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#This isn't the last time I'll dance with your memory
dreamer-329 · 3 months
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inkskinned · 1 year
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i only bake when im happy. my grandmother taught me this. she says she has "a stigma" about it. (i say "isn't that the holes in the hands like jesus?" and get, from my father, a not-altogether unexpected back-of-the-head whack). she says that cooking you can kind-of fake. but you can taste if someone put their heart into baking.
i haven't made anything in an oven for over a year.
at first it was just plain grief. i couldn't even eat, much less mealplan. i have a weird thing about food; and can eat the same thing, every day, and be extremely happy about it. then i moved; and the oven here is weird, and i figured - ah, i'll figure it out eventually.
being sad silences such odd parts of your life. it's not like i meant to give up baking. i like baking. i list it in my hinge bio. people who have been friends with me for a while know she bakes. i like to make complicated, artistic things - things that take days to plan and a week to execute properly. my favorite does remain chocolate chip cookies - something about them being so simple and so immediately satisfying.
there are people i met in the last year who don't believe me. you don't cook, they laugh. which, i mean, i guess is true. as we speak, i'm eating something out of the microwave for dinner again. but still. i call one of my new friends and i tell her i saw a recipe for snail pretzels. she laughs and says why would you need that?
it's weird, i guess. i have so many very-very-very good memories, barefoot and dancing in yellow kitchens, humming to old music, my hands around a bowl. why, out of everything, is that what the grief stole? just this sudden, strange ... missing piece. and to be honest; it kind of scares me. because it happened so quietly is the thing. i never meant to stop baking. it just ... kind of happened to me.
i'm in the hard part of therapy - where you have to start feeling things. the whole world opens up and suddenly, everything hurts like you're 19. exciting! i am also, at the same time, and for the first time in my whole life - only beholden to me. any longterm choice i make only impacts my life. my first and only priority is just... me. for a while, the only way i experienced this sensation was to think how blisteringly lonely.
but i cleaned my kitchen today. later i will call nick and we will talk about stupid shit. tomorrow alex and i are binge watching tv. i have finished rearranging my plants today; they span my ceiling in a river of green.
and i think. i think. tonight i'll make cookies. i don't know if i'm happy. but it's just. you know. in the spirit of trying.
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gojowsddy · 3 months
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Tipsy Invitation
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𖨆♡𖨆 Rafayel x fem!reader
: ̗̀➛ you planned to host a party for your friends at Rafayel's place, but everyone has cancel due to the sudden heavy snow. The party decor is pointless now, and you end up trapped by the storm in Rafayel's home...(inspired by rafayel's veiled whisper five star memory)
: ̗̀➛ TW: nsfw content, bondage, porn with plot, riding, fingering
: ̗̀➛ word count: 2.8k+
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We spent countless hours decorating Rafayel's house for a party that turned out to be a complete waste of time due to the blizzard. You are sitting on the floor in front of the couch. You can feel the weight of exhaustion bearing down on you as you wearily take a sip of the delicious wine. You gaze out the window, watching the snow falling and wondering how long the storm will last. 
"Can this really be a party when it's only us?" You murmured, taking in the tantalising aroma of the cake and red wine wafting through the air.
"You're right. It's a date then." Rafayel's lips curled into a sly smile as he teased.
"Those are two different things...!"
Rafayel chuckles, loving your flustered reaction, "Hold off on the alcohol for now. Didn't you prepare a lot of party games? Shouldn't we play first?"
"They're meant to be played with a lot of people.. I've practised my dance moves-"
As Rafayel strolls over to the radio, you notice a mischievous glint in his eyes. A soft, soothing melody emanates from the speakers, and he extends his hand towards you.
As the music fills the air, Rafayel pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist. Moving in perfect harmony, he leads you across the dance floor. With each step, his touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel your breaths mingling together, the heady aroma of red wine. It's as if you are under a spell, lost in the moment, lost in each other. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you, joined together by an unbreakable thread of intoxication.
"Is this how you imagined the party would be?"
"...I don't know."
"Well, it's exactly what I had in mind. Buuut you'll probably feel a little queasy after drinking and spinning around, yeah?"
His hands rest on the small of your back, and his warmth seeps through the fabric of my clothes.
You can't tell if the heat is because of our dance or is it because of him.
You can only think about the scent of red wine.
You can feel his shirt against your body and his slow caresses on the back of your hand. They all seem to overwhelm your senses. Making you feel the dampening wetness growing in your panties.
"I'm feeling... a little thirsty," you muttered, trying to ignore the arousal that is burning inside you. Rafayel beckoned you towards the window and gestured over to the mini-fridge. He starts rummaging through its contents, searching for the perfect drink to quench our thirst.
"What do you wanna drink? There is some sweet stuff. Or maybe something light? Oh, I see sparkling water here."
"How about you mix one of your special drinks? I remember we've stocked up on plenty of cocktail ingredients." Your heart skips a beat as Rafayel looks my way, a mischievous grin playing on his lips while he tilts his head.
"My dear guest, alcohol isn't gonna make you less thirsty. You'll just be more drunk."
"Then make me something refreshing and won't get me drunker, please."
"If you insist. I'll do my best. Give me a moment."
Rafayel's hands moved with the precision of a seasoned bartender, as he grabbed two glass bottles and gave them a once-over. You found yourself captivated by the way he scooped some ice cubes and added them to the shaker. His hand closed around the shaker, holding it tightly as he gave it a vigorous shake. You couldn't help but notice how attractive his hands were. As you were lost in thought, a colourful, icy beverage appeared before you, snapping yourself back to reality. 
"What's this?"
"It's sparkling fruit juice. And the best part? It quenches your thirst without getting you drunk. The bad news is that there is no alcohol."
"I ordered a cocktail. If there's no cocktail then what's the point."
"Sorry, sorry, the bartender here plays it by ear." Rafayel places a hand over his chest, leaning slightly to look apologetic. All the while, he wears a smile clearly for the spectacle.
"Well it's delicious, but it's still not what I ordered. If you can't make me another drink, you need to compensate me in a way that makes me happy." You decided to play along with his game. With a fierce expression on your face, you pushed your finger against Rafayel's chest, causing him to lose his balance and stumble backwards into a nearby chair. Breathing heavily, you watched him nudge a present away with his foot before taking my hand and giving me a troubled look.
"How should I make it up to you, my dear customer~?"
"Well..." Suppressing a grin, you reach for the satin ribbon that's been carelessly draped over the back of the chair. You move slowly around Rafayel, taking in his every detail. The way his broad shoulders fill out his crisp white shirt, the hint of stubble on his chiselled jawline, and the intense look in his purple-pink eyes. As you make a few more rounds, you start to wrap the ribbon around his torso, feeling the heat emanating from his body. The crimson colour of the ribbon is almost mesmerising, darker than the rich wine you had been drinking earlier.
"I choose you."
You hold the delicate ribbon, trying to tie it into a perfect bow. That's when you notice Rafayel's piercing gaze on you, and your heart races with anticipation. With a sly smile, he breaks the silence with a soft chuckle, "All right. Consider it compensation. I'm yours for the taking."
"...Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap? I can't blindly accept this gift." The ribbons fall onto Rafayel. But because you denied him, an invisible tension grabs him. A strange playfulness is ignited in his gaze like he's about to pounce.
"You haven't even started unwrapping me. Am I gonna be thrown away just like that?"
"Oh, but I've seen this gift before. I don't need to unwrap it to know what it is." 
"Really? You..you think you have me all figured out, do you?"
You realised that there was no need for me to answer the question. It was evident that he already knew the answer and what he was trying to achieve. At that moment, your fingers slowly crept behind the back of the chair, reaching for the stem of a rose that was resting there. Its deep, rich colour reminded me of a fine wine, and you couldn't resist picking it up and twirling it between your fingers.
"Hmm, I wonder where that came from." 
You were sorely tempted to slap the cocky grin right off his face. However, you decided to be somewhat gracious and extend him a bit of kindness for the evening. Taking the rose that was in your hand, you gently rubbed it over Rafayel's sensitive ears, which were visibly flushed with heat. The redness that had overtaken his ears began to spread to his cheeks, creating a vivid flush that was impossible to ignore. You felt a sense of satisfaction at the sight of it.
"mhm..a-always, full of surprises, huh. You're good at catching people off guard." His breath hitched. A whimper escaped him, creating a symphony of desire that wrapped around you like an intoxicating mist. 
You couldn't control the growing wetness in your pants and the anticipation of wanting to just fuck him on the spot was so irresistible. You wanted to tease him more and more. With a rose in your hand, you ran it across his chest, making him feel the petals brush against his clothed skin. You gently rubbed against where his nipples would be.
"n-ngh..mhm...I'm not sure who's suffering more - me or the flower." Rafayel squirmed restlessly on his chair, the soft petals of the rose that he had rubbed to his nipples caused him to release a breathy moan. It was so clear that his nipples were peeking through his shirt. 
"C-can't you be a little more gentle?" His body is lumped restlessly on the chair, struggling to catch his breath while also trying to contain the growing pressure in his crotch. Your gaze follows the visible signs of arousal, starting at his flushed face and moving down to his throbbing cock poking against the fabric of his pants unsuccessfully hiding its desire. He shifts impatiently on the seat, clearly unable to resist the urge any longer. The sight of him struggling with both physical discomfort and overwhelming arousal only adds to your arousal. You can feel your heart rate accelerate as you watch him fidget and fight against the temptation.
"W-worried about b-breaking me? I'm not that fragile." He looked at me with begging eyes. You felt even more excited about the idea of 'breaking' him. However, thoughts lingered about not being enough to reach his satisfaction. 
"Are you still concerned? I'm down for a slow, thorough inspection." 
Your hand reaches around the back of the chair and your face meets with Rafayel, there is a sudden flash of light and a rush of energy that courses through your body. Your lips connect with his as you kiss him deeply inserting your tongue in his mouth, taking full control of his mouth. He feels warm against your skin, almost like it's pulsing with energy.
"All right, that's enough. I'll let you off the hook. Let me untie this - " Your eyes widened seeing that Rafayel grabbed your arm.
"When did you untie yourself?" A lump in your throat blocked you from speaking as your heart started racing so fast. 
"You know there are plenty of old escape techniques on the Internet," Rafayel smirked, dragging your arm, and forcing you to sit on his lap. Your legs were shorter compared to Rafayel's long legs, making you spread your thighs and expose your wet panties. 
Rafayel watches you intently, his gaze locked onto your every move. His cock throbs insistently against your panties. Despite knowing that giving in to your desires would mean submitting fully to Rafayel's control, the thought of riding his hardness is becoming increasingly captivating.
As you continue to struggle against his lap, your hands quickly find their way around Rafayel's neck. Your body starts to force itself to grind harshly onto his lap. 
Your head fell back, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Your body forcefully presses against his lap, grinding with intensity. Your actions grow more desperate, as you feel yourself descending further into a state of bliss.
Rafayel's body was writhing with desire, his moans of pleasure echoing through the room. His eyes were dark and filled with lust, his cheeks flushed with red and the intensity of his need was noticeable. You could feel his stare on you, hot and hungry.
"pleasepleaseplease....raff...I want more-" you whined. Now it's Rafayel's turn to bring you down.
He slowly unzipped his jeans and lowered his boxers. As he freed his cock, you couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the sheer size of it. It was thick and throbbing, with a deep red tip that looked almost painful and the precum leaking down his tip. Your own body trembled with anticipation as he began to stroke himself, his movements slow and deliberate.
With a low growl, Rafayel closed the distance between you, his hand still working his shaft. He pressed his body against yours, his lips hot on your neck as he whispered dirty promises in your ear. You could feel his erection pressing against you, and you knew that you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me.
"please..r-rafayel..please.." you begged him desperately.
"hah..where did your confidence go..beg for it," he has that cocky grin again and you don't want to fall for it but you wanted him so bad right now.
"please..raf..fuck me...I want your dick inside me...make me your cumdump..pleasepleaseplease-" As he moved closer to you, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. Your mind was a blur, unable to focus on anything except the overwhelming desire that was coursing through your body.
He snooks his fingers underneath your skirt, squishing one of your asscheeks before slapping it harshly. With his hand wrapped securely on your waist while his other hand plays with your panties. Pulling them side to side aiming for your sensitive area, making you attempt to close your thighs.
He brushed his fingers against your pants, pushing them aside to reveal your soaking cunt. His fingers traced along your clit, making you arch your back into him as he continued to rub your clit. It made it more difficult to shut your legs together.
"Here that? It's fucking soaking wet for me." He chuckles, making you bite your lips to not suppress a moan.
He enters both of his fingers into your cunt, you feel a rush of heat flood your body, making it impossible to think straight. You couldn't stop the whine that came out loudly and arched your back even more. In split seconds, Rafayel's fingers sped up his pace thrusting into you harshly, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every movement.
His fingers worked amazing the way he curled the tip of his fingers, successfully finding your g-spot and in seconds you were in a moaning mess, toes curled, head tilted to the side, it was driving you insane.
The silence was only filled with your moans and whines, which got louder every second, and the wet noises coming from your pussy. You begged him to go faster, desperate to reach your climax, but he refused to give you what you wanted. Instead, he pulled his hand away, leaving you gasping for air and trembling with frustration.
"Not gonna let you cum that quick," he said with a cunning smirk on his face. "I'll tell you when you can cum."
The anticipation was almost too much to bear, but you knew that the wait would be worth- 
He thrust his cock into you, leaving you no time to think. You felt a surge of pleasure that left you moaning uncontrollably. It was stretching you out so much and it isn't even halfway in. You felt so full and so stuffed.
You waited for him to do something but he was only staring at your desperate reaction.
"W-what..what are you doing? Please move..plea-" Before you could finish your sentence Rafayel thrust his dick into you, making his dick press against your cervix. Rafayel's sudden movement caught you off guard, causing you to scream.
The sensation sent waves of pleasure throughout your body, and you instinctively arched your back in response to the intense stimulation. Your hands grab a fistful of his shirt trying to resist the pain.
You moaned loudly as you felt the weight of his thick shaft filling you up completely, your tight pussy clenching around his length. 
"I-I...can't..t-take it any more..too f-full-" you couldn't form proper words as Rafayel continues to thrust his dick into you.
"Y-ye-..fuck..yes you can. L-loosen up, will you?" He stutters. Your gummy walls were making him absurd. The way it is sucking him in. The way it tightly suffocates his tip. He wraps his arms around your body, his chin lays on your shoulder and his eyes tightly shut. He just wants to stuff you full with his cum.
Rafayel couldn't control his thoughts. He suddenly manhandles you and forces you to be on the chair. Before you open your mouth to say something, he starts rummaging his dick in you. Forcefully, thrusting all his power into you. Your back is arched in a perfect 'C' shape and your toes are curled as he continuously fucks you hard. You couldn't stop moaning it was so fucking good sogoodsogoodsogood~. With each thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"I-i'm closee...imcloseimclose..please..let me cum..please," you begged. Rafayel could explode right now from the look of your pleading face. 
