. “Yep. I figure we’ve had enough drama for one night. Why not start the day fresh?”
I met his eyes for a moment before nodding. That sounded very cute. “Alright. Breakfast it is.”
Franco grinned, the cocky edge softening into something more sincere. “I’ll pick you up at ten.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’d better be on time.”
“Oh, I will be,” he said, brushing his hand against mine for just a moment. “No way I’m missing this.”
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thesirencult · 10 days ago
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Channeled Letter From Your FS
reading by @thesirencult
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Pile 1
I'm not your regular cup of tea. I'm strong, forceful and focused on going after what I want and what I want right now is you. From the first moment I will lay my eyes on you it's game on. I will approach you boldly, you will be taken aback but then you will love the thrill of the chase. My, oh, my! You will be a hard catch, but I don't care, I will pursue you in a way no one else ever has. I'm not pursuing you tirelessly or trying to win you because of ego issues, but because even if I'm not sure about myself, I'm sure about you.
You are so amazing and so worthy of love that I will get over my fears and anxieties just to be with you. Love takes courage and risk and I have nothing but that! I hope that is enough for you, in the long run.
I'm not an "one hit wonder" though! I have stamina and will never let you down my love. I know that at first you will not feel the same about me, but I will win you over once you realize I'm not the tyoe of person to hit and dismiss, pardon me!
In time, I will come to know that you were scared to let me in because no one ever showed you unconditional love and gave you without expecting anything in return. "You are the breath that I breath, you are my one lucky star..."
I'm the one who does what needs to be done. I'm a go-getter who goes after their goals. An endless flame burns within me prompting me to do my best and to take risks. I charge full steam ahead and I'm very passionate. You have not met me yet cause I'm doing "side quests" to grow and mature, so I will be ready for you.
Take care princess!
Pile 2
I'm not the best at expressing my feelings through words, although in our relationship, I will do my best to show you have precious you are to me, words will never feel enough to convey the feelings.
I'll start with this one though: You were my last hope. Your love broke all my defenses and woke me up from my slumber. How could I ever live my life thinking that I was okay being by myself, all alone in the cold embrace of the shadows while you were right there, so close to me, warmth radiating off your skin and warming up my heart. "One last time..." I thought. "I'm willing to risk it all again for her. It will either be my biggest heartbreak or the love of a million lifetimes."
You found me while I was trying to rebuild myself and mend my wounds. In reality, I healed more by your side than I coukd have ever healed on my own. You cultivated a safe space for me to open up and share my inner world with you. You made me the man I'm now.
I trusted my intuition and went after you. I never doubted our connection, just the nature of it. Were we better off as friends? But look at us, we are best friends, lovers, family and soulmates! I risked losing you to gain more of you, although, more is never enough. You consume my thoughts each and every day. I smile on my own at work and forget what I was doing while I think about you and your smile and your voice and your sweet words and kisses. This has been going on for a while, I must admit... It has been happening since our first interactions. I wanted more and more of you, begging the Universe to let us live out our fairytale. The moment I surrendered to your whims and love was the moment I freed myself from the prison of loneliness.
"You did your best!" you always tell me with a smile and I agree because you make it sound like it's not that big of a deal. That's what you said when I told you I couldn't help but fall in love with you and indeed, I did my best, the best I could have done. You outsmarted your opponent with your sweetness and I came bare to a battle I should have come prepared. I don't care though. I love the way you think and how smart you are. I love how you never let anyone or anything get between us and how your smile lights up a room. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you are thinking of something naughty or when you are trying to seduce me and influence my thoughts. I always let you win, cause I got the best prize once and I don't need any more victories.
My prize is sitting on the couch right now, wrapped up in a blanket, pregnant and with a dog lazily sleeping by her feet. Our friends just left from the dinner we held in the house that we built. A house that will host many more oarties and celebrations, but also many more quiet nights that we will be slow dancing in the kitchen to oldies playing in the background. I wish everyone got to experience that type of love just for a moment, they would never doubt this magical force exists and I'm lucky, because my wife is full of it.
Thank you for everything my love. I'll do my best!
Yours forever and always and for each lifetime, x.
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yawn-emoji · 2 years ago
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#confiding in friends is good and helpful and healing until it becomes burdensome when u r in situations where nobody can give u advice#or comfort and all they can tell u are things u already know urself so u feel like a burden sharing things and stressing ppl out#by having them worry abt u w out being able to do anything abt it or offer u actual comfort in any way… :(#dont get me wrong im incredibly grateful for my friends but like if my dad is actively dying from cancer as we speak there is nothing u can#possibly say to help so all i do by sharing is make ppl feel pressured to comfort me even though there is no comfort to be given at all#ik u love me and ik i deserve a break from the difficult things life has been throwing at me for the last yr. ik those things already#and it almost hurts to hear them said again because like. ik those things are true and i wish they brought me comfort but they dont. nothing#brings me comfort. nothing at all#i feel like these feelings resurface every couple months and i start isolating myself from my friends whenever this happens because i feel#so like. burdensome but also unable to accept words of comfort or sympathize w anything that anyone else is going thru. i stop liking#conversing w my friends and i just feel too drained to talk to anyone because all that is on my mind is death#i had to delete a bunch of social media + messaging apps from my phone / mute conversations + turn dnd on constantly because i just. i just.#i literally just cant and i wish i could and i dont feel guilty for needing to take this space because i am familiar w this being one of my#needs and also ik i am going thru something insanely traumatic atm and like nobody can judge me or make me feel guilty for what my needs are#at the moment. i used to feel guilty abt this but tbh i dont even have the energy anymore. this is just how i am#like i dont even have the ability to explain to people what the situation is or how dire it is. my sister and i are sure that this is it#but even if this isnt it it will only be a matter of time. he hasnt responded well to a single treatment and we have exhausted everything#so now its just a waiting game. if it doesnt happen in a few months it will just happen a few months after that. there is no battle to even#fight anymore. this is just it#fuck. oh my god#there was more i wanted to say but i started thinking abt it and i feel like im going to have a panic attack so never mind. ummm#okay… anyways!#woozi eating lettuce dot gif#journal
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mya-valentine · 14 days ago
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Headcanon: The Harbingers With an Naive S/O
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Pierro
As the leader of the Harbingers, Pierro takes his role seriously, and when he realizes how naive you are, his protective instincts kick in. He often shields you from the darker side of Fatui affairs, keeping you in the dark about the more ruthless aspects of their operations. He wants to preserve your innocence as much as possible, which is a rare sentiment from someone as cold and calculated as Pierro.
While Pierro is usually stern and emotionless, your purity softens him. He finds solace in your presence and enjoys your simple outlook on life. It reminds him of a time before he became the harbinger of destruction and chaos.
