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someonegoood · 1 month ago

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I’m not a kid! pt. 2 ✫ jeon jungkook

in which you’ve always had a hopeless crush on your brother’s best friend, Jungkook, who’s made it painfully clear he doesn’t feel the same—until a family vacation forces buried emotions to the surface.

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst & fluff ! idolverse, age gap, arguments, jungkook is an ass with reader, +18, making out, smut, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected sex, explicit language…

NOTE: here’s part 2!! hope you like it!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

minors, please do not interact!

part 1, part 2.

my masterlist!

The dining table stretched out in the middle of the open-concept villa, a long, wooden piece covered with platters of food your moms had spent the day preparing, drinks being poured.

You were aware of the man sitting across from you. Jungkook. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his tattooed arm as he sipped from his glass. He wasn’t saying much, but he didn’t have to. His presence was magnetic. Every move he made drew your attention, no matter how much you tried to focus on your plate.

Your mom was talking about you now, her voice brimming with pride.

“My daughter has been working so hard these past few months in her comeback,” she said, smiling as she looked down the table at you. “I don’t know how she does it. She barely sleeps!”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, hating how everyone’s attention shifted to you.

“She’s always been like that,” your brother chimed in, grinning. “Remember when she stayed up all night practicing for that school play? She was so nervous she forgot her lines.”

The table erupted into laughter, but you felt your cheeks burn. You glanced at Jungkook, expecting him to join in, but his expression was unreadable. He was leaning back in his chair, one hand curled around his drink as his eyes were fixed in you.

“She’s always been determined,” Jungkook said suddenly, his voice cutting through the noise. It wasn’t a compliment exactly—more of a detached observation—but the way he said it made your heart stutter.

“Yeah, determined to prove she’s not a kid,” your brother teased, nudging your arm.

“I’m not a kid,” you muttered, but it was drowned out by another wave of laughter.

You forced a tight smile, trying to play along, but the heat in your chest wouldn’t go away. When you glanced at Jungkook again he was taking another sip of his drink, now his eyes looking at the sky.

Halfway through dinner, you accidentally knocked your knife off the table. It clattered to the floor, and before you could reach for it, Jungkook leaned forward, his voice sharp.

“Careful,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

The comment was casual, but there was an edge to it that made your stomach twist.

“I can manage,” you replied, grabbing the knife yourself. Your voice was quieter than you wanted it to be.

Your brother, completely oblivious, just laughed again. “She’s always been clumsy, too.”

Jungkook didn’t laugh. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on his plate, and the tension between you grew thicker.

As the night wore on, you tried to lose yourself in the chatter around the table, but it was impossible to ignore him. The way he looked at you—brief, fleeting glances that felt like they burned—kept pulling you under.

By the time dessert was served, you were exhausted. Not from the conversation, but from trying to act like his presence didn’t affect you. And when you finally excused yourself to the kitchen, you swore you felt his eyes follow you as you left.

The soft glow of the kitchen light greeted you as you stepped inside, seeking refuge from the buzz of the dining room. You reached for a glass of water, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Couldn’t take the noise anymore?” a warm voice asked behind you.

You turned to see Mrs. Jeon standing at the doorway, her kind smile immediately softening your nerves. She was carrying an empty platter, her movements unhurried as she crossed the room to place it on the counter.

“Yeah,” you admitted, setting your glass down. “Needed a little breather.”

She chuckled, opening a cabinet to grab some storage containers. “I don’t blame you. That dining table can get a little overwhelming, especially with all the teasing going on.”

You gave her a small smile, nodding. “It’s like they’re never going to let me forget I’m the youngest.”

She glanced at you knowingly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “That’s because we all adore you. Even if they have a funny way of showing it sometimes.”

You leaned against the counter, watching as she began packing up some of the leftover food. It was comforting—being here with her, away from the tension that lingered with Jungkook at the table.

She smiled, her gaze flicking to you. There was a brief pause before she spoke again, her tone softer this time. “You and Jungkook… you used to be so close when you were kids. He used to talk about you all the time.”