"Cum."
As Rafayel continued to thrust into you, you felt the string in your belly snap. The sensation was intense, and you couldn't help but close your eyes tightly shut. You were completely lost in the moment, and your body was responding uncontrollably. Your breath became ragged as you called out his name repeatedly, riding the waves of pleasure that coursed through you.
Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath, but Rafayel wasn't done yet. He continued to shove himself inside you, his movements becoming more urgent and forceful. His tip pressed against your cervix, a noticeable bulge poking through your abdomen, adding to the intense pleasure you were experiencing.
He was overstimulating you too much, you couldn't help but whine, "T-too much..please..i-its too much.." 
But your pleas fell on deaf ears as Rafayel continues to fuck you to reach his own climax.
As he continued to thrust into you, you felt your body respond in ways you never thought possible. Every nerve ending was on fire, and you were completely lost in the moment. You surrendered yourself to the pleasure, letting it consume you completely.
Finally, with one last thrust, Rafayel reached his own peak, cum squirted all over your stomach and collapsed onto you. You and Rafayel were left panting and gasping for air, your body still sticky and trembling.
"I-I’ll get you back, Rafayel.."
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p.s: This is my first smut writing. Please tell me how it is and any tips on improving.
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Friendly lips pt. 2 | L.N.
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Lando Norris x friend!reader
Summary: Two close friends try navigating the complex emotions that have arisen after their unexpected kiss.
Warnings: lil sexual themes, fluff.
Word count: ~1.6K
<
Lando couldn't escape the memory of your lips, the taste of your strawberry lip balm had lingered on his mouth since the night before. He had known the familiar scent for a long time, but now, he had a different connection to it, one that left him feeling both exhilarated and bewildered.
As you yawned and cuddled up to him, his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, deep in thought. When you greeted him with a "good morning," he realized he had been lost in his own world ever since he awoke.
"Morning," he replied, wrapping his hand around your shoulders, pulling you closer. But, in the quiet of the morning, Lando couldn't help but continue the wrestle with his emotions.
For the first time in his life, he had to resist an overwhelming urge to lock lips with his best friend, to taste the strawberries on your lips once more. It felt like a whirlwind of emotions and confusion, and he couldn't quite make sense of it.
"Ready for the last race of the weekend?" you inquired, breaking the building tension with a smile.
"Absolutely," he replied, letting go of his inner turmoil. "I'm already on fire to get on that track."
The tension dissipated, and you smiled contentedly, hugging your friend closer. "Can't wait to see it."
Lando couldn't help but tease you, "Well, if you hadn't been late yesterday, you would have seen it, but clearly, you don't love me enough."
You retaliated by biting his shoulder, causing him to yelp. "OUCH!"
You playfully scolded him, "Stop being a drama queen, or I'll bite you again."
Lando countered, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "But you love it when I'm dramatic…"
Deep in thought, you responded, "You're right, I do. Sorry, Lan," and sealed your apology with a kiss on the small red mark your teeth had left on his shoulder before heading to the shower.
Lando lay in bed, not moving, not breathing, his gaze locked onto his shoulder, where your lips had been mere seconds ago. The world felt like it had gone mad, and he couldn't help but wonder if he had too. The complicated dance between friendship and the unexpected pull of desire was a puzzle he wasn't sure how to solve, but one thing was certain: it had changed everything.
Lando couldn't comprehend why you appeared so nonchalant about the kiss, as if it held no significance to you. It left him frustrated and angry, wondering why you seemed to have it so easy, unaffected by the emotions that were tormenting him. He partly wished he could just go with the flow and pretend it didn't mean anything, but he knew he'd be lying to himself. He didn't want to forget the memory of how you felt and tasted against him, and that left him feeling increasingly lost.
Sitting in the garage, his hands almost pulling at his hair in frustration, Lando couldn't help but think about the kiss.
His gaze was fixed on you and some other drivers chatting, and the mere sight of you only deepened his inner turmoil.
Oscar, a keen observer, approached Lando, concern etched on his face. "You're all right, man? You seem stressed."
"I am stressed," Lando admitted, feeling a weight on his shoulders.
"Why? You did great yesterday, and today's race isn't even that important. I'm still sure you'll get on the podium."
Lando took a deep breath before responding. "It's not really about the race. I just can't get something out of my head…" He trailed off, his gaze still locked on you.
Oscar didn't miss a beat and saw right through Lando's internal struggle. "So, you've finally caught up to yourself and don't know how to get Y/N to be your girlfriend?"
Lando wasn't going to answer, but Oscar's persistence got to him. "I kissed her… well, more like we both kissed."
"When did that happen?!" Oscar's eyes widened with surprise.
"Yesterday…"
"Wow, mate… I mean, that's good. You've gotten out of the friend zone and into the boyf-"
Lando cut him off. "Not like that."
"What do you mean?"
"We were just playing around, and I stupidly, as a joke, said that we should kiss. She agreed, and we kissed, and… well, nothing, absolutely nothing. At first, I thought maybe she just felt awkward about the whole thing, but now I honestly think she's pretending like it didn't happen."
Oscar let out a low whistle. "Man, that's a lot."
"I know," Lando sighed, his frustration and confusion still gnawing at him.
As Lando finished the race in P1, the frustrations that had plagued him earlier seemed to have dissipated. He stepped out of the car, and the entire team swarmed him, offering hugs, congratulations, and pats on the back. You stood back, your heart swelling with eagerness, tears welling up in your eyes.
Amidst the commotion, your eyes were drawn to Lando, who looked incredibly happy and radiant. His smile, brighter than ever, was like a beacon of joy that made your own heart soar to life. You could hardly contain your emotions as you waited for your turn to congratulate the boy who officially lived rent free in your mind.
After a series of interviews, Lando finally had a moment to break free from the throng of well-wishers and head your way. As he made his approach, your eyes locked together, and in that shared gaze, all your unspoken emotions seemed to flow freely.
The two of you collided in a fierce, emotional hug, and Lando used his whole strength to pull you as close as possible. His face found solace in the crook of your neck as tears of happiness streamed down both of your cheeks. While your hands surrounded his shoulders, tangling in his champagne covered hair as you held on to him with all your might as well.
In that moment, as Lando inhaled your scent, time seemed to come to a standstill, leaving only the two of you in the world, your voice a clear whisper. "Congratulations, Lando, you are the winner." You could feel his rapid heartbeat against your own chest, making your heart come in sync with his.
He pulled away slightly, his gaze locked on your eyes, and you could see the depth of his feeling reflected in his soft, adoring look. "You're my best prize," he said, winking and gently kissing your forehead.
Your heart swelled even more, and you couldn't help the words that so silently escaped your lips, "I am yours."
However, your whisper was not to be heard as Lando was pulled away by ta group of other drivers pulling him into proud hugs. But Lando‘s eyes remained on yours speaking louder than you could, written in the language of your eyes, and it was a memory neither of you would ever forget.
Returning to the hotel after the race, you and Lando were still high on adrenaline from his impressive win. You ended up back in your pajamas, entangled together on the bed, watching a movie. The situation felt like a repetition of a few days ago when you had shared your kiss.
Your mind was racing with thoughts about that kiss, how it had lingered in your thoughts since it had happened. It was as if you couldn't escape the memory, and the way Lando made you feel.
On the other hand, Lando had accepted his fate, believing that he was just a friend to you. He was glad to, at the very least make you a proud friend with his victory, but the weight of disappointment sat heavy on his heart, especially when moments like this, being so close to you, felt utterly natural.
"Lando," you began, voice hesitant, "can I ask you something? But you must be honest."
"Whatever you want, darling," he replied, the endearment bringing a blush to your cheeks.
"Did our kiss mean anything to you?" you asked, eyes searching his with a mixture of hope and trepidation. You needed to know the truth, even if it meant potentially shattering your own heart.
He straightened up, looking directly in your eyes. "Everything... But if you wish to forget it, let's..."
His words trailed off as his gaze fell from yours, unable to withstand your lovely gaze that he was adamant he found himself drowning in
"I wish I never have to forget what kissing your lips feels like" you poured your heart out to your friend, meaning every word you softly spoke to him.
He is shocked by your words but your following actions shock him even further. You place your hands on his cheeks and pull him down, locking in your wish with yet another passionate kiss.
"Y/n please be mine, I’m begging you" the strawberry flavor has once again enveloped his senses and he rests his forehead against yours, his ardent breath ghosting your lips.
"Without a question my love, I’ve been yours this whole time" you reply, sealing your promise with a kiss to his cheek. Lando practically melts into you, breathing you in as if you were his lifeline.
A wide smile broke across his face, and you both began to chuckle as he peppered your face with affectionate kisses. "This is so much better than winning the race," he confessed, caressing your face.
"Even better than the champagne?" you can’t help yourself but tease him for his love of the sparkling drink.
 "Your lips are my champagne now" he said with a smirk, capturing you in another sweet and feverish kiss.
>
A.N. I hope this ain't too shabby...
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co-reborn · 8 months
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[PPV] BG SEX PERFECT PINK HAIR KOREAN COLLEGE GIRL RIDES AND GETS CREAMPIED - Full Ver ($30).mp4
Jiheon x Male Reader
view in AFF
3,013 Words
A/N: Huge thanks to @worldsover for allowing me to write a sequel to his fic BarelyLegalGirls and editing this fic as well. Go check out the original fic, it's my favourite fic of his.
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Day in, day out, the job of being the penis for the camera drained you—no, not like that. Well, yes, like that. But also, it is repetitive. Being a porn star isn't that different from your last job, carrying heavy boxes to and fro: blinding fluorescent lights, annoying noises, people bossing you around. Worthless exhaustion, and you're probably going to be replaced by a robot. Everyone was boring or vapid or aggravating, so few people at your job stood out.
You get a DM from one of the few.
"hii, it's ur favorite ice cream model"
The unexpected message comes with a selfie, and you look at it with disbelief.
The pink hair. The blinding smile. Memories all come flowing back into your head—memories of her sweet voice, memories of her curves, memories of her tight pussy. A woman so uniquely gorgeous yet filthy, you never thought you'd see her again.
"come over… i need some help pls??" 
The message followed by an address.
You're staring at her picture in disbelief, but eventually you reply.
"hey, it's you. what do you need?"
"just come! i'll tell you when ur here"
~~~~~~
Though your feet carry you down the corridor of this apartment building, you still have your doubts. Solicitations from strangers you've fucked once, these sorts of messages are nothing new at all with your line of work—what's new is that you've followed through, finding yourself in front of a door. You give it a few knocks. Listen closely, the sounds of furniture being dragged around. For all you know, she just wanted your help moving a sofa. That would've been fine with you.
Instead, when the door swings open, you don't even have time to react as a pair of arms wraps around your neck, and a pair of lips lays on yours, tasting so sweet.
Instincts kick in, with your hands finding their natural place on the girl’s waist. Her tongue wraps around yours and the kiss deepens, lips mashing and her hips grinding into yours. She hasn't even closed the door yet, and already, she's endeavouring to deprive you of oxygen. A dizzying haze consumes you as her fingers curl on your back. You hear rattling behind you—the elevator, footsteps—and you snap out of your lustful trance. Grab the girl’s shoulders, push her away, and close the door. 
In awe, you stare at Baek Jiheon, then clear your throat. "Not even a hello?"
She cheekily smiles at you before pulling you into the cramped space of her home. Jiheon kisses you on the cheek. "Hi, Oppa. Make yourself comfy."
You look around the room, with the bed next to the couch next to the kitchenette. Getting comfy is a bit of a tricky task. Next to the bed is a cheap tripod to hold her iPhone, a ring light to illuminate the corner, and a microphone neatly hidden out of view.
So she took your advice to heart, and in a way, your doubts are all but confirmed. However, when you ask “So what, you need a cameraman?”, it's more flirtatious than apprehensive. Only one person could convince you to switch career prospects on the spot.
Jiheon moves you behind the tiny desk. “And a partner too.”
Exactly what you expected, and not at all simultaneously. Your heart skips a beat; the throbbing is in your pants instead. There's no script for you to follow, so you find yourself silent and still.
“A dildo can’t fill me with cum. Besides, they say you never forget your first love, right?” Jiheon tiptoes and whispers into your ear. “And I love your dick too much to ever forget it, Daddy.”
The urge skyrockets, to slam her against the wall and take her there and then. You’re powerless when her fingers dance on your chest before she pushes you to sit on the couch. She hands you the phone, and you're bumbling with it; you even drop it once like you're a damn amateur. But you're willing to surrender whatever degree it took to make you a professional sexpert if it means another round with Jiheon.
While Jiheon shuffles to find the perfect position on her bed, you play around with the phone’s camera. She finally settles on kneeling, then she gives you a thumbs up. You click the record button.
Her playful demeanour instantly disappears, her mouth curling into a devilish smirk. Hands roam across the curves of her chest and her head tilts back as she’s completely absorbed in the moment. How is she so good at this? You, the porn star, are the last person to feel the urge to search porn, but you looked for Jiheon, many many times, and never found anything other than that single scene you shot with her. You've never met anyone so naturally gifted at the art of seduction.
Digging her knees into the soft mattress and looking at the camera—or is she looking at you?—Jiheon toys with the hem of the black shirt. Lifting it just enough to give a peek of her toned tummy, she covers it mere seconds later. You don’t even notice the build up of saliva in your mouth until now. Jiheon continues teasing the audience a few more times, toying with her shorts, gyrating her hips, before she finally pulls her shirt all the way up and over her. The top is put aside while she hastily reaches behind her back to undo her bra. 
With that out of the way, she pushes her tits together, pouting like some cute innocent girl.  You want to reach out, interrupt the scene, and get those pink nipples between your fingers or your lips. Your eyes roam her figure as you recollect the softness of her perky little breasts.
However, the view doesn’t last long. Jiheon unbuttons her shorts and turns away from the camera, then she bends over and pulls the shorts down to her knees. Temptation grows at the hint of her curves. Your mouth waters more. The bright pink panties are next to go, as she wiggles her butt while pulling the underwear agonisingly slowly, until finally revealing her perfectly photogenic and perky ass. It's a pretty painting, her bare back, her ass squished against her calves as she kneels, the soles of her feet and her wiggling toes. Most of important of all, she looks back at you, pure lust in her eyes, impossible for anyone breathing to deny.
She points to the tripod, then gives you a come-hither gesture of her fingers. 
You set the phone in its place, hurriedly strip yourself naked, and then you damn near leap at the bed. Jiheon giggles as she pushes you down onto the mattress. Her hands grip your shoulders as she positions herself hovering over you, her knees at the sides of your waist. You would be content with drowning in her fiery gaze but she looks over her shoulder instead. From the side of her face, you see her smile into the camera before slowly lowering into your lap.
Not hesitating to mask your enjoyment, you groan when Jiheon’s ass presses down and grinds on your cock. Her pussy's not hiding anything either, making your shaft slick. Her hips move back and forth, and already Jiheon's lips are contorting in need. Wanting more, she leans over to make out with you, her tongue always so enthusiastic to toy with yours.