Pierro knows that you're easy to mislead, so he's always careful with his words. He makes sure to explain things in a way that won’t overwhelm you, but also so you don’t ask too many dangerous questions. You remain blissfully unaware of just how much blood is on his hands, and Pierro likes it that way.
Pierro would never admit it, but he goes out of his way to ensure you’re kept far from harm, even if you’re unaware of it. He’s constantly working behind the scenes to remove threats before they even come close to you. His protectiveness is subtle, often disguised as him merely sending you off on errands or encouraging you to remain in safer areas.
Your innocence reminds Pierro of a time long ago when he might have been less cynical, less ruthless. Though he’s a deeply strategic man, your presence softens his edges, even if only in private moments. Your belief in the good of the world makes him occasionally question if he could have chosen a different path.
Capitano
Capitano, a figure known for his strength and valor, finds your innocence strangely calming. His life is filled with battle and bloodshed, so your pure and untainted perspective offers him a rare moment of tranquility. When he’s with you, he can leave behind his role as a warrior and simply enjoy a more peaceful existence.
Capitano doesn’t need to say much to keep you safe. His mere presence is enough to intimidate anyone who might seek to harm or take advantage of you. He’s always watching over you, even when you think you’re alone. You might not understand why people give you a wide berth when Capitano is around, but that’s exactly how he prefers it.
Despite his intimidating appearance and harsh exterior, Capitano is surprisingly gentle with you. He’ll place a hand on your shoulder or give you a small nod of approval, small gestures that show he cares without overwhelming you. He knows you’re fragile in comparison to the life he leads, so he treats you like something precious and irreplaceable.
Capitano sees you as something pure that he must protect at all costs. Though he’s known for his unwavering dedication to his duties, your presence gives him a deeper sense of purpose. He fights not just for the Fatui but to create a world where someone like you can remain safe and untouched by cruelty.
Anyone who dares try to manipulate or harm you faces Capitano’s full wrath. He is known for his brutal efficiency in battle, but when it comes to you, that intensity amplifies tenfold. He won’t let anyone or anything threaten your safety or corrupt your innocence. You’re like a rare treasure in his life, one he will guard until his last breath.
Dottore
Dottore is utterly fascinated by your innocence, finding it almost incomprehensible. He often prods you with curious questions, eager to see how your mind works compared to his twisted genius. To him, you’re an anomaly—someone who hasn’t yet been tainted by the world.
Though Dottore cares for you in his own twisted way, he can’t help but toy with your naivety. He might tell you wild, untrue stories just to see your reactions, reveling in how easily you believe him. Despite this, he’s careful not to push you too far; he enjoys having you around too much to truly break your spirit.
While Dottore is amused by your innocence, he’s also fiercely possessive. He doesn’t want anyone else corrupting you, so he’ll make sure you’re always by his side or at least under his watchful eye. If another Harbinger tries to take advantage of your naivety, Dottore’s wrath is swift and brutal.
Dottore, being a man of science and curiosity, is constantly intrigued by your innocence. He wonders how someone like you could exist in such a ruthless world, and sometimes he treats your naivety like an experiment—observing how you react to various stimuli and situations. Though his fascination might be clinical, there’s an underlying protectiveness as well.
Despite his twisted nature, Dottore secretly cares about you. He might create devices or gadgets designed to keep you safe or unaware of the more gruesome aspects of his work. You might think his inventions are just fun toys or tools to make your life easier, but in reality, they’re carefully crafted to protect you from the darker side of his experiments.
Scaramouche
Scaramouche is initially confused by your innocence. Part of him finds it frustrating—he’s used to manipulation and cruelty, so your pure-hearted nature baffles him. However, over time, he begins to appreciate it. You represent something he can never have: a sense of untainted goodness.
Scaramouche, who is typically sharp-tongued and cynical, finds your naivety both amusing and endearing. He’s quick to mock you playfully, throwing sarcastic remarks your way when you fail to notice something obvious or overlook the harshness of reality. Yet, despite his teasing, he never crosses a line. There’s a strange softness in the way he treats you compared to others, even if he tries to hide it.
Despite his cruel nature, Scaramouche becomes fiercely protective of your innocence. He views it as something precious—something no one has the right to taint. While he may mock your naivety, he won’t let anyone else take advantage of it. If someone attempts to manipulate or hurt you, Scaramouche’s wrath is quick and brutal, leaving no doubt that you are under his protection.
Your innocence frustrates Scaramouche at times because it represents everything he’s lost—trust, hope, and belief in others. Yet, that same purity draws him in, creating a tension within himself. He doesn’t want you to lose your naive worldview, but at the same time, he’s terrified that one day, the cruel world will break you as it did him.
Scaramouche isn’t someone who shows open affection, especially not in front of others. However, when you’re alone, he’ll allow himself small gestures—a hand placed gently on your head or a brief moment where he’ll sit close to you in silence. It’s his way of saying that he cares, even if he’ll never say it outright.
Pantalone
Pantalone adores your naive nature, finding it endearing in a world where everyone else is driven by greed and ambition. He uses his vast wealth to spoil you, gifting you extravagant things just to see the look of pure joy on your face. He never lets you worry about the cost or where the money comes from—it’s all part of his plan to keep you blissfully unaware.
While Pantalone manipulates nearly everyone around him, he goes out of his way to shield you from the corruption that runs deep in the Fatui. He sees you as something too delicate for the brutal world he operates in and prefers to keep you in a bubble of luxury and comfort, far from the cutthroat politics of the Harbingers.
Pantalone ensures that no harm comes to you by leveraging his financial influence. If anyone dares to target you or tries to take advantage of your innocence, they quickly find themselves on the wrong side of his wealth and power. He’ll ruin them financially and ensure that their downfall is swift and complete.
Pantalone is a master manipulator, but when it comes to you, he keeps his darker dealings carefully hidden. He never wants you to see the ruthless side of his business, believing you’re better off living in blissful ignorance. He’ll go to great lengths to ensure you remain unaware of the moral gray areas he operates in.
Pantalone takes great joy in watching you light up when he surprises you with something extravagant, whether it’s a beautiful piece of jewelry or a rare collectible. He views your happiness as a reflection of his success, and he goes out of his way to provide for you in every possible way. Your innocent joy is one of the few things that can genuinely warm his cold heart.
Childe
Childe finds your naivety absolutely adorable. He loves to tease you, often making exaggerated claims or telling you about his exploits in a way that makes you blush or gasp in surprise. However, underneath all that playfulness, Childe is fiercely protective of you. He won’t let anyone else toy with your innocence.