Her words caught you off guard, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “He did?”

She nodded, her smile tinged with nostalgia. “Oh, yes. He used to come home and tell me all about the adventures you two would have with your brother. He always said you were fearless—always trying to prove yourself.”

You let out a quiet laugh, staring down at your hands. “I guess I was just trying to keep up with them.”

“Even now, I can see how much he cares about you.”

You froze at her words, your chest tightening. “I don’t think that’s true,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She set down the container she was holding and turned to face you fully, her expression soft but serious. “Trust me, I know my son. He’s not always the best at showing how he feels, but it’s there.”

You looked at her, unsure of how to respond. The knot in your chest only grew tighter, and you fought the urge to spill everything—to tell her how hopelessly you’d fallen for him, how his mixed signals were tearing you apart.

But you didn’t. Instead, you forced a small smile and nodded. “Thank you.”

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re a good girl. And I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with your career, but don’t let the little things pass you by, okay? Sometimes the things we think we can’t have are just waiting for us to take a chance.”

You stood there for a moment, her words replaying in your mind. And as much as you wanted to believe her, the memory of Jungkook’s distant gaze at dinner told a different story.

The next morning the sun was high, shimmering over the gentle waves and warming the soft stretch of sand. You stood at the edge of the villa’s terrace, adjusting the straps of your pink bikini, the light breeze brushing against your skin as you took a deep breath.

When Jungkook stepped onto the patio heading to the beach, his footsteps faltered. For a moment, he froze. His gaze landed on you, his eyes taking in the vibrant color of your bikini that hugged your frame, your beautiful curves, in a way that felt unfairly distracting.

You caught his gaze, and his dark eyes quickly flicked up to yours, as though caught red-handed. His jaw tightened, and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

“You coming or not?” your brother called from down the path, completely unaware of the sudden tension hanging between you and Jungkook.

“Yeah,” Jungkook muttered, tearing his gaze away and following after him. But as you trailed behind, he couldn’t help but glance back at you. Noticing how some of the guys at the beach—strangers sprawled across towels and tossing a frisbee—let their eyes linger on you just a little too long made his stomach twist.

The feeling was foreign, uninvited. He hated it.

By the time you reached the beach and found a spot to settle, Jungkook had barely spoken a word to you, though his eyes betrayed him every time you moved. As you pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and started rubbing it into your arms, he tried to focus on anything else—the waves, the sky, the sound of seagulls—but the sight of you struggling to reach your back was impossible to ignore.

“Need help?”

You looked up, startled by his sudden voice. His expression was guarded, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

“Oh,” you said, hesitant. “Sure. If you don’t mind.”

He positioned himself behind you, his hands steady as he took the bottle from you and squeezed a small amount into his palm. The first touch of his hands against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried your best to hide it.

Jungkook swallowed hard, his fingers gliding over your shoulder blades and down the curve of your back. He tried to keep his movements clinical, detached, but the softness of your skin under his touch and the scent of the sunscreen—mixed with whatever perfume you were wearing—was messing with his head.

“All done,” he said quickly, pulling his hands away as if they’d been burned.

“Thanks,” you murmured, glancing at him over your shoulder. He was already looking away, his jaw set tight.

A few minutes later, you waded into the water, the cool waves lapping at your legs. Jungkook followed, his hair pushed back by the wind as he tried not to look at you too much. But when you laughed—light and carefree, splashing water at him—he couldn’t help it.

“Is this payback for all those summers I beat you at volleyball?” he teased, smirking as he splashed you back.

You rolled your eyes, the sun catching in your damp hair as you moved closer. “You didn’t beat me. You cheated.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

“You totally did,” you said, laughing again. The sound was like a melody he couldn’t ignore.

The two of you were close now, the waves brushing against your waists. His smile faded slightly as he looked at you, the playfulness in his expression giving way to something softer, something heavier.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

Your laughter faded as you looked up at him, suddenly hyperaware of how close you were. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a moment, and your heart leapt into your throat.

He took a step closer, his hand brushing yours under the water. The air between you felt electric, charged with everything unspoken.