Your hands are all over her back, gripping at her sides. As your fingers dig in, she grinds hard on you, like she's trying her best to get her dick inside her now. In failing, she just gets you all covered in juices—there might even be a pool of it on her bed now. You’re rock hard and trapped, physically by Jiheon’s curvaceous body and the bed, mentally by your ever-growing need of indulging in her. You're trapped, but you have no intention to escape. What has this young woman done to you? Perhaps you haven’t fully recovered from the first time you met her, judging by the repeated private viewings of her debut film.
When your mouths eventually disconnect, she whispers, “I need you in me now, Daddy.”
Reacting immediately, you lift Jiheon off your lap, aim your cock at her pussy, and sink her back down. Even at your own impetus, you gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, the exhilaration; Jiheon is much less quiet, throwing her head back to let out a loud moan. She’s so fucking wet, maybe even wetter than the previous time. There’s no director and crew around to distract her and dictate her every action. Her focus is completely on you and your cock. You made her this wet. 
You love every detail, the shake of her legs, the writhing of her waist, the little whimpers as your cock fills her and she takes a second to adjust to the pleasure. She then begins to ride you, making a wet mess on your crotch, and now you're sure about the pool with the stain on her sheets. You gently hold her, a hand on her slim waist and another on her thick thigh, while she sets into a comfortable rhythm. Not long after, the room is filled with faint sounds of wet flesh slapping against each other as well as your moans, growing from soft and reserved, to all-out declarations of bliss. 
Deciding to give into your urges, your hand on her waist reaches to her immaculate butt to cop a feel, squeezing to appreciate its softness while enjoying her breasts meshing against your chest.
Her pussy wraps your cock so lovingly, so needy, that you already feel a heady rush. With this small confined space and the stationary camera, you don’t have the luxury to change positions often, a common tactic to last long. You try to find ways to distract yourself. You think about what to eat afterwards, but nothing comes to mind except for Jiheon, a meal you want to completely devour. As she continues her passionate cowgirl bouncing, she brushes back her hair and holds it in a ponytail, and you find an opportunity. Sit up. Your lips lightly mark her neck, leaving both sides a little pinkish, before you move further down. You kiss her breasts several times and then take her nipple into your mouth. Sucking on them like your life depends on it, Jiheon hugs your head closer to her chest and cries even louder.
Whines and mewls intersperse her words as she says,“You like me, don’t you? You didn’t hesitate to come over when I texted you. Fuck, you wanted to fuck me again so bad, right?”
You don’t answer, instead choosing to bury your face deeper into her chest, while burying your cock deeper into her pussy. You and Jiheon both know the unspoken truth. 
“Well, I’m yours today." She's breathing heavily, nearly gasping for air, with her mouth open and her tongue out. "I’m your fucking toy. Use me however you want.”
Quickly making up your mind, you give her ass a loud, forceful smack, and she yelps. “I want to fuck you from behind, Jiheon," you say. "Need to watch that ass.”
Jiheon dismounts from your lap, though the temporary loss of her pussy around your cock earns a grunt from you. You step to the side of the bed while she gets on all fours, wiggling her ass for the camera, fixing her bangs, no doubt smirking. You need to show some semblance of control, to show that your mind hasn’t fully yet, so you press your tip against her wet slit and tease her by sliding up and down. For added measure, you reach down and rub at her clit.
Your stratagem works. Too well. She pushes her ass back instinctually, and once her snug walls tightening around your cock once again, you lose it all. You thrust forward, slamming into her, and you're already grabbing her hair as she rocks her body in tandem with yours. Every motion perfectly compliments you as you find yourself buried hilt deep in her. Knowing little else about Jiheon, you're sure that she does nothing halfway.
Even while drowning in her lustful desires, Jiheon still holds some awareness for her surroundings. She turns her head to the side, her half lid eyes staring into the camera as the stream of moans does not show any sign of stopping. You, on the other hand, are absorbed in the moment, hyper focused on Jiheon’s body. Her ass and thighs tremble at your relentless pounding, her back beads with sweat, and above all else, the plush walls of her cunt embrace your shaft so totally that you forget you're filming.
Utterly in the moment, you fuck her harder and faster. You're pulling her hair back now, making her look up and at you, and you're squeezing her ass—god, you’re never going to have your fill watching that ass. Slap it, make it ripple even more. Jiheon’s cries grow louder, and her pussy becomes wetter. She is getting exactly what she wants—to be used like a fucktoy—and she absolutely loves it. Her position on all fours falters, her arms losing strength, so she ends up with her face down into the mattress. Even with the average quality of the phone camera, you know this stunning silhouette of Jiheon bent over would make a perfect thumbnail.
While you maintain your grip on her waist, your other hand pulls her right arm and lifts her head off the bed. You catch sight of her cock-addled expression—her cheeks are flushed, her tongue is sticking out, her eyes almost fully rolled back. With this pace of pumping your cock into her young and tight body, her adorable breasts bounce up and down. 
Minutes or hours go by as you continue relishing in Jiheon’s body. Yet, all good things must come to an end. The streak of moans stops and Jiheon tries to form coherent words. “C-cum. Need to, I need to…”
Immediately, you withdraw from her pussy and flip her onto her back. You then fold her body into half, her legs pressed tightly against her chest. Staring intensely into her eyes, you resume fucking Jiheon with the intent of finishing her orgasm. Right now, it’s just you and her. Forget about the camera. Forget about recording a good clip for her. Your cock is wholly impaling her, and you sense the clenches of her cunt.
“I’m, I’m cumming. Fuck!”
Jiheon tosses her head back, her mouth left hanging open as she basks in the pleasure of her orgasm and your still pistoning cock. She shudders and squirms, her cunt making a creamy mess of your shaft. The sheer tightness and wetness of her pussy turns your brain haywire, every other bodily function shutting off, and the heat at your crotch is at a high as you inch closer towards your peak.
Moments after her own orgasm, Jiheon breaks through her haze and regains some sobriety, starting to slowly fuck herself into your length again. By the way her face contorts, you can tell she's still sensitive, but she works through it. Like a siren, Jiheon lures you closer and closer to the edge, her sweet voice beckoning for you to give in.
“F-fuck, you’re going to cum soon, right? Fucking cum inside me. That’s what you wanted since you came over, since you saw me strip earlier, right? Well, do it.” She wraps her hands around your neck and pulls you closer. She whispers straight into your ear, the microphone unable to pick up her dirty words. “As I said, I’m all yours, Daddy.”
Her words trigger a reaction from you once more. She’s the one under you, yet she’s had you under her spell this whole time, knowing exactly how to push your buttons. You place your hands on the mattress for leverage, fucking her raw in this mating press position. You had no chance of lasting much longer, since with a few erratic pumps later, you’re filling her full of your cum. Throughout your orgasm, even after it's ended, you’re still thrusting into Jiheon, prolonging this session as much as possible. 
When your cock eventually softens and slips out of her body, your creamy load immediately follows after. You lack the energy to hold yourself together and fall to Jiheon’s side. Jiheon turns her body towards the camera and you follow suit, spooning her from behind. Your shaft slips between her thighs, and it hardens once again as it slowly rubs against her messy pussy lips. Jiheon’s hand then slips downwards, and her fingers toys with your sensitive cock before they plunge back into her cunt, eliciting a soft moan. She scoops out your creampie, and some of the cum that's dripped out of her too, and then she slowly licks her hands clean for the camera.
Tilting her head back, she sighs, “You taste so good.”
~~~~~~
“So, how do you think it came out?” Jiheon asks. She's in your lap as you sit on the couch.
You take a second to process the words, with Jiheon interrupting the review of the footage. All that’s in your brain is the delightful sight of her deep in pleasure while you fucked her from behind, as well as the delightful feel of her thighs squishing under your fingers right now—you love the way your touch can make her giggle.
“I think it’s a good start," you say. "Once you get a better set up, I think it’ll be even better.”
In your mind, it’ll only be better when your cock is buried in her again, not just nested between her ass cheeks as they are now. 
Things unfortunately don’t get better as Jiheon leaves the warmth of your embrace. Turns out your judgement was flawed, however, when she ties her hair into a messy ponytail and gets on her knees between your spread legs.
She looks up and smiles. “Now for your payment, Daddy.”
You grab the phone.
Maybe this one should be on camera.
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dark-night-hero · 6 months
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Imagine as you and Jing Yuan stood across each other, weapon in hand. Despite the blood both on your body and faces there was some sort of smiles on your faces. One was a smile of agony and the other was a genuine smile. At that very moment, it felt like anything, anyone besides the two of you have disappeared. Like it was just the two of you in this chaotic field.
"Seriously... how did we come into this?" "Heh, that's a very nice question you have in there." You chuckle, hands playing with your weapon before dropping it. "You-..." "How about we dance?" "Are you crazy-" "Come on now, Love." He hates it when you call them like that, he hates the way it still gives him a lingering feeling on their stomach. "For old times sake?"
Imagine how much he hates this very fucking moment and yet dropping his weapon, he look a deep breath before replying. "For old times sake." It was stranger, how such words could hold so many unsaid feelings, so many memories, so much love.
"You've gotten good at dancing." "I can't have you always taking the lead, can I?" He replied. "Really? Not because you have practice with someone else?" "I only dance with you." "Pfff you're still cute as ever, Love." "Don't call me that." "But you like it when you call me that. See? Your ears are red." "No, it isn't." "Come on don't be silly, it's obviously red!" He hates it, he hates it how you turn your back at them, at him and now act like nothing happens. He hates how much he missed you in his arms.
"This is the last spin." "Such pity how all of this would come to an end." You chuckle as you let him spin only to felt his hold on your hand tighten and the way he somehow felt stiff looking down at his other hand. "You're... bleeding." "Yes, quite for some time now." You chuckle and only then did he notice how much your lips were trembling and how pale looking you were right now. "Then-!" "Come to think of it... how was snowmoon?" Who? Oh right.
"Why aren't you answering? I left my cub with you. But now that I think of it, you've been away for too long. We've been away for too long." "You need to get fix-" "The blade that struck me was lased with poison. Let me lean on you for a moment. I'm quite tired now." "Have you forgotten we're currently enemies-?!" He stopped. He stopped talking as he felt you slowly cooling down in his arms. The way you cling into him. He stopped.
"Jing Yuan... Yuan... My love, my light" Unconsciously, he hold into you. He hold on you tight and he hates it. He hates the way he cling into you, silently wishing and hoping this isn't it. "For old times sake... Can I hear you say it again?" He hates it. He hates it how you could easily take advantage of him by simply uttering those words. "I hate that I love you even after all the shit that you put me-us through. Do you know that?" Then he heard you chuckle. "I'm... sorry." He can feel your hold slowly loosening. "That was the only way... I could... Think off..."
Imagine the way he hates it. He have already seen you turning your back at him and this time, you've leaving him again somewhere far away. "Hey.." "Hmm?" "You're leaving me again." "Hehe... Jing... Yuan..." "... what?" "Thank.. you.."
For old times sake? For old times sake. For the love that once was there, and is still there but we could mo longer hold on into. So just this once, I'll do it for you. Just this once, for the love that was there and would soon be forgotten.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
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milliondollarwomen · 10 days
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Fateful Meetings
Thomas Webb x Reader
Word Count 2.6k
Hello! This is something I wrote up the other night cause I feel there isn't a whole lot about Callum Turner. This is just an intro and if you guys like it I will write more! Enjoy.
A knot of anxiety tightened in the pit of your stomach as the soft morning light poured through your apartment's transparent drapes and spread across the space. You had decided to meet up with your ex-boyfriend today, and while you were excited about the possibility, you were also worried.The nerves were unshakeable. And if things went wrong? What if you felt exposed and raw because old wounds reopened? You felt a mixture of excitement and fear at the prospect of confronting your history. You grabbed the bag tremblingly and made your way toward the door, each step felt more difficult than the last. You took a deep breath and ventured out onto Manhattan's busy streets, ready to take on whatever the day might bring. Even with all of your anxiety, there was a glimmer of optimism that perhaps, just possibly, this encounter would provide the closure you had been longing for.
You rounded the corner, lost in thought, only to crash into someone coming from the opposite direction. Your bag and other items fell to the ground, and you let out a startled gasp, your heart racing as you struggled to regain your balance. "I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, crouching down to gather your fallen belongings, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. A stranger knelt beside you, offering a friendly smile as he helped collect the scattered books. "No worries, happens to the best of us," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. As you reached for a stray book, your fingers brushed against his, sending a strange jolt of electricity through you. You looked up, meeting the stranger's gaze, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. "Thomas," he introduced himself, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "Nice to meet you, Thomas," you replied, returning the smile, though your heart still raced from the unexpected encounter.You packed up your things and headed to the coffee shop nearby, memories of the unexpected encounter with Thomas still circling around in your thoughts. The smell of freshly ground beans wafted through the door, a soothing reminder of the familiar scent that still danced in your stomach. Your ex was already there, seated at a corner table, their gaze fixated on their phone as they waited for you. As you approached, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you—nostalgia mingled with apprehension, memories of both laughter and heartache flooding your mind. With a forced smile, you greeted them, sliding into the seat opposite theirs. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, a silent tension that hung heavy in the space between you.
"Hey, it's been a while," you greet him as you meet up, trying to keep your voice steady. "Yeah, it has. Thanks for meeting up," he responds casually. The conversation continues, the usual pleasantries exchanged, but there's an underlying tension you can't shake. Finally, unable to hold it back any longer, you ask him, "Why did you even bring me here? If all you wanted was to check in, why did you make it seem like there was something more?" His expression falters, caught off guard by your question. "I... I didn't mean to mislead you. I genuinely just wanted to make sure you were okay," he stammers, apologetic. You shake your head, unable to hide the hurt in your voice. "It's just... it's hard, you know? To see you and not feel like there's still something between us. And then to find out that there isn't... it hurts." He's at a loss for words, realizing the impact of his actions. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize... I'll leave you alone. Goodbye," he murmurs, before walking away, leaving you feeling more confused and hurt than ever. As you gather your things, a heaviness settles in your chest, and you wonder if closure will ever come, knowing you need to find the strength to move on from what could have been. As you stepped out onto the bustling city streets, the weight of the conversation with your ex still heavy on your mind, your phone buzzed in your pocket, interrupting the tumultuous thoughts swirling within you. With a sigh, you pulled it out to see your best friend's name flashing on the screen. "Hey," you answered, trying to sound more composed than you felt. "Hey, are you free tonight?" your friend's voice came through the line, laced with excitement. You hesitated, the events of the day leaving you feeling drained and emotionally spent. The last thing you wanted was to put on a brave face and pretend like everything was okay. But then again, maybe a night out with your best friend was exactly what you needed—a chance to escape the weight of your thoughts and lose yourself in the simple pleasures of the present moment."Yeah, I think I could use a distraction," you admitted reluctantly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips."Great! I'll swing by your place in a couple of hours. Get ready for a night to remember!" your friend exclaimed. With a newfound sense of anticipation, you hung up the phone and headed back to your apartment, the promise of a night out with your best friend offering a glimmer of light in the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, tonight would be the reset button you needed—a chance to leave the worries of the past behind and embrace the joy of the present.