Childe thrives on showing off in front of you, especially when he knows you’re easily impressed. Whether it’s through his combat prowess or his adventurous stories, he loves the way your eyes widen in awe. Your naive admiration boosts his ego, and he’s more than happy to be your hero.
Despite his love for battle, Childe would never want to expose you to the darker aspects of his life. He’ll always keep you far from the frontlines, ensuring you only see the more exciting, less dangerous parts of his adventures. In his eyes, you’re someone worth protecting at all costs, and he won’t let anything or anyone change that.
Childe finds it endlessly amusing when you ask innocent, naive questions about his work or the Fatui’s operations. He’ll often give you simplified answers, sometimes throwing in a bit of embellishment to make himself seem even more impressive. Your wide-eyed belief in his stories makes him feel like the most important person in the world.
While Childe’s real work is far too dangerous for you, he often takes you on smaller, safer "adventures." These outings are carefully curated so you never see the true violence of his life, but they’re thrilling enough to keep you entertained. Whether it’s exploring a quiet forest or pretending to train with him, Childe enjoys showing off his skills in a way that keeps you feeling safe and awed by him.
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Masterlist
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citricacidprince · 2 months ago
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doodle request on relativity falls - id love 2 see ur vers of fiddleford and where he stands in the story!! :DD
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Of course!!!
Oh Fiddleford, my dearly beloved Fiddleford, he’s just a little guy who makes machines that hurt people and I love him for that <3
In my Relativity Falls AU Fidds is a kid from Tennessee who moved to Gravity Falls pretty recently, like in the past year.
He’s still really handy with mechanics, like a genuine prodigy, but he’s so riddled with anxiety that it’s a battle to get him to share any of his projects outside of his robots he makes to get revenge on those who wrong him!
He really does like hanging out with the twins, he thinks their both fun and is very happy they actually wanna be his friend, however their constant ‘Getting into weird and magical trouble’ is so stress inducing to him he’s going to get gray hairs by the time he’s 20 (Dipper can relate-)
I don’t have a lot of things solidified for him yet, other than I want him to be EXTREMELY tempted to use the Memory Gun on himself, to forget a lot of the horrifying things he’s seen over the summer, but is stopped by Candy (The inventor of the gun) at the last second. You see, Candy didn’t spiral like Fiddleford did in the show, she only ever used the memory gun on herself once. However, she used it to erase every bit of knowledge she ever learned about the weirdness of Gravity Falls, and Candy had spent YEARS of her life dedicated to it, she was arguably more curious about the weirdness of Gravity Falls than Dipper was. He was only curious out of morbid curiosity, she saw the whimsy and wonder in it all. So when Candy used the Memory Gun on herself and erased such a huge chunk of her memory it cracked her psyche, not leaving her a rambling and insane kook like Fiddleford, but more oblivious and unaware to everything around her while also being a liiiiittle ‘not all there’.
Between the two of them Candy definitely got the better end of the stick. Fiddleford was deemed insane and used the memory gun over and over again until he couldn’t even remember who he was anyone, his life falling apart. Candy used it once to make sure no one could ever use her research to hurt anyone after she learned her lab partner was literally working with an otherworldly being who could go into peoples heads and it cracked her mind because her research WAS her entire life, leaving her oblivious and dazed. However, Candy managed to find people who cared about her and were willing to care for her despite this. Sure she lives in the dump, but whenever a storm comes through or she gets hungry she can always go up to her friends Grenda, Mabel Mason, or even Pacifica at some point to help her out. Fiddleford had no one.
I want Candy to give Fidds a little pep talk, convincing him that despite those memories being scary and uncomfortable he’s going to need all of them because they’re what will help him grow as a person. He can’t just pick and choose which ones he wants because one day he’ll realize he doesn’t have any memories left to burn.
Maybe there could even be a moment where Fidds tries to use the memory gun on Candy because he convinces himself he NEEDS it and doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of hating choice, but freezes up when he realizes it does work on her anymore. The realizes what he just did because of how badly he wanted that memory gun seconds after he did it and starts to tremble, dropping the memory gun as he begins uncontrollably crying that he ‘didn’t mean it’ and he’s sorry. Candy wouldn’t hold it against him, just seeing a scared kid who was so desperate to make the mind numbing anxiety that he would do anything, and she’d hug him and tell him it’s okay before leading him back to the rest of the group.
Fiddleford makes me soooo ill I love him <3
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 month ago
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Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 2
Please read Part 1 first! G/N. 4.6k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists
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As far as first impressions go, yours went terribly. Gun can count on no hands the amount of people that have spoken to him like you did and lived to tell the tale.
Make no mistake, the sum total of which is zero. Zero spoke to him like that and lived to tell the tale.
It's like you have no manners and absolutely no sense of self-preservation.
But, he figures, he's finally doing his GED after the whole murderous stint and juvie and light dabbling in gang wars. Maiming a fellow classmate on the first day would leave an even worse first impression with the rest of the class than yours with him, therefore he should really try to behave himself.
Besides, he would never hear the end of it from Goo if he dropped out, or worse got kicked out, so he picked his battles and took your insults as best he could. 
Somehow miraculously managed to hold back from reaching across the screen to give you a well deserved ass whooping when you asked him if he was on the verge of a mid-life crisis. He schooled his face and took a drag of his cigarette instead.
At least, if nothing else, you're entertaining.
You also reminded him that small talk was a thing when you asked what he liked to do for fun. He couldn't remember the last time anyone asked, if anyone even did, although you don't really make this sort of conversation in his line of work and it is hard for Gun to find time to make chit chat with someone as he's usually the one brutally assaulting them in a fight.
And he had such good intentions with enrolling in school again so why not tell you he likes gaming. 
That's a perfectly Normal hobby, right? 
Even as he says those words, they stick in his throat like he's confessing something shameful and it comes out strangled and strange.
He moves on to more familiar territory by reframing his bloodlust as training and martial arts, which also sounds very Normal to Gun's ears.
A few more things that he can barely remember are mentioned to present himself as a very Normal individual and he isn't embarrassed to admit to himself he's pleased with how this has gone.
After all, the majority of his working day is spent with Goo and Goo is, to put it politely, an unhinged dipshit, and their conversations usually also have that kind of vibe. Gun is aware enough to watch his tongue in this conversation with you, and the fact you haven't looked terrified or called the police can only work in his favour.
What piqued his curiosity most of all though, is your threat to kick his ass.
(On Tekken, but still.)
So much confidence in your own ability, so much faith in your skills.
(On Tekken, but still.)
Alas, that night he finds out it's misplaced and you have severely overestimated himself and/or underestimated him.
But still. 
He remains curious about you.
You show absolutely no fear, no ulterior motive, no nothing, in the way you speak to him and seem to have latched on to him rather than anyone else in the class, and Gun is... 