But before either of you could close the distance, a voice shattered the moment.

“Hey! You two good out here?” You jumped, spinning around to see Minho standing on the shore, waving at you both.

“We’re fine!” you called back, your voice a little too loud, your cheeks burning.

Jungkook cleared his throat, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. “I-I should probably head back,” he said, his tone clipped.

“Yeah,” you agreed quickly, your heart still racing as he turned and waded back toward the shore, leaving the moment—and whatever it could have been—behind.

“I’m telling you, we should go for a darker concept this time,” Yunjin said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Something intense and powerful. No one’s expecting it.”

The night was quiet, save for the distant crash of waves against the shore. You were tucked away in your room, sitting cross-legged on the bed with your phone in your hands. The screen glowed with the faces of your members—Nari, Mimi, Yunjin, and Sky—who were all chatting animatedly about your group’s upcoming comeback.

“Darker? That could work, but we need to make sure it fits the choreography,” Nari said, her expression thoughtful.

You leaned back against the headboard, a soft smile tugging at your lips you play with the edge of your oversized white t-shirt with Hello Kitty's face. The conversation was exactly what you needed after a long day—something normal to ground you. But as the topic shifted away from the comeback, you felt the air shift, like they were plotting something.

“So…” Sky began, dragging out the word with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “What’s going on in the villa? Did you fuck?”

“Sky! Oh my god…” You shouted while your cheeks were turning redder. The mention of a situation involving his body and touch made your stomach flip.

“Don’t act clueless,” Mimi teased. “You probably have fucked him ten times by now.”

“That’s my queen!” Yunjin chimed in, laughing.

“There’s nothing, no fucking,” you muttered, but your voice lacked conviction.

“Liar!” Nari laughed. “Come on, spill. What’s the deal?”

You sighed, finally giving in. “Fine. Something happened today.” Their eyes lit up, and you immediately regretted opening your mouth.

You told them everything: the way Jungkook had helped you with sunscreen at the beach, the near-kiss in the water, and how he’d gotten jealous over the way other guys were looking at you.

Mimi gasped. “He helped you with sunscreen? That’s practically a love confession.”

“And he was jealous?” Sky added, her grin wide. “Oh, he’s down bad.”

Yunjin leaned closer to the camera, her eyebrows raised. “So, what now? Did you talk to him about it?”

Before you could answer, a faint noise broke through the chatter—a soft scraping sound, like someone fiddling with your doorknob.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Hold on,” you whispered, staring at the door.

“Girl are you alright?” Your members asked.

The sound grew louder, more insistent, and then the door handle turned. You grabbed the nearest object—a hairbrush—your grip tightening as the door creaked open.

“Kid?” came a familiar voice, low and annoyed.

“Jungkook?” Your breath hitched as he stepped into the room, his broad shoulders filling the doorway.

“Relax,” he muttered, closing the door behind him. “It’s just me.”

“Just you?” you snapped, lowering the hairbrush. “What are you doing barging into my room like that?” You grabbed your phone and turn the video call off.

He ignored your question, his gaze flicking to your phone. “What are you doing? It’s almost midnight, and you’re loud enough to wake the entire villa.”

Heat rushed to your face. You quickly ended the call, ignoring the teasing protests of your members, and turned to face Jungkook. “You could’ve just knocked.”

“I did knock,” he said, crossing his arms. “But you didn’t hear me. So, I let myself in.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to be angry or embarrassed. “Fine. Sorry for keeping you up. You can go now.”

But he didn’t move. Instead, he locked the door, his expression shifting into something more serious.

“Jungkook?” you asked, your voice softer now.

He leaned against the door, running a hand through his hair. “At the beach earlier, when those guys were staring at you…” His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “It made me so jealous I couldn’t think straight.”

You blinked, his words hitting you like a tidal wave. “You… Please, you don’t get to be jealous,” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “You’ve been with other girls before, and I respected that. I didn’t say anything. Why should you get to feel jealous when I’ve done nothing wrong?”