You found yourself standing in front of the mirror, struggling with a whirlwind of contradictory feelings as the evening approached and the possibility of spending the night out with your best friend grew closer. You were feeling uneasy about the day's events and your head was still spinning from the encounter with your ex. A nagging thought of your brief interaction with Thomas earlier in the day crept into the corners of your mind as you started getting ready, carefully applying makeup and choosing the perfect dress. His name stirred feelings you'd tried to push under the surface of the evening's distractions, resonating in your mind like a whisper on the wind. However, you soon dismissed the concept, telling yourself there was little to no chance of ever seeing him again. Considering the size of New York City, the likelihood of a coincidental meeting on the streets was minimal at most. You gave a resolute shake of your head to drive away any thoughts of Thomas and bring your attention back to the task at hand. It was a night to let go of the past and embrace the present, with your best friend by your side. As your best friend's taxi pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt a surge of excitement mingled with apprehension. Rushing out to meet her, you greeted her with a warm smile, the events of the day momentarily pushed to the back of your mind as you embraced the promise of the night ahead. "Hey, thanks for picking me up," you said, sliding into the back seat of the taxi beside her."No problem at all! Ready for a fun night out?" she replied, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Definitely," you answered, the corners of your lips turning up into a grin. "It's been a long day, but I'm ready to let loose." As the taxi merged into the flow of traffic, the two of you engaged in light-hearted small talk, discussing everything from work gossip to weekend plans. The hum of the city buzzed around you, a comforting backdrop to the easy camaraderie you shared with your friend. Before you knew it, the taxi pulled up outside a cozy-looking jazz bar, its neon sign casting a warm glow against the evening sky. The sound of live music spilled out onto the sidewalk, beckoning you inside with promises of soulful melodies and lively atmosphere. "Here we are!" your friend exclaimed, excitement evident in her voice as she paid the fare and stepped out onto the sidewalk.You followed suit, a sense of anticipation building in the pit of your stomach as you made your way towards the entrance of the bar.
As you and your best friend settled onto the barstools, the soft glow of the jazz bar enveloping you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for her comforting presence. Ordering a round of cocktails, you took a moment to savor the lively atmosphere and the anticipation of the night ahead."So, spill the tea," your best friend exclaimed, leaning in with a mischievous grin. "How did the conversation with your ex go?" You took a deep breath, knowing that your best friend was never one to mince words. "It was... okay, I guess," you replied, swirling the ice in your glass. "He just wanted to check in and make sure there were no hard feelings." Your friend's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Seriously? That's it?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with incredulity. "After everything he put you through, that's all he has to say?" You shrugged, feeling a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Yeah, pretty much. But I guess it's for the best," you replied, trying to keep your tone light. Your best friend shook her head, her expression one of fierce determination. "You deserve so much better than that," she declared, her voice ringing with conviction. "You deserve someone who sees your worth and treats you like the queen you are." You couldn't help but smile at her words, feeling a warmth spread through you at the unwavering support of your best friend. Raising your glasses in a silent toast, you clinked them together with a sense of solidarity. "To better days and finding someone who truly deserves you," your friend proclaimed, her eyes sparkling with determination. "To better days," you echoed. As you clinked glasses with your best friend, the vibrant energy of the jazz bar pulsed around you, filling the air with a sense of anticipation and excitement. With a shared grin, your friend grabbed your hand and led you towards the small area where people were swaying to the rhythm of the live band. But as you followed her, your gaze inadvertently drifted towards the entrance, and there, amidst the dimly lit crowd, you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. It was him—Thomas, the man you had bumped into earlier on the street. And to your surprise, he was looking right back at you. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met, the connection crackling with an unspoken electricity that sent a shiver down your spine. His gaze was intense, unwavering, as if drawn to you by some unseen force. As the realization of the moment sunk in, a jolt of nervous energy coursed through you, your heart pounding in your chest. What were the odds of running into him again, especially in a city as vast as New York? But before you could gather your thoughts, your best friend tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor with an excited grin. "Come on, let's dance!" she exclaimed, oblivious to the brief exchange you had just shared. With a fleeting glance back at Thomas, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the music and the infectious energy of the crowd.
As the music swirled around you, you and your best friend danced with abandon, the infectious energy of the jazz band filling the air with an undeniable sense of joy. But as she twirled off to chat with a handsome stranger she'd just met, you found yourself drifting towards the bar, craving the solace of a quiet moment amidst the lively chaos of the club. As you leaned against the polished wood, waiting for the bartender to notice you, a gentle tap on your shoulder caused you to turn around. And there he stood—Thomas, the man whose gaze had lingered in your mind since your chance encounter earlier in the day. "Hey," he said, his voice soft yet filled with an unmistakable intensity. "Hi," you replied, your heart fluttering with a mixture of nerves and curiosity. "Crazy meeting you here." "Yeah, what are the odds?" he chuckled, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine.As the two of you fell into an easy conversation, the noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving only the sound of your voices and the steady beat of your heart. It was as if the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in this moment, suspended in time.
"So, how was your day?" Thomas asked, his gaze soft yet filled with an underlying intensity. You hesitated for a moment, surprised by the genuine interest in his eyes. "It was... eventful, to say the least," you replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I ran into my ex earlier, and let's just say it was more awkward than I anticipated." Thomas nodded, a sympathetic expression crossing his features. "I know the feeling," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "My day wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows either. I found out that my dad is cheating on my mom, and I... I confronted the other woman." Your heart went out to him, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "I'm so sorry," you murmured, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort. "That sounds incredibly difficult." Thomas offered you a grateful smile, his eyes meeting yours with a sense of vulnerability that took your breath away. "Thanks," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a rough day, but talking to you somehow makes it feel a little bit better." You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, a sense of connection blossoming between you like a fragile flower in the darkness. It was strange, this inexplicable bond that had formed between two strangers in the span of a single conversation, but somehow it felt right. Eventually Thomas had ordered you a drink and once you both finished your drinks, he glanced towards the corner of the jazz club, where a vintage photo booth stood, invitingly lit. With a charming smile, he suggested, "Hey, want to check out that photo booth?" Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you nodded eagerly, saying, "I’m always up for a good photoshoot." You both made your way over to the booth, anticipation building with each step. As you stepped inside the cozy space, the curtain closed behind you, cocooning you two in privacy. “Okay what should we do first?” He asks “There's no fun in planning it, I'll just hit start and we will figure it out” you say Laughing, you two tried out different poses, capturing candid moments of joy and connection. The camera flashed, freezing your smiles and laughter in timeless snapshots. As the last photo was about to be taken, Thomas locked eyes with you, a flicker of something intense passing between us. Without breaking the gaze, he slowly lowered his gaze to your lips, a silent question lingering in the air. And in that moment, as if drawn by an irresistible force, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. Time seemed to stand still as you guys shared a tender, electric kiss in the dimly lit confines of the photo booth, the world outside fading away into insignificance.
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chaosology · 8 months
Text
bad idea, right?
— Sam Kerr x reader
based off Olivia Rodrigo's new song | masterlist
warnings: steamy, allusions to sexy times. it's a small fic, sorry! i feel it isn't very good quality lol
Haven't heard from you in a couple of months, but I'm out right now and I'm all fucked up
Your drink was spilling all over your hand as you stumbled through the crowds, pulling your friend's hands as they yelled over the music. There was no doubt about your intentions tonight. Sam was fresh on your mind and your friends were sick of you crawling back to her, with Robin going as far to call you a "slutty, lovesick puppy".
She wasn't wrong. Time after time you would wake up in her bed after agreeing to call it off, memories of the night before (and earlier that morning, let's be real) fresh in your head. They made you promise that tonight you'd quote "fuck it out" with someone else, as long as you didn't call her. You were about 80% sure it was doable, after all you hadn't spoken with her in a few days anyway.
The drink sloshes in your cup as you throw your hands up. Strangers are dancing up on you and you throw the cute girl across from you a wink. She's moving closer towards you as the song changes, her hands beginning to snake around your neck. As soon as you close your eyes and relax into it, they're gone.
"Damn, didn't know you were taken for the night."
You shoot her a confused look, and she motions over your shoulder at a figure standing by the door.
Fuck.
Sam's there. Right there - in the club where you're supposed to be finding a fling. She's leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest. She's got an almost amused, cocky look on her face as she stares you down. Her eyebrows raise as she nods, is she giving you her "blessing" to continue? Screw her.
"Don't worry about that." You whisper in the girl's ear, leaning down to bury your face in her neck. In what feels like an instant, you're being pulled away. There's no time to even utter an apology as you find yourself on the other end of the floor.
The lights are casting a purple glow over her face as she looks down at you. The tune of Troye Sivan's "Rush" is loud in your ears as you meet her gaze, a defiant look in you're eye.
"You really thought you'd get away with that?"
"Oh please, aren't we broken up Sam? Pretty sure it was you who initiated it."
"I wasn't the one at my door last week, begging for it." She fires back.
All resolve you had fizzled away as you looked quickly for your friends. Robin was making out with a guy at the bar and Georgie was nowhere to be seen. Perfect.
Her hands are on your hips in an instant, pulling your lower half into her. Your swaying your hips, hands moving to her neck as her chest presses against her back. She's murmuring in your ear and you pray the music is too loud for anyone to overhear. She kisses your neck, her hands running up and down your body as she sways with you. Tangling your hands in her hair, you bring her in for a kiss.
She grabs your thigh, lifting the leg to wrap around her waist as she deepens the kiss. You can't find it in you to care that you're going back to her once again, falling back into that same pattern you came hear to break.
And I told my friends I was asleep, but I never said where or in whose sheets
"Should we get out of here, baby?"
You only nod, letting her know you're off to let your friends know . You tap Robin on the shoulder.
"Fuck, I completely forgot about my lecture tomorrow. I've gotta be up early, I'll let you know when I'm home." A complete lie.
You're glad Sam is out of her line of sight otherwise you'd be in for it. She gives you a hug and you pray to God she doesn't notice your now smudged lipstick. As soon as you're in the taxi, Sam's hand is on your thigh and giving it a squeeze as she winks at you.
Maybe next time, you think. One more time with Sam can't hurt, right?
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maiko-san · 5 months
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TADC x Robotic Jester Reader ( Part 1 )
You have a robotic jester avatar that is straight up Fizzarolli.
(Y/o/n) : Your other name
The reader is non-binary ( Reader is a Yes ), age 23.
Ft. Kinger, Ragatha and Caine
Part 2
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The last thing you remember was putting on a headset and boom, you spawned in a circus and forgot your name.
Great.
The ringmaster names Caine gave you a new name which was (Y/o/n). You accept your new name and your new life in this circus. Oh, also a new body which was a jester but a robot? You find it cool that you can extend your limbs and is incredibly flexible. At first, you find it hard to control your body parts but "practice makes perfect" and you manage to control your limbs like a pro.
Anyways, you're one of those people that accept your fate and live normally in the circus unlike the others who got obsessed finding the exit, went insane and then abstracted. It was to a point it was only you and Kinger left in the circus. ( Ragatha is actually the second oldest member but I'll make her the third after Reader )
Kinger
Kinger sees you as a good and loyal friend. Both of you are really close.
After Queenie abstracted, you were there to comfort him. The poor man's mental health had deteriorated after witnessing all his friends abstracted causing him to become paranoid, easily scared and forgetful.
There are times that whenever you're talking to him and the next thing he does is scream due to him forgetting who you were ( you were slightly hurt by it at first but you can't blame him for having a short term memory ).
Plus, your avatar is kinda scary tbh. Glowing eyes, sharp teeth and all?
Anyways, whenever Kinger made a pillow fort, you would help him make a bigger one! A castle pillow fort!
It was lonely and uneventful when it was just you and Kinger but it didn't take long for new members to pop in.
Ragatha
Oh dear lord.
Isn't she the sweetest doll you ever met? Well, really not actually no. Not in a bad way, you could read someone's body language and you know she's forcing herself to be happy in this digital world.
"Come on now, dollie! Don't force that smile, you might hurt those lil cute cheeks of yours~" you giggled, poking her cheeks.
Ragatha doesn't know whether she should blush or weirded out with you.
During her first arrival, she had a hard time fitting in and she avoided both you and Kinger at first.
She also tried to find the exit which she failed to do so.
She knows that you want to have a conversation with her but you didn't force it on her. Which she appreciates.
At that point she can see that you genuinely want to befriend her. After she sees how close you and Kinger are.
As time goes by, she starts to talk to you and Kinger. Man, you are one happy jester!
You get to know about Ragatha more, she's actually a nice person and also she knows how to knit and make embroidery!
She actually made a plushie of you and Kinger, how cute!
"Awwwww~" you awed at the sight of the plushie version of you and Kinger. "Kingy! Hey, Kingy! Look how scary my plushie is!" you said, running towards the chess king like a child who got a present. Kinger holds the plush version of you, but when you show his plush ver "AHH—"
Ragatha couldn't help but giggle at the sight.
Whenever the three of you are in the tent, you usually practice your circus act during your free time.
What is a circus without a circus performer anyway? You would do juggling balls and proceed to do the extreme, like juggling the closest thing to you like chainsaws, swords, chair, Kinger—
Dancing on a tight rope? Check.
Eat a sword? Check.
Blow a huge ball of fire? Check.
Magic tricks? Check.
Ragatha, Kinger and Caine would watch you do the tricks, they were impressed how quickly you learn all of it. Especially Caine, who assists you with all of your circus acts.
Caine
He loves how you know how to do circus acts! ( It seems the ai has a favourite child ).
What is the point of a circus without a circus performance? Him being the ringmaster and you're the performer.
Caine did try to make Ragatha and Kinger join in the fun but they ended up failing miserably. Like jumping through a fire hoop and on a spinning wheel?
"I-I think we'd rather be the audience, Caine" Ragatha chuckles nervously as she pulls out a cleaver from her head and pretends it was normal which it wasn't. Kinger on the other hand is shaking uncontrollably from the experience and his robe is on fire which you out. You tried to hold him down, only to have him clip through the floor.
"Kingy!!!!" you let out a panic scream as you scratch the floor after witnessing your bestie glitching into the floor. "Caine! Do something, what if he went to the cellar or worse, trapped in some weird endless yellow room filled with monsters?!" you shrieked, pulling on your jester hat.
Caine with a snap of his fingers teleports the chess king back into the tent, unharmed. Much to your relief. "Kingy? Are you alright?!" you asked the chess piece, pulling his head down and you checked on him. Basically smashing your forehead against his. "I'm totally fine, (Y/o/n)" he said, you let out a sigh of relief. "Did ya see a gameshow under there?" you asked him.
"Anyways! Let's head out for new adventures my fellow friends!" announce Caine, disregarding the fact he nearly set Kinger on fire and threw cleavers at Ragatha, without knowing that he had traumatized them.