Charmed.
He finds you oddly endearing.
Then when he sees the back of your head as he makes his way into the classroom for the first time and decides to sit next to you, the way you blatantly check him out doesn't hurt either.
People ogling Gun isn't anything new, but what is new is how much he likes it from you.
He makes up his mind to keep his seat next to you. Even if your gaze does linger a moment too long on his hair and makes him wonder if he used enough gel on it when he styled it that morning.
And although you caught him doodling and insult his masterpieces repeatedly - you also balanced it out by helping him with Literature, which truth be told, he is extremely grateful for. He forgives your missteps and your teasing.
Over time, Gun finds that he likes your company. Traits that would be annoying as shit with other people he finds sweet with you, including your unrefined taste in coffee.
As a bonus, you also don't balk at the tidbits of his life he shares. In fact it should really be a little troubling how grey your morals are, how easily you take it in stride for someone that seems like a normal well-adjusted(ish) civilian.
All in all, this never happens. Ever.
Never has anyone held his attention like you do, and for him to test the waters like he has done.
Gun likes to think he has good judgement, takes very calculated risks. This, he decides, is worth pursuing. Exploring.
With not so much a leap of faith but maybe just a tiny hop, Gun opens up his home to you.
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You think you're in love with Gun Park.
This realisation hits you at 5am, when you're lying in his bed and he has done the gentlemanly thing of taking the sofa. It hits you because only a few hours ago, he had pulled you into his lap, looked at you and held you so tenderly then didn't kiss you.
The fact that he hadn't kissed you, and you're in love with a very questionable person sends you into a mental crisis.
Fuck.
He's secretive enough, letting you in on various elements of his life and you manage to piece together that he can only be up to no good.
There's no shades of grey in his life, only copious amounts of crimson from bloodshed, and a twisted sense of morals and principles he lives by.
You know by now he hangs around far too much with someone called Goo, who sounds like the personification of a headache and annoys him to no end but also seems to be the only friend he has. Speaks too highly of a Charles that you know is shady despite never having met the guy. There's also an Eli that he mentions like he's the one that got away.
You can live with all of that and the questionable amount of hair product he uses.
What you are in fact struggling to get to grips with is:
This man lives in a junkyard. Like some kind of violent, sexy raccoon.
A voice in your head that sounds scarily like your mother, lectures you about prospects and picking a man with no future.
Well, for one - he's back in school.
See mom, you're wrong.
He also seems to do very well for himself despite literally living amongst trash (you handwave away his blood money and unscrupulous methods to earn said money) so that's another point for Gun.
And what sort of person, who lives between piles of scrap metal and discarded appliances, has such a luxurious bed.
You're sure the bedding thread count is in the thousands. Instead of researching the cure to cancer or how to travel faster than light, scientists have researched the comfiest mattress known to man and has created this that you're currently lying on.
So maybe this violent sexy raccoon is actually a prize.
Regardless.
You seem to have hitched yourself quite willingly to this wagon and now your biggest issue, that leaves you tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning, is still-
Why the fuck didn't he kiss you.
And how could he, after sharing such a sweet moment, push you off his lap and kick your ass on Tekken for 5 straight rounds.
What a bastard.
.
.
At some point you must have drifted off to sleep and you awake to the smell of deliciousness.
Something is being fried and you melt thinking your raccoon king is cooking breakfast for you. Who knew he was this sweet and thoughtful.
What is even better though, somewhat masked by the sizzling, is if you listen hard enough, you think Gun might even be humming. Even the perfect bed can't keep you from pressing your ear up against the bedroom door when you connect the dots that he is humming a popular K-Pop song that you have listened to on loop 50 times the week prior.
You yank open the door with force, "A-ha!" and point in his direction, gleeful at catching him doing something so un-Gun like.
Gun, in the middle of plating 2 omelettes, whips his head to you and stills, looking like a deer caught in headlights or a raccoon caught in headlights, rather.
You ask him, with a shit eating grin,  if he's a big fan of the K-Pop group but it drops at his lack of reaction when he just shrugs and responds simply with a yes.
Damnit.
Of course you know it's not really anything to be ashamed of but it's so unexpected from Gun, that would it kill him to blush a little or act a little abashed? You expected something at least a little entertaining from his initial surprise, but you suppose anyone would act like that if a deranged house guest accosted them first thing in the morning after they so kindly made breakfast too.
As a consolation, after the let-down, you double take when you realise Gun had been cooking topless and remains topless this entire time.
In all his muscled glory. Pecs and abs and everything. Delicious broad shoulders and an enticing light trail of hair from below his belly button and stretching down, down, down into his sweatpants.
You gulp, trying to calm yourself down. You know you are staring so so obviously but you can't find it in yourself to look away.
Gun clears his throat as if to say my eyes are up here, and hands you a plate.
.
.
While you still have self control and before you outstay your welcome, you say bye to Gun after breakfast mentioning you have some errands to run.
It's a poor excuse but you didn't taste a bite of that omelette, brain too fixated on the man seated opposite and wondering if what he's hiding in his trousers matches the energy he gives off.
He offers to take you home and you insist on walking by yourself. You reason to yourself the fresh air after such a heady night and all the over excitement from this morning would do you good.
You say your goodbyes at his door, him leaning against the doorway, still unbearably tantalisingly shirtless and enough to distract you from the junkyard setting, with his arms folded and a smirk on his face as you stand there-
Standing and waiting and expecting.
You're pretty sure Gun wants to kiss you. There's a challenge in his eyes and you know he is teasing you.
The fact that you stared at him before like a slack-jawed moron also indicates full well what you would like him to do.
A goodbye kiss isn't too much to ask for (not that you're going to ask) but he continues to also lean and wait and smirk shirtlessly and god, this is the most awful hair-pulling frustrating game of chicken you have played.
For a moment you consider yanking him down and kissing him, hard and desperate, and making your way back inside to the most comfortable bed that has ever existed. For an even briefer moment you consider biting his pec and leaving a ring of teeth marks.
In the end, you can only muster "bye then," and to your dismay, your voice comes out whiny.
There's no hiding your disappointment.
Gun’s smirk grows wider at your tone and he relents and gives a peace offering in the form of a kiss on your cheek.
He pulls you into his body, arm wrapped around your waist and he dips down, grazes his lips featherlight to your cheek.
It's chaste. Impossibly tender and surprisingly sweet.
Damn.
You forget how to breathe and you feel like you're on fire as he murmurs bye into your ear. Later, you'll chastise yourself for letting Gun affect you like this with something so innocent.
You untangle from him and feel your legs wobble when you step off the porch and make your way back home.