His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, the weight of his stare almost too much to bear. “You’re right,” he said after a moment, his voice rough with emotion. “But that doesn’t stop me from feeling it. I can’t stand the idea of anyone else looking at you that way.”

Your heart raced, your chest tightening as his words sank in. “That way?” you whispered.

“Like they can have you,” he admitted, stepping closer. “I’m not allowed to want you, even though I do. So… seeing that guys-”

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling at your sides. “Jungkook…”

“Tell me to leave,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you don’t want this—if you don’t want me—just tell me to leave, and I will.”

But you didn’t. Instead, you took a step closer, your heart pounding as you reached for him. His lips met yours in an instant, the kiss urgent and electric, like a dam breaking after years of restraint.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as your fingers tangled in his hair. The world outside the room faded away, leaving only the two of you and the emotions you could no longer deny. When you finally pulled back, your breaths were shallow, your foreheads pressed together.

“This changes everything,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, his voice steady. “But I don’t care anymore. I just want you.”

And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe him. “Jungkook...” Little by little, he brought you both closer to your bed and out of nowhere you were lying between the soft white sheets and him on top of you.

“Jungkook, what? Now you wanna beg?” He grinned, your arms found their way around his neck, legs already wrapping around his waist and pushing him against you. You almost had to chuckle when you felt that he was hard already.

You looked down to your t-shirt, only to realize you had still had your oversized Hello Kitty t-shirt, shit.

“That t-shirt looks good on you. Although one of mine would look even better,” he said, kissing your nose. You punched hin lightly in his chest, laughing softly.

“Mm-uh.” he opened your legs and traced with his hand an imaginary path in your lower stomach.

“Wait… anyone can hear us,” you said, fear in your voice.

“I know baby, but I’m so serious right now,” he pauses and gives you a hungry daring stare. “Dead serious. I won’t let anyone else fuck me if it isn’t you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“One hundred percent.” He smiled. You knew he couldn’t wait much longer, not when he knew what effect he was having on you today. He could feel your wetness before he even came in contact with it.

Jungkook softly pressed his lips against yours. Each kiss grew longer and more intimate than the last, and there was an intense rhythm in the movement of your lips. The sensation of him against you filled your body with excitement.

You ran your hands up his chest and pulled him in close. His hot breath teased you as he left a trail of kisses along your neck. The tingling of him making his mark on you triggered a small moan from your mouth. You took a peek and caught him smirking and admiring the tiny pink spot he left on your skin.

He pulled from his t-shirt and the sight of his bare chest made you blush. Of course you had seen it many times before, but it was the first time in this context. Then you felt him grasp the hem of your shirt, looking at you for confirmation.

“Is this okey, princess?” That was the first time he was calling you like that. Princess. It sounded good. Still blushing, you nodded as he lifted the shirt over your head and tossed it to the edge of the bed. You saw him shift his eyes to your exposed chest, biting his lip to hold in his lust for you.

“You don’t have to be shy, okay?” He spoke in his low and soothing, yet very sensual voice. He tucked your hair behind your ear and entwined his fingers with yours once more.

“Okay,” you smiled back.

He slowly moved his hand down your waist to your inner thigh while licking one of your nipples. Each time he squeezed your thigh, you felt a heated sensation growing between your legs. You squirmed around to kick all lingerie, until you were completely vulnerable to Jungkook’s eyes.

“Fuck… you were prepared?” He asked, wondering why you were not wearing any shorts and a lingerie thong.

“Maybe…” You were not prepared for this situation in particular, but you never know when something can occur. You wanted to kiss your past self for packing this set.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he replied, continuing to slide his hands up your thigh and closer to the sensation where you felt hot and wet. Just before he reached the spot, he paused to give you another warm, delicate kiss. He ripped off your panties in a second.

“Jungkook! They were new!” You said, amused.

“Princess, I’ll take you on a shopping day and buy ten of these,” he said.

As his lips kept you calm, he snuck a light pair of fingers between your legs. His fingers glided up and down with such ease. You arched your back when he brushed against the center of your pleasure. You hadn’t even realized how needy you were for his touch until a loud moan escaped your mouth.