Oh well, it seems that only you could do circus performance, well for now.
Anyways! Adventure, here we come!
He really likes how you would go along with every one of his adventures within the digital world and is very adventurous.
It keeps everything lively!
He wishes that the others are as adventurous as you!
Author's Note :
For characters age, Kinger (45), Ragatha (30), Gangle (26), Pomni (25), Reader (23), Zooble (22) and Jax (22).
As for now I do Kinger, Ragatha and Caine. I will do the others in the second part. The reader and TADC casts won't have romantic interest yet. I am not sure about Kinger since he's a middle aged man but I think it's better to have platonic relationship with him.
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witchysfics · 6 months
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Hey! I loved your fic a lot, thank u for adding some fluff to his romance <3
You mentioned the requests are possible, what about Gale and Tav spending one of their nights in town? Maybe cafe, tavern or restaurant? Or just a slow walking promenade through the alleys? Or slow dancing somewhere near musicians? Whatever inspires you the most :D
Thanks!
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author's note : Thank you so much for requesting!! I will be finishing up other requests and finishing my rules soon. Feel free to keep requesting for now! I love all your ideas!! this is not proofread and may have many mistakes. It was soooo late when I was writing this. enjoy <3
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The party had stopped at a quaint little town for the evening. You had practically begged to rest here. Why be outside in the cold dark night when you all could cozy up a fire and warm up to a little a drink. It would be great!
And you were right. The tiny town was filled with happy families, couples strolling along and a quaint tavern, perfect for your traveling party.
As the sun disappeared behind the horizon and night filled the air the town grew even more bustling.
Now the patrons of the tavern sat outside nursing their drinks and watching the locals dance to the music.
The party had settled on some outdoor seating as well, Karalach and Wyll loading up on ale, laughing boisterously. Astarion hung to the shadows, probably looking for a snack out of one of the clueless town's persons. And you sat with Shadowheart chatting like a couple of gossiping old ladies while Gale sat with you two, listening.
An upbeat song began, drawing your attention to the dancers.
"The aroma of the night is relaxing. It's a nice change of pace isn't it?" Gale asks, turning to you and Shadowheart.
You nod, smiling. You could definitely agree, after the countless battles and hours of exploring the party really needed this off time.
A sudden bump of your table had startled the three of you.
"Op! s-sorry!" A giddy, and possibly drunk, Karlach called as she dragged a nervous Wyll to the dance floor. "I told you Wyll, Blade of Frontiers. You will be bested by me! Karlach! ... uhh The Dancing Demon!"
You and Gale chuckled at their antics while Shadowheart shakes her head, amused.
"How long do you think before Wyll finds competing with Karlach is too hot to handle?" Gale asks jokingly.
You shake your head at that, "Haha, I thought you were a Wizard, not a comedic bard." You quip.
"I can be anything you'd like my dear. Maybe even a proficient dancer?" He look expectantly at you. His delivery is confident but the message in his eyes holds of other, more nervous intension.
You blush slightly at the implication of the statement. Opening your mouth, trying to formulate something to say but nothing comes out.
"I- uh."
"I can't remember the last time I danced." Shadowheart sighs, gazing at the dancers.
You turn to her and fan your heating face. Thankful that she unknowing shifted attention to herself you ask, "Really? Shar doesn't like dancing?" You joke, smiling a little at her.
"I wouldn't say that, its just... I can't remember the last time I danced, because of the...you know" She gestures to her head, "memory spell"
You make a silent 'oh' in realization.
"I'm not too sad about it though, I know I'll get my memories back. And in the mean time," She suddenly stands from her seat, standing in front of you. "I get to make new memories now. Starting with you!" She makes a quick motion for you hands and pulls you up to her.
You let out a surprised yelp as she laughs and she drags you over to dance. You look over your shoulder to Gale, who looks just as surprised but recovers and mouths for you to 'go on it's fine' with a smile. You give a apologetic smile in return.
Shadowheart, still holding your hands, spins the two of you. Dancing in a way that is reminiscent of young school girls. Twirling, spinning, jumping and laughing all the while.
You spot Karlach an Wyll who both shoot you friendly smiles. Wyll's a little more crooked and weary while Karlach gives you two red thumbs up.
Eventually you have traded dance partners as more people join the group. You switch from Shadowheart, to Karlach to Wyll. Even Halsin joins in during a slower song. You danced with strangers too, some old some young. Some flirted with you and some you made a friendly banter. You had noticed Gal tried to slip in a few times only for you or him to snatched up by a different partner. Both of you expressing contrite smiles to one another.
By the time you got back to your table, and Gale the whole town might as well have turned in for the night. The music was slower and the dance floor was lighted by dancing fireflies and the occasional ground lantern.
"Well, it's been a while." He says looking over to you. "You seem very popular."
You sigh falling into the chair, exhasuted. "I'm so sorry!" You exclaim, slumping to your knees and placing one of your hands on his own that sat on his high. "I had meant to answer you question ages ago, but well..." You chuckle, "I just I was preoccupied."
"Oh no my dear, I completely understand. Of course everyone would want to dance with a beautiful individual like yourself."
His voice is smooth, like a stream gliding over flat stones. His face is soft though his tone is flirty.
You gulp and roll your bottom lip between your teeth. You've danced with strangers all night, how could he make just taking to him overwhelming?
"Is something the matter? You seem, stunned." He asks a smug smile spreading across his lips
"Oh! No no. Not at all." You clear your throat. "Sorry I just...." You trail off, unsure of what to say.
"You know," he begins, taking your hand into his. "You never did answer my question. Would you like me to be your dancer?"
You nod breathlessly and he smiles down at you. His eyes filled with an indescribable softness.
He pulls you gentally to the dance floor and a song kicks up as you wrap your arms around his neck and he placed his hands on your waist. His chest presses to yours and the warmth from the contact warms the cool air around you. His shoulder is soft as you place your head upon it. Drinking in the smell of his, now clean, robes. They have a hint of petrichor and vanilla, as well as a slight lingering smell of ale. But that is to be expected near a tavern.
The playing song is cheerful, but romantic as it belows out it's slow rhythmed melody.
Gale's eyes haven't left you once since you'd begun dancing. Taking in the view of your eyes as they sparked from the light of firefies.
It's only when he begins speaking are you snapped out of your trance.
"You know, I've been trying to get to dance with you all night. I was almost convinced I wasn't going to just because I couldn't seem to even catch a small moment with you." He chuckles. "But I'm glad I waited. Dancing with you then would have been a privilege but I would have had lost you as soon as I got you. But this, dancing with you, watching your darling face lit up by the stars? This, this is a dream."
Footnote : Thank you so much for requesting! I hope this is sufficient to what you had in mind, this was really fun to write. Had me kicking my own feet. Sorry it took me so long to get to, midterms have been biting my ass. Love ya! - Witchy
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sage-green-matcha · 10 months
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MAROON - ETHAN LANDRY PT. 1 🍷🥀🔪
“The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, and how the blood rushed into my cheeks so, scarlet it was” - Taylor Swift
Content includes: mentions of murder, alcohol, pretty much it for this chapter!
Pt. 2 of Maroon | Pt. 3 of Maroon | PT. 4 of Maroon |
(A/n: This is the first chapter of a series! It’s gonna be ab 5-7 parts? I’m not sure yet. Hope you enjoy! )
<3
<3
<3
Your whole life you'd felt like an outcast, no friends, a broken family. You'd move around your entire childhood, you never had one place that you called home. You knew you couldn't get too comfortable anywhere you were.
That was until you moved to Woodsboro. You were there for your last two years of high school. Becoming friends with a group of "popular kids" but what you didn't know was that at the cost of having friends was death.
"Y/n, you okay?" Tara waved her hand in your face. "I- yea I'm fine" Your lips were agape, picturing the sight of the dead bodies you had seen in the past. You took it harder than everyone else. Sam kept trying to get you to go to therapy but you refused. You didn't think anything was wrong with you. But the situation changed how you looked at everyone and everything.
You couldn't trust anyone, nowhere was safe. You felt like there were eyes on you at all times. And you never dared to pick up any calls from unknown numbers. "I was asking what we should get for dinner? Everyone's coming over in a bit" "Oh uh, I'm fine with anything"
It was just a normal night to everyone else, but to you, the moon was the same as it was on that night. It was full, and it messed with your head. "Y/n...it might be last minute but do you wanna go to a party? It's Halloween themed and I know you've been wanting to wear your costume" She smiled at you.
She knew you would say yes, everyone loved when you were drunk. You were the same person from before the murders, the same funny, sweet, Y/n that gave no fucks. You let loose, you'd dance with anyone who asked and took whatever drink was handed to you.
"Yea, I'll get ready" "Nice" she squealed, leaving you alone. You kept your door open, finding your pink butterfly wing teeshirt, pairing it with a green mini skirt. It was simple enough but still cute, tying the shirt in the front to make the "slutty" aspect of Halloween come into play. You had a little flower crown, carefully placed butterflies all over it, a green bow in the back.
You did your makeup with care, adding glitter and gems to the sides of your eyes. "Hi Y/n...we're leaving soon" you responded to the unfamiliar voice, looking up quickly "Oh, hey Ethan...right?" He nodded. You'd be lying if you said you didn't think he looked silly. He was wearing a cardboard hat, grey tape around the edges to give it a "cleaned up" look.
"Yea...Ethan Landry" "And what are you supposed to be, Ethan?" He was really cute, he had a shy look in his eye, his cheeks covered in pretty roses blush color. "I'm a Knight" "Your armor isn't really shiny" he looked confused and kinda offended at the same time.
"I- I'm just kidding, sorry. I'll be out soon" You smiled up at him. He had pictured your smile in his mind and it was so much better than he had imagined. You were always quiet and serious in Econ class, but you looked so good with a smile on your face.
Luckily, Ethan would be getting to see you smile all night, the first one when you took your first shot of the night. "To the Fab 5, and! To Ethan, my roommate" "Chad ew, don't call us that" Tara cringed. "Yea! And Sams not here so it's not the full 5" you laughed. "Okay, okay whatever. Cheers guys" You took the small glass to your lips, burning liquid smoothly going down your throat, tossing away old memories and letting yourself go.
"Let's dance!" You dragged Tara to the dance floor also known as the living room, the smell of smoke filling your nose. "Does Sam know you're here?" "No!" She laughed and you shook your head. "You know she's gonna track you down, right?" "Nah, she won't find me"
You stumbled back to the kitchen, Ethan scrolling on his phone silently. "Hey, E...you drink?" You held up a bottle tauntingly and he shook his head. "Uh, no" "yea, I saw you spit out that shot" you smiled, turning back to the table of alcohol, pouring two shots of vodka. "Here" you handed him one, his shaky voice thanking you.
You liked Ethan, sure you'd only known him for a couple hours but he reminded you of yourself. Getting dragged into new friend groups where they don't quiet except you, feeling left out of jokes since he hadn't been here long. "How long have you been in New York?" You strike up a conversation, Anika stealing you back after the long chat. "Got eyes for Landry, huh?" "He's cute" you shrugged with a smile, taking a drink from the red solo cup in your hand. "Chads gonna freak"
Her eyes widened and so did her smile. It finally felt like you were trusting someone, opening up, and starting a conversation. You knew the next time you'd seen him he'd be confused by the lack of energy you'd have. In reality, the alcohol was what was giving you that boost.
You sat down next to the two girls, Mindy explaining her logic behind being at this party and the small chance of almost being killed again. "What about you Y/n? Aren't you a bit paranoid?" "Yeah, I guess. But I feel safe around you guys" you smirked. "Oh also Y/n, I don't Trust Ethan at all. He looks too innocent" "Isn't that the best part?" You laughed, Mindy with a disgusted look on her face.
"I'm gonna go stand in line for the bathroom" You blew kisses at them as you walked away, walking around to find the bathroom. You felt yourself lose balance as you walked, someone catching you as you felt liquid splash on your shirt. "Ah man, my shirt" You held onto the randos chest, trying to stay balanced. "Shit, Y/n...you okay?" You looked up with drunk eyes, Ethan looking down at you with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine. But my shirt...not so much" You frowned, blush rushing into your cheeks as you looked at him. You untied your Tee, the Maroon color splashed all over your top, making it look like someone had stabbed you. "Is that wine?" He shrugged. "I'm not sure, this girl just gave it to me" he smiled, helping you hold yourself up against the wall.
"Thanks for catching me, I'm not completely drunk, these heels are just uncomfortable to walk in" You slipped off the gold shoes, Ethan standing next to you uncomfortably. "Uhm, let's get you a new drink, yea?" "Oh, no no it's okay. I wasn't gonna drink it...uhm it's fine" he stumbled over his words quite a lot. You couldn't tell if he was just nervous or if this is just how he was all the time.
"Ethan! My man!" Chads hand slapped over the poor boy's shoulder. "Whoah...Y/n, you look like you just got attacked...again" "Very funny Chad" you glared at him. "Hey uh, not to interrupt this throuple but your services are needed" Anika turned the corner as Chad sighed. "I'm needed, I'll be back" "Throuple huh...I think I'd like to just have fun with you, E" You held back a laugh, walking away with a smile and an awkward wink.
Ethan was left a flustered and confused mess, following to find Chad. As for you, you'd finally find the bathroom. Looking at your wine-splashed shirt. It was a familiar view. But instead of blood, it was an innocent drink. You lifted your shirt, your fingers tracing over the two, deep knife scars.
You were lucky to only get two lousy scars, compared to others...you told yourself you didn't have room to complain. After all, you were alive, you made it through the night and you took it to your advantage.
You snapped out of your trance as you heard a familiar voice. Sam, oh shit. "Excuse me" You struggled to push through the crowded hall, bumping into Ethan once you got to the scene. You moving to stand by his side. "Oh shit" you cringed as Sam took her taser to the man's crotch.
"Sam? Are you fucking kidding me? You're stalking me now?" You And Ethan watched in confusion, the dude now on the floor. "Holy shit! It's that psycho girl!" The room filled with laughter, grabbing Ethan's hand as everyone chased Tara.
"Is this like a regular thing in this friend group?" The group walked in unison, you And Ethan behind everyone else. "Yea," you sighed, feet aching with your shoes in your hand. "I like your flower thingy...by the way" "Thanks, made it myself" you took it off your head, handing it to him before stealing the cardboard hat from off his. "Trade me?" "Oh uh...yea" he placed the crown on his head awkwardly, trying to fix his hair as you slipped his hat over your head.
"Looks cute on you" The pink flowers matched with his soft personality, and his flushed cheeks. You on the other hand looked very strange, getting looks from the people that were once staring at Sam and Tara.
"Tara..will you stop?" Sam struggled to catch up with her sister, Tara not giving a fuck. "I cannot believe you did that, you embarrassed me!" "That gut was a dick! He was gonna take advantage of you" "So?!" You rubbed underneath your eyes, knowing that they were about to get into an argument yet again.