Gun chuckles but you don't hear it.
You don't form a coherent thought again until that evening, when Gun beats you on Tekken and in a fit of rage and frustration, you finally break your controller.
.
.
To make things fair, Gun’s dislike of Literature is offset by how knowledgeable he is with Biology.
The human body, to be precise, and alarmingly so. Maybe serial killer levels of knowledge, with how much he knows about organs and muscles and tissues and everything in between.
He explains that it's useful for training, as if that's any explanation at all for his extensive knowledge. However, you've seen his body and heard enough about his past and yes, including his actual training, to realise that it does make sense in a way and you let it go.
Well.
Maybe you would have fought it a bit harder if you yourself was any good with biology but you're not. If he's great at it because he's a serial killer, then fortune favours the bold and you might as well take advantage of it.
Gun is a very very good teacher, which you did not predict and in a way you didn't expect.
His jaw is tense and the grip on the textbook tightens after you get the answer wrong for the 15th time and when you think he's about to whack you with said textbook, he closes his eyes and counts to ten.
When he opens them again, he tries another method with you. Then another. And another.
Truly, you did not think he had this sort of tolerance or patience.
He explains things simply and calmly (though you've noticed he has started to grit out his words). Unfortunately you still find all this theory hard to wrap your head around.
"Are you going to hit me?" You ask.
"Yes," Gun says though he doesn't. He looks more like he's going to ram his head through a wall. Neither happens and he continues to work through the textbook with you.
Hours later, it clicks.
You feel something of a genius even if Gun’s hair resembles a bird nest from the amount of time he has ran his fingers through in exasperation.
.
.
After finding out that you broke your controller, Gun buys you a new one immediately.
He's very generous and kind, you think, and it may be the first time in existence anyone has considered Gun as kind. 
Until you realise he has other reasons for doing so.
That night, and for several nights after too, Gun is merciless when he KOs you. Each match is shorter than the previous.
You register this is payback for the biology stint. It's got to be.
.
.
Nevertheless, because you're the bigger person and you take the defeats on the chin, as thanks and in an almost mirror image of Gun repaying your Literature help, you suggest taking him out for a coffee.
Getting a coffee to-go and hand delivering it would be much easier, but you can't bring yourself to order an espresso for someone even if it is their drink of choice.
You take him to one of your favourite coffeehouses. Somewhere much less lavish than the one he frequents and much more agreeable to your meagre pockets although the coffee is just as good.
"Two espressos," Gun says at the counter.
"One," you cut in firmly, holding yourself back from gagging. If you have to pay for it, you won't be drinking that bitter sludge. You rattle off your usual: a monstrosity made with double-digit syrup pumps and whipped cream and Gun flinches in your periphery.
Despite your insistence, he beats you to the punch and pays for the order anyway. Not before adding a jab that your coffee, if you can even call it a coffee, is the worst thing he has ever had the misfortune to spend money on.
"Try it," you offer, when your drink is in your hand and Gun watches every sip with mounting horror.
"No," His mouth is pressed into a thin line and he looks like he has half a mind to knock the cup out of your hand. He refrains, clenches his knuckles and rests them on his knee.
He closes his eyes and counts to ten.
You watch him, heartily enjoying your sugary drink and sucking noisily on the straw. He twitches and starts counting from one again. You feel a surge of affection.
.
.
Without any other plans, both of you amble together through the quiet streets. You window-shop as Gun smokes next to you and attempts to buy everything that you set your eye on.
You tell him thanks but no thanks and continue to look at pretty trinkets and funky decor. In the glass reflection, you notice Gun fondly looking at you.
"Hi," you smile, turning towards him. He looks more handsome than ever in the sunlight. You don't even mind the amount of gel in his hair.
"Hey," he says, low and hushed. He steps towards you, leaving only a hairbreadth of air in between and tips your chin up to face him with his fingers.
You notice his pupils are blown wide, flickering down to your lips. Gun dips down at the same time you press up onto your tiptoes, and you feel his chest against yours, his other arm winding around your waist, breath fanning over your skin-
This is it, you think, finally.
This, sadly, is not it.
"GUN!" you hear a voice screeching. You both tear your attention from each other to the shrill noise.
A blonde guy in the loudest suit you have ever cast your eyes upon is waving manically in your direction.
"Do you know him?" you ask and Gun's lips are thinner than you have ever seen.
"No."
"GUN!"  The blonde yells again and you raise an eyebrow at your companion.
His face looks pained as he tells you that is Goo Kim and when you ask if you both should go over and say hi, he snaps back absolutely not with a frown.
"Let's go," he says, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you in the opposite direction. Behind you, you hear cackling and Gun hastens his footsteps as if being chased by a deranged spirit.
You don't see the blonde again for the rest of the day although Gun’s phone seems to be going off every other minute. 
The moment you had is never quite recaptured. You can't bring yourself to mind too much though, as Gun never lets go of your hand.
And everytime he catches you smiling at your hand in his, he gives you a light squeeze and returns the smile.
.
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If you thought school would be all cutesy and you would take turns in helping each other with topics you're stuck on, you're wrong.
Turns out, both you and Gun are equally bad at math.
You watch, face blank, at your screen as the teacher explains algebra. At least, you think that’s what the jumble of numbers and letters are because your ears refuse to make sense of the words.
You search the monitor for Gun to see how well he is faring and find him staring dead-eyed.
Not very, then.
In class, you see Gun's textbook with some attempt at notes in the margin before devolving into his lewd stick men doodles that he still insists are fighting stances.
"You shouldn't cover your page in smut. No wonder you're bad at this." You tease.
He doesn't look at you, doesn't rise to the bait. Simply rebukes, "Your book is blank and you're still shit."
"Asshole," you hiss and his dead eyed stare is replaced with a smirk.
.
.
As it happens, Gun can be very convincing when he wants to be.
A fellow student trails behind Gun in the library, and offers to help you and him out with your lack of mathematical comprehension.
You ignore that the student seems absolutely terrified and keeps giving fearful glances to Gun as he peers at them menacingly.
So what if the convincing involves some light threats of bodily harm or whatever Gun has so charmingly offered if that means you will pass. Didn’t you already establish that you have questionable morals? You’re too set in your ways and there's no point fighting it now.
Neither of you get any further after a few hours, and it doesn't help that the student gets more and more nervous each time you and Gun get a question wrong.
Explanations devolve into stammering and barely strung together sentences as if their life depends on you both understanding basic algebra.
They let out a petrified squeak when Gun snaps his fifth pen in half, noticing he has no more pens and may very well come for their neck.
Maybe he will.
"Leave." Gun commands, pinching his nose bridge when he realises this is futile and the student scarpers off.