“Jungkook…” You whined desperate for him. You’d been fantasizing for years about what he must feel like and now you were so close to having what you dreamt of.

He put in a bit more pressure and speed as his fingers circled your center over and over again. “You like that, princess?” He asked, while you felt the pleasure building up quickly.

“K-kook…” At the sound of your desperate cry, he slid two fingers inside you and began curling them in and out at a frustratingly slow pace. Immense waves of pleasure consumed your body as he continued to touch your most sensitive areas. “Faster please…”

“Torturing you is like torturing me,” He sighs. “Fucking wet.” You clenched around his fingers as you let out another loud moan, trying to keep yourself from cumming so fast.

“You like that, baby?” He teases you, his face decorated with a proud smirk as his fingers move faster than before. Almost screaming, you felt your orgasm come through while you suppressed your moans with a hand in your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you had very little time to recover though, as Jungkook stood back up, turned you around and pushed you down onto the matress.

Leaving a rough slap against your ass cheek, he pulled himself out of his pants sliding his dick along your folds to collect your cum on him. “Fuck, so wet for me, baby.”

He introduced his tip in your folds, waiting for you to get used to the feeling. “Does that hurt? You’re fine?” He asked you, and you chuckled at his reaction.

“I’m alright here, you can start moving.”

He didn’t take long to start fucking into you at a ruthless speed, hands on your hips, the euphoric expression written on his face turning you on even more. His head fell back as he let out a low moan. He smirked as he landed another firm slap to your ass before he griped you shoulder.

“K-kook they will hea-hear us,” you said in between muffled moans without a doubt in your mind that your moans could be heard throughout the hallway.

Your arm coming up to rest on the bed to help you support yourself. He let go of your shoulder and moved his hand around to your clit, his nimble fingers moving against you in rhythm with his dick.

His throaty moans keep sending electric shocks through your body and within long you can already feel yourself building up to your second orgasm of the day.

“God…. You feel so good,” you moan against his lips, his tongue tracing your lover lip before he gently bites it. He hums in response.

He hums in responds. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” he praises you, his hand brushing away a lose strand of hair from your forehead.

Upon hearing his words, your walls clamp down around him and he falters for only a second from the feeling before he picks up the speed slightly.

His hips are slamming against yours, his length ramming in and out of you as your back arched off the bed, your hands grasping whatever they can hold on to.

You were both moaning loudly as his thrusts got sloppier and rougher, the pulsing of your walls pushing him over the edge only seconds after you.

“I’m gonna cum baby! Fuuuuck!” Jungkook groans above you and you can feel as he releases inside you. His pace slows down but he keeps pumping in and out of you until he’s sure you both rode out your orgasm.

Jungkook fell forward, right above you as he slowly and gently kissed down your back, riding out his high.

He eventually pulled himself up and out of you before helping you back up. He situated himself back into his pants as you readjusted oversized t-shirt.

“You did so good for me, kid,” he softly pressed his lips to yours, one hand on your waist as the other caressed your cheek softly.

The first thing you felt in the morning was heat. You were drenched in your own sweat, and the thin sheets that were draped around your body clung tackily to your skin.

As you listened to Jungkook’s steady breaths, you meandered through the events of last night. The weight of his arm slung loosely around your waist was comforting. You chuckled, remembering last night.

“What’s funny?” Jungkook mumbled groggily, his arms tightening around you. You lifted your head, looking up at him.

“Morning.” Your mouth spread into a smile.

“Good morning, kid.” He ruffled your hair lazily, running his finger through the wild strands.

The peaceful atmosphere didn’t last long. A shrill knock on the door shattered the stillness, making you both freeze.

“Shit,” Jungkook whispered, instantly alert. He sat up, his bare chest gleaming in the morning light. “Who the hell is that?”

You didn’t have time to answer before the knock came again, louder and more insistent. Panic surged through you as you scrambled out of bed, tugging on a pair of shorts over your underwear.

“Jungkook, you can’t be here. They’ll kill us if they find out.”