It was always like this, they argue just to never make up and argue again. It's a continuous cycle that has never ended. "So?" Sam repeated in shock. "If I wanna hook up with an ass hole that's my decision?! It's my decision" "Okay.." Sam scoffed.
"It's not about you!... You..you were out of my life for 5 years and then you can't leave me alone for 5 minutes" Sams's only and most used "comeback" was that Tara wasn't going to the councilor, That she wasn't dealing with what happened to her. You wondered if she thought the same thing about you, you were worse than Tara with the subject, you had completely blocked out any idea of it with anyone. Sure everyone knew what happened in the back of their head, but it was for the best if no one mentioned it.
"Hey...guys come on" Tara ignored Chad, trying to get them to stop. Tara rambled, even you thought her words were a bit harsh. "You just follow me here and you won't let me out of your sight" "Just...trying to look out for you" You could tell Sam felt defeated, rethinking her actions. "I know...I know you are. But you can't do it for the rest of my life, you have to let me go"
Next thing you knew the smell of cherry coke filled your nose, a drink splashed all over Sam by a random girl. The two were already at it, Sam trying to aggressively go after her, Chad pulling her back. "The fuck is wrong with you?" "You know what you did!" "I didn't fucking do anything!"
You waved at Ethan to follow you, chasing behind Mindy and the rest of the group. "I'm so fucking tired of this!" Tara's eyes watered in frustration, Chad rubbed her back Anika and Mindy holding hands as they walked. You only now realized how alone you were. Sure you'd have some flirty moments with Mindy or Anika but they were purely platonic, you'd never had an actual partner.
"Y/n, I heard what you said to Ethan, not that drunk huh?" She laughed. "He knows I'm kidding...or not. Right E?" "What?" He caught up and you smiled to the ground. "You talked to my bro? Damn, I guess you two would make a good pair" Chad laughed. "No, I don't trust him. He's weird, he always stutters when he talks. He's definitely hiding something" Mindy scoffed.
"I'm right here..." "No, he's just like that with Girls, Man has never experienced female contact" Ethan rolled his eyes, sighing. Mindy also rolled her eyes, she was always stubborn, especially when she was convinced someone was dangerous. "Well I'm gay, so I don't know why he's scared of me" "Maybe cause you're really intimidating, Mindy" Tara turned back, a broken smile back on her face.
"You are...kinda really rude too" "Am not, your face is just annoying to look at" your eyes widened. "Okay you two, cut it out" You all finally got to the apartment, running into your room to take off the wet, uncomfortable shirt. You placed Ethan's hat on your bed, finding a long sleeve and pj pants to switch into.
"Hey, here's your thingy back" he knocked on the door, handing it to you. "Oh, thanks" you grabbed his hat off the bed, giving it back. "I- I think I'm just gonna take it all off, restricting" you agreed. "Yea...plus the party's already over" "I...I'm really sorry about your shirt...by the way" "It's fine, ill just order another one"
"Y/n, hey I think you're gonna wanna see this" Chad called from the living room, you And Ethan rushing to his voice. He called out to Sam who was downstairs, the two of you meeting in the living room in shock. "Cute boy...nice" Quinn smiled and you smirked.
You stared at the Tv, "Also found at the scene were various Ghost Face costumes..." you heart dropped to your ass, you could feel tears start to form in your eyes. "I'm not doing this shit again" you rushed to your room, Sam chasing behind you. "Y/n...Y/n come on we can leave, I'll get tara" "Guys! Wait no! Hold on! No wait, let's talk about this for a second" the two of you had already made your way to the kitchen, knifes in hand.
"This might not have anything to do with us" "Are you serious?" Sam asked. Great, another argument. But this time you sided with Sam. This definitely had something to do with all of you. "It's Halloween! Everybody's wearing masks" "Tara! Tara, this isn't a coincidence!" Your eyes were wide, looking at her trying to find where she found the audacity to say that.
"Tara...we knew him" you spoke up. "He was in one of our classes! We Barley knew him" She scoffed. "Chad, Mindy back us up here" your eyes creased, heart pumping as if you'd just run a marathon. "I mean it is a little bit..." "close to home..." Mindy finished his sentence. "Quinn! Your dad's a cop right? Can you call him and see what's going on? Before you make the dumb ass decision to abandon my college education, and flee the fucking state?" Everyone looked up at Quinn, her Phone to her ear as she called.
You froze as you felt your phone ring in your pocket. Everyone's eyes on you. You slowly took it out, looking at the contact. "Who is it?" You let out a small sigh of relief. "It's just Gale, probably excited about the new book opportunity" you held your face in your palms. "Why'd everyone just freak out when her phone rang?" "You gotta keep up My Dude" you felt your heart beat faster, holding back tears.
"Sam, my dad wants to talk to you" you rushed to your room, closing the door behind you. You fell against it, tears spilling out. You thought you'd finally escaped it, but now your progress was ruined, you were back at square one. It was only bound to get worse, this was just the beginning.
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moonshine-nightlight · 10 months
Text
Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Six
It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.
However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.
Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F
AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 26
[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine][Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve]  [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] Part Twenty-Six [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]
You’re grateful this gala does not require a grand entrance despite it being the last of the parties at the Governor’s house and in Connton. Instead, you're on a dais to one side of the room in a sort of receiving area. Everyone who's come to Connton but will not be going to the wedding itself on the Northridge estate has come. They all want a chance to speak to the Northridges and express their well-wishes before you leave town. You've had no moment to yourself since arriving. 
It's a real test of your memory. You've met so many new people over the course of these galas and now you must see if you can match the faces to their owners. Dale is surprisingly good at doing so, thank the light. Your notes help you to remember specific details with the names, so you end up working well with each other to ensure no one thinks you’ve forgotten them.  
You fall into an easy back and forth rhythm and you can't help how satisfied your partnership makes you feel, even if you begin to grow tired with the constant social interaction. It's been over an hour without a pause in conversation you're expected to be attentive and contributing to. Dale appears ready to continue into perpetuity, but you hope when the next round of food is announced, the unofficial line of those you need to speak with will have dwindled enough that you can stop for a time. You’ve never been so eager to join the typical press and crowd of a typical gala.
Of course, after you've spoken to those who sought you out to, there will likely be a number requesting dances with yourself or Dale. You can only hope that's after the food as you've once more reached the part of the evening where your anxiety has been quelled by weariness. 
Something bumps your hand and you turn to see Dale offering you a goblet of wine, light and cool. You smile gratefully at him, murmuring your thanks and unsure why the kind gesture brings heat to your face. You sip on the drink, your throat thankful and your mind appreciating the reprieve from talking as Dale brings your current discussion away from the intricacies of divining new mineral deposits and onto the wine. You're able to hum appreciatively in all the right places and the couple moves on with a polite smile.
Dale presses close to you, leaning over to peer into your nearly empty wine glass. "Another?"
You shake your head, resisting the urge to lean into him. The evening's just begun, you remind yourself, it's too early to be tired. "I am fine for now."
"I'll be fine once it is time for the main course," Dale grumbles good-naturedly. "Grandmother ushered us up here so quickly I could snatch nothing more than a single roll."
"I think the crowd around us is thinning," you attempt to console him. Dale is nearly always hungry, or so it seems to you, but he isn't wrong. Between the meeting this afternoon to discuss the assassins, the preparations for this final gala, and then being whisked away to hosting duties as soon as you arrived, you two haven't had a meal since breakfast a little before noon. "The later crowd should not gather until after supper."
"Thank the stars for that," Dale mutters as he takes your goblets to leave them on a side table. "This day has been nothing but talks and discussions."
"I agree," you say. "I do believe the musicians Grandmother hired for the wedding arrived in town tonight and shall be playing at this gala."
"Oh? Good, good.” Dale looks cheered by the prospect of some physical activity as you’d hoped. “I know some of our guests are already filling our dance cards, but the first few I intend not to give away." 
You know he's probably only looking forward to not having to make conversation, but you like to imagine he also simply would appreciate your company. "I agree." You share a smile with him.
You look away only so as to locate the next guest and finish, itching even more for this first round of focused socializing to end. Instead you hear a familiar voice greeting Grandmother. You stiffen, but at the same time, you're grateful that this final shoe has dropped. You've spent all evening anticipating your family's arrival. At the same time, you're still surprised to see your mother speaking with Grandmother, your father at her side and your brother on the other. 
You can feel Dale turn with you, but you can't look away. Has it truly only been a couple months since you were last living with them in your home fief? It feels like so much longer. 
Your father meets your eyes first and you can see he also needs a second to take you in. He looks the same as always, the crisp lines of his naval uniform that he prefers to wear for any event is as neat as always, the buttons shined to perfection. It's you who has changed. Still, he smiles, tilting his head for you to join them.
You start toward them automatically and glance up at Dale when you sense him following. His eyes are fixed on them and from the way his bearing and attention have sharpened, you know you don't need to tell them who they are. 
"...cannot be helped, of course," your mother is saying to Grandmother.
"Of course," Grandmother says sympathetically. "We are pleased you were able to make this gala if that is what you have been dealing with."
You only hesitate when you get closer, habit telling you to stand behind your father, but you take your correct place at Grandmother's left. You’re surprised to see your oldest brother is here as well. As the inheriting lord, he had every reason to stay at home given your parents’ presence. Your mother's eyes land on you immediately, you can feel her looking you over, but it's your father who speaks first.
“You look lovely, my child." His smile is minimal, but his voice is quiet and warm. He’s where you get your desire to avoid the spotlight from. He’s more than happy to stand in your mother’s shadow at events and he was the one who often employed your ill health to excuse himself from events he couldn't get out of with other obligations when in the country. When you were feeling up for it, he would read to you. On the other hand, if you were too ill, he could never bring himself to stay long. 
“Thank you, Father.” You try to push down the return of feeling like a child play acting an adult, something you haven't felt in weeks. Your hand still can't help but smooth your skirts before you meet your mother's eyes. 
"You do," your mother confirms, her expression schooled politeness as it always is at public events. It makes it hard for even you to read her. "Even if it surprises my mother's heart to see you in your betrotheds' colors rather than our own. They suit you well."
"Thank you, Mother,” you reply, more focused on your role as a host than fully absorbing her comment, though it echoes one of your own thoughts when you first donned your Northridge dress. Since Father and Grandmother Northridge were the ones who arranged this marriage contract while Dale was away, none of your family has actually met him. You gesture to Dale. “Please allow me to introduce Lord Dale of Northridge, my fiancé.” Dale bows as you continue. “Lord Dale, allow me to introduce my parents, Lord Henry and Lady Fiore of Portsmith, and my brother Lord Asher."
Everyone murmurs pleasantries and greetings while you wait for your nerves to relax. It looks like Asher left his wife home to manage the fief, but did bring at least some of his children, who you can see behind him. You spot your older sister as well, with her husband and heir, all the way from Khinat, but they’re speaking with a few other guests nearby.
Grandmother, and Grandfather move to greet them with Asher acting as the spokesperson for your family, allowing you a moment with your parents. Your mother clasps your arms, making a bit of a show of looking you up and down, before she pulls you into a quick embrace that ends nearly as soon as it started. “I’m pleased you're doing well,” she says quietly enough only you can hear. “I’d been worried about you, away from us.”
You flush. “Mother, I’ve been away longer for school.”
“It is not the same,” she insists, but refuses to elaborate. She steps back and frowns at your dress. “While the colors are lovely, your sleeves are too short,” your mother tuts. “You must be having chills with these.” She gives one of your short sleeves a small tug. “I know they are the fashion now, but you mustn’t neglect your health. Do you have a shawl? Obviously not, or you’d have worn it. I shall have one over to you tomorrow. We’ll ensure the rest of your clothing is sent to Northridge once we return.”
You resist the urge to sigh, to say anything about her own fashionable dress. You merely wait for her to finish speaking her piece. “Thank you, Mother.”
“This gala looks lovely,” Mother continues, looking around with sharp but pleased eyes. “Most befitting such an occasion for Northridge,” she nods graciously at Dale, but continues before he can reply. “I’ve never been to Connton, but it's a charming city. We had some difficulties with the weather and some troublemakers on the river, so it is relieving to have arrived. Although I suppose we have yet to make the final ride tomorrow.”
‘Troublemakers’ likely means folks upset about a tax raise who tried to hold up the boat when they saw the family flags flying, saying those who levied said taxes were aboard. Mother had all sorts of euphemisms for various spots of danger or attacks that might occur. ‘Troublemakers’ meant no one was injured or else they would have been ‘ruffians’. As far as you know, they are not common codewords and exist primarily to keep up appearances.
Dale sees his opportunity and says, “The ride is an easy one, only a day or two depending primarily on how quickly the traffic in and out of the city is moving.”
“Very good,” Mother says. “Are there proper wayhouses betwixt your estate and this city? Given all of our travels, we are likely to leave later and I’ve no desire to ride much in a day or overnight.” Mother gets sick to her stomach if she spends too much time in a carriage, you remember. She’s likely bothered that they can’t continue to sail. 
“Yes,” Dale answers before you can. “I can provide the name of where we stay if we stop for the night. We’ll be leaving early enough tomorrow that we won’t be stopping. My understanding from speaking with other guests is that many will arrive gradually throughout the week so it should not be overcrowded.” There will be dinners each night on the estate, but no more formal galas until the wedding. You cannot wait for the lull of social activity before you must be put on a stage.
“Wonderful,” Mother says with a smile up at Dale. She glances around for her secretary who starts to make her way over once Mother makes eye contact with her. “We had meant to inquire sooner, but had never anticipated being so delayed.”
Dale dutifully relates the necessary travel information to her, without you needing to say a thing. Once she has the information not only about the wayhouse, but also regarding what wing of the estate your family will be staying, Mother bustles away with her secretary to ensure your siblings and their families receive the same details, Nevermind waiting to do so in the morning or trusting her secretary to speak with theirs. Nevermind if any of them had planned to leave earlier or stay in Connton an additional day or so.  She’ll want the family to all stay together.She leaves, but not before saying, “And I shall check to see if we’ve brought along a spare shawl for you.”
You give your father a look and he nods before following her, so there’s hope she won’t actually return with one to give you. You stay where you are, needing a moment to recollect yourself after seeing them again.
Dale’s quiet voice, leaned close for just you to hear, interrupts your thoughts, “It is not cold and her sleeves…” You wave off his logical points about the fact that it is nearly halfway through Hectary and Mother’s own sleeves were short before he can make them. “Do not try to make sense of it. I’m receiving a shawl now and there would have been no persuading her otherwise.”
“As you say.” Dale sounds confused and skeptical, but he doesn’t argue with you. It is too much to try to explain that Mother often thought your fits were motivated by cold since they at times resembled shivers. She often tried to dress you far more warmly than the occasion called for and had only mildly backed off after you had heat exhaustion once while home on holiday a couple years ago. 
A tug on your hand draws your attention to your niece, who you’re guessing is allowed to attend this gala for a couple hours and only on her best behavior. Naturally, she’s snuck away from Asher’s side already. Ten year old Rose had followed you around the family house when you returned from schooling a year ago, suddenly fascinated by you. She’d actually been upset when you left for Northridge and refused to say goodbye.