"I hate this," You say, dejected, and you watch Gun close his eyes and quietly count to ten.
.
.
As it happens, Gun can be very resourceful too when he wants to be.
The following week, the teacher trails behind Gun to the library and offers to help you both out.
He seems equally afraid, eyes flickering over to Gun, and you choose not to focus on that, instead smiling brightly at his kindness.
The teacher, gripping the textbook white knuckled, breathes a sigh of relief hours later when both you and Gun start to answer the questions correctly and with accurate workings too.
In your mind, you have both learnt something and he has avoided an ass kicking so you're all winners here.
Nevermind the fact that Gun would have been the one handing out the ass kicking. There's no need to focus on such details.
.
.
From this distance, you find a figure chain smoking again. You’re now so familiar with his body language, with his mannerisms, that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s Gun and clearly there’s also something playing on his mind.
He sucks a cigarette down to the filter and lights up another one immediately after.
You worry about the poor state of his lungs and if he looks like this when he’s only 20, then mid-life will actually hit him hard. His body must be running on fumes. He really should cut down on the cigarettes and the caffeine and get a better night's sleep instead of staying up all night gaming. 
Not that you’re one to talk.
Perhaps it’s due to how he’s on alert for your presence like you are to him, his eyes snap to yours the moment you start to make your way over.
“You ok?” you ask and he gives you a funny look. It’s the same look whenever you express interest in his well being, or any general interest in him at all, and you think poor guy.
“Fine,” he responds, finishing off another cigarette and flicking it onto the floor.
And another thing, he really shouldn’t litter.
You don’t hesitate to tell him so, and as your tongue unravels, you start to also mention the smoking and his health and how you’re worried about him. Yes he clearly works out but all the cigarettes and lack of sleep will take a toll on him eventually.
Gun’s eyebrows climb into his hairline at your words. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that what was supposed to come across as caring is very much coming across as a lecture though you can’t seem to stop.
As you begin to mention the obscene amount of gel he wears in his hair, his expression turns from bemused to sour and he cuts you off.
“You can nag me at mine over Tekken.”
“I’m not nagging-” you start, and then you abruptly stop as your brain kicks into gear and it sinks in that he has invited you over to his again.
Oh right. His.
The junkyard. 
At some point, you’ve forgotten that you’re in love with the King of Raccoons. That this guy willingly lives in a shack in the middle of, what you can only politely describe as, garbage, and you wonder how your life has come to this.
Gun is patient as he waits for your answer and his eyes are warm. It doesn’t sway you though. You want to counter with No. Why don’t you come to mine then you remember his beautiful bed. Yes you’re getting ahead of yourself but if there’s a chance you get to experience it again, sure. You will come to his raccoon den.
You agree and he gives you the softest smile you have ever seen.
.
.
“Shit,” you say, crestfallen and hanging limply.
“Shouldn’t you be used to losing by now?” comes Gun’s voice and you want to bounce the controller off his head.
“Shut up.”
“Your combinations are weak and poorly timed. You don’t understand how to use your characters or their advantages and you have no idea how to counter my moves.”
As the killing blow to your ego and pride, he adds, "You won that time because I let you."
A part of you already knew that yet you still stare at him agape at his audacity. Sitting, manspreading, on his armchair while he casually assassinates your skills.
“I’m not wrong.” He says with a smirk.
“Shut up,” you repeat, standing up.
“I can train you.”
“Shut up,” you stalk over to him.
“Or what?” He sits back to look up at you as you hover over him. Chin lifted defiantly and his eyes daring.
“This,” you snap, gripping him by the front of his shirt and pulling him towards you. You’re sick of losing and you’re sick of waiting. 
You clash your lips together and feel Gun exhale sharply in surprise at your actions. He tenses, for a split second, before he tugs you into his lap and your legs straddle his thighs. His hand reaches under your top, sliding their way across your skin as you grind down. 
“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling away, lips glossy and gazing at you half-lidded. 
He leans back to look at you properly, removing his hand as you subconsciously chase his touch, then with gentle hands, he cups your face and grazes his thumb over your cheek.
The TV screen illuminates his features, light reflecting in his eyes and you find something you only saw an inkling of during that first night, but has grown strong and steady since.
Gun looks at you like he did then -  soft, like you might break. Holds you the same way he had done - tender and precious. 
Only this time, there’s a steeled resolve in his face as he presses your bodies together, capturing your lips against his once more and you melt into his embrace. He’s much more gentle than you were but there’s a hunger and quiet desperation as his tongue swipes over your lips and slips in your mouth.
Your fingers run through his hair, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it soft. All this time there wasn’t too much gel at all.
.
.
Gun wakes up the next morning with you drooling into his collar bone.
You wake up after the best night sleep of your life - wrapped in Gun’s arms and in the most comfortable bed known to man.
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whiskeyskin · 4 months ago
Text
Different kind of Intimacy
Premise: After Astarion's confession at Moonrise, you decide that your usual style of feeding just won't cut it any more.
• Astarion x gn!Tav • Mild rating •
Reader POV, fluff, conversation about boundaries set, sweetness, understanding, softness, Astarion feeding, despite female in the inspo picture no mention of gender, love, security, intimacy, doped out Astarion
2.3k words
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Shoutout to @ladyofthecreed for this beautiful piece of art for @aevallare! How stunning is it? 🥹💜 And thanks to @crepsley for the tag 🙌
This is a little different than my usual smutty style but I saw this picture and felt inspired to write something a little softer for our boy ☺️
•°•°•
"You can feed on me tonight, if you'd like." You offered with a smile.
"I was so hoping you'd say that." He lilted back to you.
You took a breath to speak again and stopped.
"Yes, my sweet. What is it?" He questioned, with a curious tilt of his head.
After the incident with the Drow at Moonrise yesterday, Astarion had confessed some deep feelings and troubles he'd had.
After he'd admitted his growing feelings for you, despite it starting out as a manipulation, he'd stated very plainly that he didn't want anyone to think of him in terms of sex but that he still wanted to be with you.
So, you'd suggested that you'd become friends first, instead of lovers. That you would still be together but wouldn't have sex until he was ready, if he ever would be.
He'd obviously joked and tried to lessen the mood with a flippant remark but you'd learned him well enough to see he was appreciative of the gesture.
You'd pulled him into a hug, and after his inital shock, he'd held on so tightly he had been reluctant to let go.
He'd offered his hand to hold yours and a silent bond was made between you.
You'd been thinking on this development between you this last day since your conversation together. Pondering on ways to make him more comfortable, to give him more autonomy within the relationship.
Astarion had been very sweet and attentive throughout the day. Like something had settled within him, like something had slotted into place.