He shot you a quick glare, already pulling on his discarded shirt. “I know, okay? I’m trying to figure out how to sneak out without a parade waiting for me outside.” He stated, annoyed.

The sound of the door handle turning made your heart stop. You grabbed the nearest object—a hairbrush—and held it like a weapon, ready to face whoever dared to intrude.

The door creaked open, revealing your mom and Jungkook’s.

Her eyes widened as they darted between you and Jungkook, who was awkwardly trying to zip his jeans while hiding behind the door.

“Wha-what’s going on here?”

Before you could think of an excuse, Jungkook’s mom appeared behind yours, looking equally suspicious. Both moms stared at each other for a long, loaded moment. Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, they exchanged a knowing look and stepped back.

“Take the back stairs,” Jungkook’s mom said, her voice calm but stern. “No one’s awake yet.”

You and Jungkook nodded fervently, like children caught stealing cookies. As Jungkook slipped out the back, you exchanged a glance with your mom.

“Don’t think I’m letting this slide,” she warned, but there was an unusual softness in her eyes.

And with that, she turned on her heel and left, leaving you with nothing but the lingering embarrassment—and a lingering warmth from the night before.

Since that day, you hadn’t seen Jungkook.

The morning after that unforgettable night, he had slipped out quietly, leaving behind a soft kiss on your forehead. He promised to see you before the end of your vacation, but the last day came, and Jungkook was gone. His sudden departure was blamed on a last-minute dance practice he had to attend, and while he responded to the one message you sent him, his replies were distant and curt.

you

kook have you arrived yet? read, 18:34

kook? read, 20:40

Days turned into weeks, and the excitement of what had happened between you two began to feel like a distant memory, replaced by lingering questions. Was it a one-time thing for him? Had you misread his intentions?

Months later, an unexpected invitation arrived: two front-row tickets to BTS’s concert in your city. It was addressed to your family, sent with love from Jungkook’s mother, and you weren’t sure if it was his idea or hers. Either way, the thought of seeing him again made your heart race.

The night of the concert, your family and you arrived early with backstage passes. Walking through the bustling corridors filled with staff and crew, you felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement. It wasn’t long before you spotted Jungkook’s mother, her kind smile instantly putting you at ease.

“Darling” she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug. “It’s been too long.”

You returned her embrace, feeling a flood of nostalgia. “It has. How have you been?”

“I’m well. But you… you look lovely,” she said, stepping back to examine you. Her gaze softened as she added, “You and Jungkook remind me so much of me and his father when we were young.”

Your breath hitched at her words. “Really?”

She nodded, her expression wistful. “The way he talks about you, the way he looks at you… It’s the same way my husband looked at me when we first fell in love.”

The mention of love made your chest tighten. “Well, he’s been distant lately,” you admitted, unable to hide the sadness in your voice, “you know… since the incident, yeah.”

She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Give him time, he’s being dumb now. If it’s meant to be, it will work out.”

Before you could respond, a loud commotion signaled the arrival of BTS. The members spilled into the room, their energy infectious as they greeted your family with enthusiasm.

“Look who’s here!” Taehyung called out, grinning as he pulled you into a quick hug. “It’s good to see you again!”

The others followed suit, each greeting you warmly. They joked, teased, and chatted as if you were part of their family, making you feel at ease despite the tension simmering beneath your calm exterior.

And then, he walked in.

Jungkook appeared in the doorway, dressed in baggy jeans and an oversized white BTS t-shirt that hung effortlessly on his frame. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and he looked better than you remembered.

“Hey,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. He greeted your family with polite smiles before his gaze found yours.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone low but firm.

You nodded, following him as he led you to his dressing room. The door closed with a soft click, and the silence was heavy.