Instead of greeting you or introducing herself, she narrows her eyes, looking suspiciously from you to Dale. "This is who you are marrying?"
"Hello to you as well, Rose,” you say, but she just crosses her arms with a huff. Deciding that it is not your job to teach her manners—especially not when you feel she is only choosing to ignore them, not ignorant of them—you simply answer her question. “Yes, this is Lord Dale.” Turning to Dale, you explain, “Rose is my niece, Asher’s youngest."
"Pleased to meet you Lady Rose," Dale says with a short bow.
Rose blinks before executing a perfunctory curtsy, though it does nothing to diminish her frown. "You're not what I expected," she says bluntly. 
"Rose," you admonish. This is pushing it, even for a child at one of her first events such as this. You have seen her deal politely with guests at the house before and have no idea what could be compelling her to be so rude. Not to mention you've not seen Dale interact with any children and have no idea how he will take her attitude. After all, he didn't grow up with siblings underfoot nor their children. 
"In what way?" Dale asks instead, only sounding curious.
Rose hums, tapping her chin in an exaggerated mimic of Asher that you feel some of your frustration melting. If Dale's not put off, and your Mother is out of earshot, then you don’t mind indulging her to an extent. It’s curious to see her almost suspicious on your behalf. Whether or not you usher her back to her father’s side will depend on her answer to Dale’s question. "You're too tall," she proclaims as if that contained all her criticism distilled to one comment.
You blink in surprise, but Dale laughs. "My apologies, but I've no way to change that."
"I suppose," Rose replies grudgingly. She bites her lip, looking between you two, a question clearly on her mind. "Can I visit? Even after you're married?"
"Of course," you say with a frown. While you’d not been allowed to travel out of your home fief when you were young, most noble children often visited cousins and extended family members before formal schooling at an institution. "Why wouldn't you be able to?"
Rose shrugs. "Father said that things change after a person marries. That you might be too busy."
"I would never be too busy for you.”
"He said, it would be his," she points at Dale, "house and so he might not want me to."
You suppose you could see your brother's point. He likely said that more out of an abundance of caution and knowing couples prefer some time to themselves to settle in. Perhaps he was even trying to give you an excuse ahead of time if you’d didn’t want a nosy niece underfoot. However, you do not like the implication you would need Dale's permission for your family to visit. You open your mouth to say so, but you're not the one who answers her.
"Nonsense," Dale says, clearly confused. "With our marriage, it will be our house. Any family of my spouse would my family as well. You are welcome to visit as you please, though I'd caution you to send word ahead of time. We'll be touring the fief in our first year."
"Truly?" Rose asks before grinning, not waiting for confirmation. "Thank you!"
"You also need your parent's permission," you add, knowing exactly how her mind works. Predictably, she pouts. "But we would love to have you. Tell me what you have been up to since we last spoke. You never answered my last letter."
"I'm sorry," Rose says dutifully, but she isn’t truly bothered. "I always forget. It's half finished. Everything was boring until Aunt Callalily came. Come on, you have to meet Sara and Kanti.”
“I’ve already met them,” you point out, but take her hand anyway. “So have you.”
“But they were just babies then,” Rose says dismissively as she pulls you over. “Now they’re almost real people.” Dale laughs and Rose grins, always pleased to entertain an adult. Your heart warms at Dale’s indulgence of her, grateful you do not have the original Dale who likely would have dismissed her outright.
You follow her over to your siblings and find that your other sister and her husband are here as well. Introductions fly around as you all fulfill etiquette’s demands. Your nieces and nephews end up sneaking away before you can see how much any of them have grown. Dale ends up talking to your father and brother, but you are able to talk with your sisters. 
“Douglas is coming?” you ask, unable to keep your surprise to yourself when you learn from them that your remaining brother is going to be at the wedding too. All four of your siblings will come, you’d never thought… “I thought he was stationed on the northern border for the rest of the year. Fort Rhimer.”
“He is,” your oldest sister, Callalily, confirms. “However, knights are allowed leave,” she says, as if your surprise is what’s odd. “A family wedding is more than an acceptable reason to take such. We are not at war. He is more than capable of leaving his command for a fortnight or two.”
“Of course, I simply did not think…” You just didn’t think he’d bother to come. Douglas is the sibling you saw and knew the least, with him having been off in the capital for training or on active military duty for most of your life. Perhaps he wants to take leave for other reasons and saw this as a convenient opportunity. Or maybe he wants to see the rest of the family. “Well, I’ll be happy to see him.”
“Yes, it's been too long,” Marigold, the sister closest in age to you, but who is closer still to Douglas. She’s nearly a decade older than you are. “Douglas is too focused on his career and would do well to take more time to enjoy the rest of what life has to offer. And to see us, of course. He neglects his family.” 
“Hush,” Callalily rolls her eyes and makes a show of looking around. “Don’t let Mother hear you or you’ll be treated to another lecture on the importance of a noble’s getting married, even though we are already married.” 
Your mother is still off somewhere else, but everyone’s making their way down from the dais to join the gala proper. You’re still a little nervous with your family around, that you’re not sure how much you’ll actually end up eating, but you’d like to get away from even this minor stage. Callalily must agree as she leads the two of you over to one of the buffet tables. “No doubt she shall be searching this gala for eligible matches the entire night, especially since he is the only one of her children left who is not even betrothed.” 
Marigold laughs. You used to be envious of how effortless she makes everything look. If you tried to wear that bright red scarf with its foreign patterns, even if it matched your dress like hers does, you’d only look out of place and awkward. She has the ability to keep abreast with current trends and styles and play them to her advantage. She has an eye for fashion even if, as a sculptor, she primarily uses no color in her work.
Even Callalily who should look out of place in her Khinat dress manages to only look elegant and interesting as a diplomat should. Your plainer clothes, especially growing up as you only had a few nice dresses given your shyness and often inability to attend more important events, had always left you feeling more than a step behind your worldly older sisters. “Oh, I wonder if he’s realized that now, given the wedding we’re attending.” Marigold leans over and gives you a hug around the shoulders. “Our youngest, all grown up. He’s going to regret coming, isn’t he?”
You’ve often felt cut off from your siblings, being so much younger than them. Now, this gala is for you, for your wedding that you’re helping to host in your lovely Northridge dress. It's fun to be included in the joke with your sisters. To feel like you’re within reach of the same plateau of ‘proper adult’ as they are. “Perhaps.” You smile back at her. “Maybe Mother will succeed in her matchmaking.”
Marigold stifles a snort. “Oh, yes, and then perhaps he will fly back to the fort on the wings of such a mystical love.”
Callalily swats gently at Marigold’s arm, but she’s smiling. “We didn’t think he’d holdout long enough to be the last one, did we?” She looks over the hors d'oeuvres laid out as she decides what to eat. You find you’re not ready to have anything after all. “Who knows what will happen?” 
She turns to you and you’re surprised to have her attention at such an event. Callalily always tries to have at least one longer conversation with you when she visits, but she doesn’t often seek out your opinion in a group, or even at dinner. “How are you faring?” Her eyebrows tilt down in sympathy, a common look she’s given you—one that always makes you feel like a child, though you know she means nothing by it. “I hope these preparations have not been too much for you. Or did the Northridges’ take care of everything?” She doesn’t give you a chance to answer, before she looks at Marigold with a smirk. “I must admit, it would be novel to think of a wedding for one of us that Mother did not try to manage all of.”
You know she sees you as someone still ill, someone who tires easily and is overwhelmed easily, but you thought she could see you’ve moved past that. She’s the one who encouraged you to pick your own school, your own courses of study. Did she think you were still so moldable to even the family you were marrying? Or did she think the Northridges were overbearing? You’d not thought she had any particular thoughts or opinions on them.
“Your fault for getting married first,” Marigold says to Callalily. “My fault for getting married to someone without their own mother to fight her off. And Asher’s fault for being the heir. Only you have been so lucky.” She winks at you. You wonder if that’s truly the reason because you remember the arguments and control Mother had sought to exercise over your other siblings' weddings. It was why you’d been almost expecting her to come with you to Northridge, even though it was uncommon for a parent of a betrothed to come with them to stay with the family they are marrying into. Mother hadn’t pushed to be involved, besides ensuring you had all you needed, shawls aside. 
You think she’s more committed to acting as though everything is typical, to show too much of her traditional concern over your health. She’d been extremely concerned regarding your health reports and how they might taint a prospective marriage. You hope she’ll continue to act as if she isn’t worried about your health or a relapse, but you don’t know how you feel about it once more resulting in treatment other than what your siblings received. Even if you don’t want her to interfere with the wedding.
“That luck is likely to be running out,” Callalily cautions. “Now that she’s arrived.”
“Everything’s already settled,” you protest, hoping you weren’t wrong about her overstepping to manage what you and the Northridges have well in hand. 
“Not sure that will stop Mother if she sees something she feels is missing,” Marigold teases. “You know how she is when she sees a problem she feels she knows how to solve.”
She’s not wrong and you anxiously peer around to see if Mother’s returned. Callalily’s hand on your arm brings your focus back to her. “We shall keep her busy as best as we are able,” Callalily reassures you. “I’m certain you’ve enough to worry about without Mother’s particular style of assistance. She truly hasn’t said anything about the wedding preparations. I believe she is merely delighted to see you wed. I’m not sure she’d thought…” Callalily trails off but you hear the words regardless. Thought to see you marry at all. All your family had thought you’d not live past thirteen, the age at which your aunt had died. “Well, the wedding itself is not her worry. Discussing your health, in private, is likely on the table.”
Mother was the one who managed your doctors and treatments while you grew up. She would go through different phases of how involved she was and what she left to the individual doctors, but she always pushed for new techniques and options to be tested. She’ll likely have some new compound she wants you to take to ensure your condition doesn’t resurge or simply to enhance overall health. “Of course,” you acknowledge ruefully. “I only hope I do not have to talk her out of substances that are actually poisonous once more.” Half of what you’re learned about medicine was defensive, not mere curiosity on your part, due to Mother’s willingness to experiment.
“To her credit,” Marigold says with a grin, obviously remembering the incident a few years ago since she had been visiting them at the time. “I knew a number of people who were using belladonna as well. They were all very convinced of the therapeutic benefits if one did not use too much.” 
“Your people—artists—are always so ready to believe beauty is pain,” Callalily says with a smirk before helping herself to a stuffed mushroom. 
“Oh yes, only us artists could be so vain.” Marigold rolls her eyes. “And how long did it take your maid to do your hair up in this manner?”
You eye the beautiful and elaborate braids Callalily has her hair in, she even has a few strands of jewelry in that make her chestnut hair look particularly lustrous. It must have taken hours. “The usual amount,” Callalily says with a sniff.
“Of course,” Marigold replies. She never takes anything too seriously nor does she hold Callalily’s, or anyone’s, teases or criticisms against her. “I did want to compliment the work. It truly is lovely.”
“Thank you.” Callalily smiles and then reaches out to touch one of your curls. “Yours are sweet, I hope you do not follow Marigold’s example.” You feel younger in your basic hairstyle, but at least you know you won’t need to respond.
“My hair is fine,” Marigold says quickly enough. “Covered, as propriety dictates.”
“It’s still down,” Callalily tuts.
“And no one has fainted from the sight, since it is covered,” Marigold reiterates. “I have to have my hair pinned up so precisely and tightly to my head when I work that I cannot abide having it done so when it can be helped.”
“Why not cover it while you work?” 
“It does not work as well,” Marigold insists around a piece of bread and some cheese, a hand to cover her mouth while she rebuts Callalily. “All my scarves get covered in clay and I overheat.”
“It’s hot enough in this ballroom.” Callalily reaches for a fresh glass to drink, passing one to Marigold and to you. 
Your pleasure at the lack of hesitation in her inclusion of you is overshadowed by the reminder of your mother’s intentions. “Mother hasn’t returned with a shawl for me, has she?”
“No…” Marigold frowns, looking baffled. “Why would she? It’s a week into Hectary with nary a sea breeze to cool us.”
“You know how she feels about our sibling and chills,” Callalily reminds Marigold before looking back at you. “No, I believe she’s returned and is speaking with the Governor. If she had found a shawl to foist upon you, she would have done so before joining that conversation.”
“Thank the light,” you mutter and take a sip of the wine she’d handed you.
“You poor thing,” Marigold coos. “She’d have stifled you. I’ve no notion how you put up with her fussing.”
“Yes, truly. I managed to have her stop by the time I left for schooling.” Callalily doesn’t mean to sound scolding but you can’t help feeling like she is. “You should assert yourself more clearly with her.”
Callalily’s never understood how differently Mother treats you than she does your other siblings. She doesn’t see that you could behave identically to how Callalily did when she was your age and not be permitted the same leeway. “She does not listen.”
“You must make her,” Callalily says, as if it is that easy. As if you have not tried. “She’ll never see you as grown if you do not.” You know that too, but you can’t seem to get through to Mother. You’re not sure you ever will be able to. And you’re tired of attempting so.
“Well, it will cease to be much of a problem going forward, will it not?” Marigold asks. “Fussing during Solstices is easy enough to manage.”
You miss what Callalily says in reply because your eyes catch sight of an unnatural shadow. A long tail cuts across the ballroom floor and you follow it back to where Dale stands with Grandfather and your brother. You reverse, looking to see where it leads and spot the end on the buffet. It’s reared up onto the table and you swear there is a mouth on the end of it, trying to steal some cheese. 
Your heart pounds at this blatant display. Someone’s going to notice sooner rather than later. How can you get Dale to be more subtle? He’s going to worry you to an early grave, illness be damned.
You need a reason to squash it or cover it up. Your eyes land on a familiar figure at a nearby table and you blurt out without thinking, “Lady Breighton!” She somehow hears you over the noisy crowd and looks over at you. In too deep, you link your arm with Marigold’s. Your sisters look startled and confused by your outburst, but you simply smile at them. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to Dale’s aunt. She’s an avid admirer of sculpture, Marigold, and I’m certain she would enjoy conversing with you.”
“Oh, of course, ” Marigold still seems surprised that you’re the one trying to bring more people into a conversation, but she can’t resist talking about her art. She grins. “I’d be happy to.”
You head over to Breighton, keeping Marigold on one side and the buffet on the other side. Callalily slides her arm into Marigold’s other arm, which helpfully puts both of them further from the more obvious end of Dale’s most recent slip up. You can see that everyone seems to step over the shadow without thought, as if they instinctively know they shouldn’t touch it.
You deliberately step on the shadow tendril while simultaneously disposing of your napkin directly on top of the little mouth at the end. The texture of the shadow under your foot is somewhere between what you imagine a snake would feel like and pudding. It is profoundly unsettling. You're grateful you haven’t had anything to eat after all. You don’t look at Dale, but you’re relieved you don’t hear any sort of sound to signify what you did hurt him over much.