He'd stuck very close by you, while carefully adventuring through the perilous Shadowlands.
During battle he'd taken a more protective and defensive role around you, instead of stealthy and offensive. Several times throughout the day, he had slid his hand within yours and lightly squeezed - completely unprompted - just to feel the warmth of your skin.
He'd also spotted something that would be valuable to you in a fight and gifted it to you; you didn't ask how he'd gotten it, even though you could probably guess.
And now, it was time to settle down for the night, he'd dragged his bedroll to rest next to you. Producing a small potion from his pack, you assumed he was probably already hungry and needed to feed, hence your invitation, but you needed to discuss this first.
"I've been thinking, about what you said last night, about not thinking of you in terms of sex," you started, his face pulled into an unsure expression, "It's nothing bad, it's that I've been thinking about how you feed. It's quite, sexually charged. Especially the way you feed. It's urgent and rough and-"
"-Rough? I-I thought I was being gentle. You've not said anything since that first night. I-" He sounded hurt, afraid he'd been causing you pain. You hushed his worries.
"That's not what I meant, I'm not making an issue of it, I promise. It's not something to be sorry for, it hasn't bothered me until now. I thought it was all part and parcel of the experience; foreplay, if you will?" You shrugged.
"I mean, you'd feed, get hard and then we'd usually fuck. But now I believe we need to re-think our approach." You explained further.
"It's not that having sex wasn't out of desire for you. It's-it's complicated to explain," he signed with a furrowed brow.
"I told you, that it's not that I'm not attracted to you, trust me," he smiled wickedly, you shook your head and went to speak but he cut across you to continue, "You are wholly different to ones I've seduced before. This was of my own voilition, for one - although out of necessity as transactional protection but - things have changed. I've changed. You've made me see what I'm capable of. You've.." he paused, swallowing and looking around the vacinity for the right words, "You've encouraged me. Had faith in me. Shown me kindness I've not felt in two centuries. I care for you in a way I thought impossible, but I don't know how to be with someone, without reliving the past.. But I desperately want this to be real, truly real." His claret eyes bore into yours, pleading and sad. You slowly raised your hand to cup the side of this face.
"This is real, just because it's not a sexual relationship, doesn't mean it's not real." You smiled, reassuring his doubts. He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. Your heart squeezed as his cool cheek pressed further into the warmth.
"The act of a vampire feeding on someone has been made inherently sexual. It's been fetishised, and so in turn, has the whole vampire thing. Which works to the vamp's advantage. I can't blame the people for it. Being bitten, being fed on is an intoxicating experience." You couldn't help but shudder at the memories of you both pressed together.
"For me too," He breathed, his neck tensing, "The feeling of feeding has no match."
You smiled softly and sighed, "Like you said, 'There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire'." You both pursed your lips in bitter resignation.
"So, to remedy this, we need to unsexualise it going forward," you continued, "Before feeding was all teeth and rubbing up against each other like animals. Now, it's going to be slow and intimate. Not sexual intimacy, true intimacy."
"It's different to the enemies you drain on the road, or in battle. It's you and me, and that's special. We need to make it special." You smoothed the cool touch of his cheek under your thumb.
He swallowed and sat up, intrigued, "What did you have in mind, my dear?"
You certainly had had some ideas.
"Well, you've tried both of the 'best' places to feed from; the jugular and the femoral," you announced, gesturing to your neck and inner thigh, "But I was thinking of the wrist? It's a pretty neutral place to feed from."
"Sounds reasonable. It's certainly a slower feed than the neck, or thigh." He agreed with a head tilt, "Although they are an awful lot of fun." He said through tilted gaze and a dangerous grin, his hand gliding up your thigh to caress it.
Your stomach flipped from habit, but you squashed it down.
"Stop it," you chastised him with a gentle nose boop. He scrunched his face and let out a small, high chuckle. His hand relented to your knee, thumbing the seam where he'd stitched a hole for you.
"Feeding will be more about taking the time to connect with each other, without sex. It'll be slow, patient.. calming." You let out a long, cleansing breath and blinked slowly, to emphasise the point.
"Well, then. Henceforth, I shall drink from your wrist when you're resting." He gave a tilted nod.
"Um, no. I was going to suggest feeding before sleep. I'd like to be present with you. Truly present with you. Not groggy from sleep, or blissed from sex. I'd like to be with you."
He looked taken aback, but interested, "Alright then.. feeding before rest," he said, testing the idea on his tongue. He seemed to measure it acceptable before asking, "Could I.. request something of you.. while I feed?" He asked, his words measured.
"Of course, darling." You answered enthusiastically, glad for his input.
"Would you.. play with my hair?" He requested, a little sheepishly, "I-I find it. It's not a sexual thing, before I always hated it but.. when you do it-it's.. comforting to me. I-I don't know why."
Your heart swelled and your eyes began to gently fill at the surprisingly sweet request.
"Of course, I will." You smiled, blinking back unexpected tears.
Astarion smiled back and took a faux breath and huffed it out in expectation.
"So, shall we, my dear?" He flourished a hand for you to lie down.
"We shall," you nodded, "How do you wish to do this?"
"Lying down would be fine." He suggested.
"If that's what you'd like." You began unfolding your leg from the crossed position to stretch it before laying down.
"Wait.." he stopped, then looked up through curious eyes, "What about this?" He asked, as he gently laid the side of his head down on your thigh.
You beamed, "That's nice.. wait-" You scooched a little more, "Lay on your back."
He did as he was told and shuffled around so the back of his head lay fully on the cushioning meat of your crossed leg, the other extended alongside his body.
You gazed down at him laying contentedly in your lap, "How's that?" You asked.
He manoeuvred himself to rest more squarely, testing the feeling, which he seemed to agree with.
"Comfortable."
"Which wrist?" You offered both in the air.
"Wrap your arms around, and I'll feed from your non-dominant one."
You leaned down more, rounding your spine so you weren't sat so upright. You cradled his head with your arms and let your wrists hang loose.
Astarion took your hand and wriggled himself within your arm's embrace, then looked up and smiled at you. Your own broadened across your face.
"Is this alright?"
He nodded, paused then crooked a finger at you.
You bent down a little more and he brought his fingers to tenderly grasp your chin and pulled you in for a delicate kiss, barely anything in comparison to others you had, but filled with a warmth and softness that hadn't been there before.
"Thank you." He breathed, "For thinking of this, for respecting my wishes."
The breath was stolen from your lungs and your chest ached. You couldn't deny it, you were in love with him.
You didn't reply, you simply pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Eat up."
He paused again, looking like he was about to say something but decided against it. He took your hand and carefully pulled up the sleeve, before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply.
This was a little ritual he liked to do, like a fine wine; you have to smell the bouquet.
He chastely pecked several times at the thin blue lines on your inner wrist, before slowly sinking his fangs and drinking deeply.
The pain, while still present, was surprisingly minimal. Much less sharp than his usual snapping bite down on your neck, or inner thigh.
You rest your other arm on his chest, but quickly his other hand grasped your hand and placed it on his hair.
You grinned to yourself, "My mistake, sorry dear." You admonished yourself, giggling, while beginning to weave your fingers into his loose curls.
Astarion mumbled against your skin, something sassy no doubt, but it was hushed by the sensation of his hair being twisted between your deft fingers.
He moaned into your wrist; it wasn't with reverent pleasure, it was in contentment.. ease..
You stared down at the beautiful pale Elf laying in your lap, feeding gently on your life force. His ears were lightly wiggling as he drank, latched onto skin.
You stifled a laugh, he was like a kitten nursing milk. It was too adorable. Of course, you'd never seen this angle to witness it before. It was beyond endearing.
He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed, slowly drinking his fill of your blood. His body language relaxed, instead of poised to pounce. The pace of his pulls against your wrist laboured and suckling.
Seeing him like this, calm and steady, instead of scared and jittering, unlocked a compartment of your heart you'd fervently kept closed off from the world.
Gods, you loved him.
You loved him so much you ached.
Your heart physically panged to see him so blissfully unbothered and relaxed.
You brushed his hair out of his face, and twirled it between your fingers. You smoothed his locks like petting a contented animal, and wove fingertips under the length, to massage the base of his skull.
Each movement illiciting a gratified sigh, his body sinking lower and lower into your lap.
After a while, your head started to feel woozy and your extremities were starting to go cold and numb.
"Astarion?" You whispered, gently rubbing your hand on his chest and tapping twice with your peace fingers, "That's enough, love."
He stirred, dazed from feeding. He clamped his two fingers on the puncture marks, as you reached for the healing potion from his pack to pour over them. A small drizzle and the marks were healed.
You took a steading breath and swigged the rest down to help with restoration of blood before a spell from Shadowheart in the morning.
Stoppering the empty bottle and placing it on the ground, Astarion's weight still lay heavy on your lap.
His lips and teeth dyed the colour of you, as he smiled dopily, eyes remaining closed.
You sat with him in the moment, returning to weave his white curls between your fingers. The vague warmth of your blood coarsing through him transferring back to you through skin contact.
Astarion let out a serene and easy sigh, his eyes heavy as he tried to open them.
"That felt.. very different." He whispered, almost like he was breathless.
You kissed your fingers that waited on his chest and pressed them to his temple. He kissed the air back at you, body still heavy and exhausted.
"I don't know how to describe it. My body feels heavy, but light.."
The light pulse of your blood through his dead veins was present again under the pads of your fingers.
"I assume this new feeding technique is a success then, dove? You inquired, keeping your voice low.
Astarion swallowed thickly, the stain of blood still on his teeth. He licked his lips lethargicly, "Most certainly. I feel.. completely.. utterly.. totally.."
"I hope the end of this sentence is a good one." You teased at his lack of composure.
He let out a sharp exhale of amusement through his nose, "It is.." he muttered.
You smoothed the line of his jaw, careful to not touch his sensitive ears. You smiled at the recent memory of them twitching as he fed.
"Did you know your ears wiggle up and down when you feed?" You asked in soft merriment.
"I did not.." he replied, flexing his eyebrows slowly.
"It's very cute."
"I am not cute." He tried to exert, with not much conviction, "I am a terrible creature of the night, feeding on helpless victims. I am a monster. I am not cute." He posited in feigned outrage.
You gazed down at the soft, tortured, beautiful soul in front of you and quickly blinked back the tears that swelled.
"No, you're not my love.. and I promise one day you'll see yourself the way I see you." You beamed at him.
Astarion squeezed your had three times, you repeat it back. You take a shaking breath in and blow it out, smiling.
A different kind of intimacy.
•°•°•
Yo.. down here.. fancy some more? 👀
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often-daydreaming · 2 months ago
Text
Sanctuary
Buzz...
Buzz...
Buzz...
'Hel-' 'I told you I was okay mom, you need to stop texting me so much.' Danny? 'I'm still at the library near Nightingale Drive but I promise I'll be home soon.'
Dinah was out of her chair and hurrying towards the nearest teleporter before he could finish speaking and inadvertently startling a few nearby heroes as she pushed past them.
'Dinah?'
'Dinah, what's happening.' Oliver called out when he noticed her leaving.
'Danny, a kid I've been mentoring just called using one of the codewords we came up with for emergencies.' And it must have been bad if Danny was calling her this late at night but at least he was using the phone she got him so it only took a few seconds to pull up his location through the built in tracker.
Huh...
What in the world was Danny doing in Star City?
It didn't matter. Not right now. She'd ask later but for now she was busy punching in the right coordinates while Oliver ran to grab his own gear.
-_- -_- -_-
It didn't take long to find him. The kid, Dinah's boy was hiding in a coffee shop a few blocks away from the library he was using for his cover story so Oliver stayed back for now and watched from his hiding spot on a nearby rooftop as Dinah hurried into the shop playing up the role of a worried mom.
She was good at it.
Nobody gave her a second glance as she pulled the kid into a hug while muttering soft reassurance that doubled as codewords. He knew some of it meant danger and alone but he was too far away to make anything else out and Dinah angled the kid in a way that kept him and anyone else watching from reading their lips.
And he got it.
He really did.
From his bloodshot eyes to the sway in his every other step it was obvious from just a glance that the kid was dead on his feet. He'd more than likely been running for a while now and was one soft breeze away from collapsing so the last thing he needed was a complete stranger coming out of nowhere and questioning him but that still left Oliver with a dozen different questions as he listened to Roy going over everything they could dig up on such short notice which wasn't much.
It looked like somebody had gone through a lot of trouble to erase Amity Park's existence but a few things managed to get through like news covering the Fenton's home being raided by the government and Vlad Masters' very public, very messy custody battle with the older sister. Both of them were seen accusing each other of everything and anything, screaming insults and overly creative threats, and on more than one occasion the police had to pull Jasmine off of Masters who kept paying her bail but there was nothing explaining the hows or whys behind everything going on.
I know it isn't much but I just had the thought of Danny's parents getting arrested for whatever reason really but I'm going with their change of heart after a reveal gone right for this prompt. They shut everything down and stop making weapons that can actually hurt magical beings and a lot of influential people don't like that leading to a police raid while Jazz is away and forcing Danny to reach out to Dinah who could be his anything really from one of those online therapists to a godmother who tries to help him figure out his powers.
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