You concentrate so much on not looking at Dale that you introduce your sisters to Breighton without much thought, relying on the etiquette lessons drilled into you to get through it. Breighton does appear to pay greater attention when you mention Marigold’s passion, so you’re glad you didn’t guess wrong about her interest.
Only once the conversation has started, do you dare chance a look back over to Dale. He’s standing just where he had been, but there’s no longer a shadow connected to the buffet. He looks perfectly ordinary once more and you breathe a sigh of relief. Taking a grateful drink of the water glass Breighton has handed you, you can’t help but hope this gala is done sooner rather than later.
[Part Twenty-Seven]
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Hello! So so happy to see you back here, I missed the reactions! I hope you're doing okay!
I don't remember if you've already written this, but I would like to read how HL Characters will react when MC propose to them (such a sappy, I know 😅)
HLC REACT TO MC PROPOSING
A/N: I LIVE for soft sappy nonsense, life needs a little more of it
Everything was perfect. The date, the location, the company. MC had been planning this for months, waiting for things to be just right. Finally the moment came for them to get down on one knee and present their lover with the question that would bind or break them... "Will you marry me?"
~~~
SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He stares a moment, stunned. Then he stamps his foot. "Oh come on! You beat me to it!" His face scrunches into a pout and he folds his arms, turning slightly away from MC. His tantrum abruptly ends when MC stands up looking upset. He sighs and takes their hands.
"I suppose I-...I suppose I wanted to be the one to ask you. See your face light up with delight. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. I will gladly marry you. The fact you even look my way makes me the luckiest wizard alive." He gently pulls MC to him and kisses them.
OMINIS GAUNT: He processes the question with a stoic expression. His wand examines his surroundings; showing him MC on their knee presenting a ring, even the landscape with his field of 'vision'. He commits to memory every sensation from temperature to wind to humidity.
Perhaps he paused too long, MC was starting to shift. He smiles and kneels in front of them. "Of course I will marry you, my love. I need you in my life like I need air to breathe." He offers his hand to allow MC to place the ring on his finger. He doesn't get a moment to admire it before he's blindsided by a tackle to the ground. MC kissing him through the sunset.
ANNE SALLOW: The breath is stolen from her lungs. She silently screams and moves around in place. The happiness in her heart making her dance. She finally gets her breath back and shouts at the top of her lungs. "YES!! BY ALL THE GODS, YES!"
She can barely stand still enough for MC to put the ring on her. Once it's securely on, she grabs MC's face and kisses them hard, only pulling back to breath before going in for another.
IMELDA REYES: She's internally screaming. Is it too soon? Was she really ready for this? She took the relationship seriously, of course, but now that the question has been presented. She finds herself experiencing what can only be described at STAGEFRIGHT. This was a first. She's never been afraid to perform. She's always had the last laugh. She's always had a quick comeback, she could roll with the punches like no other.
But what does she do now? Are her hands shaking? STOP THAT! Why isn't her body listening to her? How long has she been standing there like a frightened deer? MC is starting to look concerned. SAY SOMETHING! "...Nyoes..." Nailed it.
NATSAI ONAI: "Oh MC..." She's tearing up. She's been looking forward to this for a long time. She takes their face in her hands and kisses them sweetly before letting them put the ring on her.
She takes a moment to admire the ring. It's everything she could ever want; not too gaudy, not too simple. She holds MC close, enjoying the warmth of the moment. "...so who are inviting to the wedding?" She giggles when she feels MC sieze up. Now they get to wedding plan.
GARRETH WEASLEY: He's a little distracted by an herb growing out of a rock and doesn't notice MC was actually on their knee. "I'll absolutely marry you." He responds without looking up. "Would you help me extract this-" He turns to see MC giving him a deadpanned look of annoyance. "Oh...oh dear."
He bashfully puts the rock down and takes MC's hand. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to be dismissive. I get so excited over projects that I sometimes miss what's right in front of me." He places a hand on MC's cheek. "And what's right in front of me is the love of my life. I will proudly wear your ring and call you mine."
LEANDER PREWETT: His hands fly up to cover his mouth and he can't stop the absolute waterfall coming out of his eyes. It's happening, it's FINALLY happening. His mom will be so proud of him.
He doesn't even look at the ring, his watery eyes are locked on MC. He kisses them, getting tears all over their cheeks. Both need to clean their face but it's one of the happiest kisses he's ever given.
AMIT THAKKAR: He laughs lightly and kneels in front of MC. He presents his own ring. "I was going to ask you as well tonight, but you were a little faster." They exchange rings and lay down together under the darkening sky as the stars slowly appear.
He couldn't be happier. This was the best day of his life by far. Holding MC under the night sky they've studied together since they were kids. Feels poetic. His mind wanders to their upcoming wedding. He wonders if he can convince MC to have a traditional Indian marriage ceremony.
EVERETT CLOPTON: His eyes are as big as saucers. He looks from MC to ring and back again over and over to ensure he wasn't seeing things before he thrusts his fist in the air in celebration. "YES!"
He grabs MC, picks them up and spins them around. He dips them and kisses them silly before finally letting them upright to breathe. MC almost dropped the ring. He puts it on before they lose it and smirks. "And people said I'd never earn your affections. Oh, how wrong they were."
POPPY SWEETING: She looks at the empty box MC presented them with. "Was something supposed to be in there or is this a cruel joke?" She asks with a raised eyebrow. She watches MC panic that they've somehow lost the ring when she notices a bush rustling out of the corner of her eye.
She goes over to find a small blue-green niffler. She grabs the small beast by the foot and holds it up to MC. "I think I found the culprit." She tickles the treasure right out of it, and sure enough, a single ring falls out amongst the coins and shiny rocks. She takes the ring and let's the niffler collect it's treasure back.
"I love it, MC." She hugs MC close and looks up into their eyes. "I love you."
The niffler huffs and blows a raspberry at the couple before disappearing into the bushes.
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spacetime-storytime · 1 month
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also to follow on from my last post i love how the tone of the musical completely shifts after the "doing this" scene. you can physically feel that curt's emotional state is now lighter. "one more shot" starts by calling back to "spy again" with the "and another" motif. is it about to turn into a reprise? no. we're reminded of what curt was like before he had friends - defeated, hopeless and without purpose. but now he has friends! so what would've been a sad scene becomes 4 straight minutes of having a good time. every other line in "spy again" was about owen. now, with real friends around him, curt doesn't need to hold onto the memory of someone who isn't actually there anymore. "owen would want me to do this so i know that i'll get through it" vs "if i feel weak i know you'll pick up my slack, if you fall you know i've got your back". remember kids, having friends will turn your sad solo into a ridiculously catchy 4-part dance number.
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cho-aaacho · 4 months
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When the Sun is Shining Again
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Masterlist
Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Waltzing, Dancing Together, Living Together, Multiple Kisses, Rainy Day, Soft Gojo, Sweet Talker reader.
Summary: An old melody, a blurred silhouette. A weak way of life really isn't cool, you know?
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"Darling, do you have any memories attached to you? Some feelings in your heart leave a sensation. I want to go back to that time."
"Memories?" He turns around, his azure eyes gracing you. His memory was floating somewhere, like a white feather in the clear morning sky. 
You smiled at him, caressing his jawline while sealing a tender kiss on his nose. Then you wrapped your arm around his neck and savored the last drop of his sweet perfume. You playfully ran your fingers through his hair. Feeling his beautiful silver on your fingers.
"I have one," you started, caressing the contour of his nose and whispering. "I was the only child. Every time I finished reading a book, my mom would give me a Pokemon card. It's an ultra-rare card, and I'm so happy about it! And you? What about you, Satoru-kun?"
You lifted your head from his shoulder and settled yourself on his lap, trying to find his best answer. When you lifted your head, you could sense a glimpse of disappointment, sadness, sorrow, and longing on his face.
"Oh, my dear, you don't have to tell me if you're uncomfortable, Satoru-kun. I'm sorry,"
You mused and touched his nose tip. "You deserve to be happy, even when the world around you treats you badly; remember that there's someone who truly cares about you."
"Thank you," he nodded. He noticed that you almost cried after seeing his expression.
He wasn't sure why he was reacting that way. It's extremely rare for him to express his sadness to his partner. He is so warm and always surrounded by vibrant yellow.
After all, no one can change fate, and shedding tears over the past is completely unnecessary.
You get up from his lap and leave a kiss on his cheek, gliding gently to the kitchen to bring two cups of hot chocolate. 
Satoru gazes at you for a while as he is distracted by the backdrop of rain-smeared windows. Your radiant smile enveloped him as you drew closer and handed him the hot chocolate with marshmallows on top.
"I sense a wave of nostalgia," he began, gently patting your head.
Then he continued, "The weather, hot chocolate, and your earlier questions—it's not that I didn't want to discuss them. I've come to accept that I can't erase my past or bring back someone from death. But as long as you're here with me, that's all I need."
"Ah, Satoru-kun, don't mention that. You make me cry, you know that?"
You respond with a gentle smile, and following his gaze to the window, the rain persists heavily. It's so cold; to be honest, you always hate rain in the evening. Even the delicious warmth of hot chocolate doesn't seem to help enough.
He draws nearer, his shoulder brushing against yours, touching each other like a magnet. The melody of raindrops is followed by his soft humming, creating a romantic attraction between you and him.
"Anyway," he added with a giggle, "do you still remember the first waltz we did in high school?"
"Eh? Why bring that up? Of course, I do. You're a good dancer," you tease, pinching his cheek. Because you know very well that Satoru is so bad at dancing.
"Your moves are a bit weird. I still remember that Kusakabe-kun is laughing at you."
He yelling. "Hey, don't mention Kusakabe! I'm a good dancer, you know. I've mastered a simple waltz from Ijichi."
"Ijichi-kun good at waltz? Wow, I didn't know that. So, as proof of Ijichi-kun's talent, maybe you can show me your skills? I know you'd love that, handsome."
He smiled gently. "Alright, I'll show you."
He glided with a cute gesture. You still sense awkwardness in his movement, but you are trying to hold your laughter because he appears so enthusiastic. 
He gently extends his hand, reaching yours, and guides you to follow his steps. Satoru squeezes your waist gently, feeling his warmth against your skin.
His azure eyes pierced toward yours as you swayed from side to side, following his gaze. You nestled your head on his neck, longing to be closer to him, to sniff his aroma, and to feel his breath against yours.
"See, I'm an expert," he whispered, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek and brushing his nose on your skin.
He is sealing a brief kiss. Repeating the gesture, he pulled your body close. Fold his arm around your waist. A soft moan escaped from his lips, adding a touch of passion to the moment.
The kiss was a blend of sweetness, passion, desire, longing, and intimacy.
"Uh—sorry if I got carried away."
"Satoru-kun, darling, is a fast learner, heh? I should have baked a cake for Ijichi-kun as a thank you."
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endlessnightlock · 4 months
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I began a story for the This Would Have Happened Anyway Challenge but didn't get it done in time to submit it. So I wrote a little more, and maybe you would call this a drabble? I don't know. I'm posting it here because it's a drop of water in my personal writing desert.
In Panem, canon-divergent. Everlark married instead of Quarter Quell Reaping.
"Are you coming downstairs soon?" 
Katniss is standing outside our bedroom door, watching me, her hand pressed to the frame, half in, half out. I was startled at her voice, unaware of her presence, and she smiled at the reaction. We've only been married and living together for a few weeks, and it's reassuring she knows me so well. It makes me feel better about our situation. 
I wasn't startled because it was Katniss there, catching me off guard—it was a knee-jerk reaction. I tend to get lost inside my head and zone out, and after years of Mother's insults (are you stupid? Why didn't you answer me?) slung my way like daggers, defense is my natural response. 
Licking her lips, she shrugs. "Your brother is here."
Ah. Now I know precisely why Katniss sought me out. At the ridiculous wedding reception thrown for us by President Snow, Rye pulled me aside to tell me he was planning to come by once we had a few days to settle in. Bring over some of my things from the bakery and a few things our parents want me to have now that I am a married man. Or a forcibly wed, frightened seventeen-year-old. You know, whichever way you choose to look at it. I digress. Katniss and I didn't choose this route. But I love her; she cares for me, and we're keeping our families safe. 
Back to Rye. He and I discussed it moments before our families left to catch the train back to Twelve—because even a victor's relations are limited on time they're allowed outside the District. This conversation was weeks ago, and I forgot about it. The memory lapse isn't like me, but I think it can be forgiven, considering how difficult it is to breathe under President Snow's intense scrutiny. I don't know how we'll spend the rest of our lives under his thumb. Who knows. Maybe we won't live long enough to find out. 
"Oh. Okay," I say. My eyes flit from Katniss's profile to the sketchbook in my lap. I feel like I need to collect my thoughts before seeing my brother. "Would you tell him I'll be down in a few minutes?" I venture. It's more a question than an answer.
She frowns. That's her answer: a firm no, Peeta. I won't hang out alone with your brother while you keep drawing. "Do you want me to send him up?" she suggests—more of a threat than a question.
"No, just give me a minute," I say, carefully closing up and laying my sketchbook on the side table before sliding off the mattress. I don't want to be cornered by my brother in our bedroom. Rye's itching to badger me with questions I sure as hell don't have any answers to.
She groans, and I laugh under my breath. If we were close enough, she'd pinch my side or smack my arm for finding humor in her misery. My family is standoffish with Katniss, and her response is in kind. "I'll wait for you," she says. 
Of course, she will. I'm like a security blanket for her.
"Well, don't just stand there gawking at me from the doorway," I say, bending over and grabbing yesterday's pants off the floor. I should have been up and around hours ago, but last night was horrible, and it took forever to fall asleep. 
"Fine," she says, stepping inside the room and pulling the door mostly shut behind her, keeping her eyes averted until I buckle my pants over my undershorts and put on a clean shirt. I raise my eyebrows in amusement. 
We're still dancing around each other. Not used to these close quarters. Sharing the same bedroom, sleeping in the same bed. Dressing in front of each other. Maybe I should make an effort to cover up more. I don't know. Being in my underclothes doesn't bother her when we go to bed. We curl around each other, seeking solace in each other's arms, keeping the darkness at bay. It's not the blackness of the night but rather those dark thoughts invading our minds like wind in the trees. Unpredictable, tangible.
"You don't have to look away. I don't mind if you see me," I remind her.
"Yeah, yeah. We've had this conversation before." 
That makes me smile.
"Are you going to yammer on or go into the bathroom and brush your teeth?"
Playfully, I cup my hands in front of my mouth and blow air into them. "Hmmm. Maybe I should leave them be. My morning breath might be enough to keep Rye from showing up here unannounced."
Katniss rolls her eyes. "I doubt that. Boys are gross."
She's not wrong. I've smelled much worse than Rye's bad breath living at home with my family. When we were still in wrestling, he'd pin me to the floor, squat over my head, and fart in my face. I shudder at the memory.
"What?" she asks.
I wave her question off. "Believe me. You don't want to know. You could go ahead and head downstairs—I'll only be a minute, I promise."
"Uh, no. I'll wait for you."
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