“Why didn’t you call me back?” you blurted out, unable to contain your frustration any longer. “I called, I texted, and you barely responded. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry. Things got… complicated. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Complicated?” you repeated, your voice rising. “All you had to do was talk to me. Instead, you left me wondering if I meant anything to you at all.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was struggling to find the right words. Finally, he stepped closer. “You mean everything to me and that’s the problem. I’ve never felt this way before, and it scared me. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, but it didn’t. It made it worse. And your brother he…”

You blinked, his confession catching you off guard. “Kook, you let me have the talk with my brother. We’ll figure it out.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. “I’m sorry for being an idiot. I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. If you’ll have me.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. “You’re really bad at this, you know?” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He laughed softly, relief washing over his face. “Yeah, I am. But I’ll do better. I promise.”

You nodded, letting him pull you into his arms. The tension melted away as he held you close, his warmth grounding you in the moment.

“I have to go,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “But I’ll be looking for you in the crowd.”

And he did.

From your spot in the front row, you watched as Jungkook lit up the stage, his energy and passion unmatched. But every now and then, his gaze would flicker to you, and in those fleeting moments, it felt like the world belonged to just the two of you.

665 notes · View notes

luveline · 11 months ago

Note

How about ploy marauders going to a party and Sirius promised to do readers make up, but is late so the other two are making an attempt. Sure they might know how to do Sirius's messy style, but do they know big dramatic styles? Can James do a perfect wing?

<3 fem, 1k

“Can you stay still?” Remus asks, turning your face a half inch where it’s held in his hand.

“Can James stop kissing me?” you ask.

James pulls his face from the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “Sorry, are you busy?”

“You’re supposed to be helping.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

You smile. Remus rubs the softest curve under your eye with his thumb, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, concentrating instead on your face and the wetness of your makeup where it’s beginning to sink in. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he sighs.

“You know better than I do,” James says.

You don’t know a thing about it, that’s why you’d arranged for Sirius to do your makeup tonight before Marl’s birthday bash, but where is your awful boyfriend? Late, decidedly unavailable for makeup-ing.

“You’ve done his mascara a thousand times,” James argues with Remus.

“Yes, but Sirius has never asked me to do his blush.” Remus’ hand moves to the side of your face. “You are lovely, though. I think using only a little of everything is working in our favour.”

“Sirius only lets him do mascara because he already has nice eyelashes,” you worry. It won’t matter if Remus messes up or doesn’t get close enough to the root.

“Yes, and because he likes it when Remus holds his face like that,” James points out, eyeing Remus’ hand where it stays at your cheek. Remus has long fingers, ever-so slightly thick with two golden rings that kiss your chin as he lets his hand fall, and he’s always gentle.

“James, I’m tapping out.”

James pretends to roll up sleeves he isn’t wearing, your bulkiest boyfriend in a short-sleeved t-shirt that showcases the lean muscle of his forearms, the not so lean ridges of his biceps. They tense as he sits up, his knee jabbing yours, the bed creaking dangerously beneath your angled weight. “What’s there left to do? She’s gorgeous.”

“What did you want?” Remus asks you.

“Uh, I wanted, you know…” You sound ridiculously shy. You wish you could just do all of this faff by yourself rather than force their attention, but neither boy seems annoyed. “He does that smudgey eyeliner, it makes my eyes look bigger. And lipgloss, but I can do that myself.”

“Are you kidding? That’s the best part,” James says. He gives you a smile confident enough to reassure you and handsome enough to make you shy from his touch all over again. “Pass me the black pencil, Remus. I’ve got this.”

James does not got this, his expression melding from happy, adoring, to perturbed, and then annoyed. “Aw, I’ve fucked it.”

Remus shakes his head vehemently. “You haven’t! We just need a wet wipe.”

They search the room for Sirius’ wet wipes and come up empty-handed. A towel is wetted and taken carefully to your eyes instead, cold and rough on your eyelids.

“Be gentler,” Remus whispers.

James is practically atop you know, your chin tilted up to his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers in turn, then to you solely, “‘m I hurting you?”

“No.” You’re whispering too. It feels appropriate; they’re both very close to you, and this movement might fix or ruin your makeup with the party’s start time drawing ever closer.

“I think I’ve fixed it,” James says, taking the pencil up again, the nib soft as it rolls over the corner of your eye. “Sirius can perfect it in the car, right?”

“I thought you were good at everything?” you ask.

James turns your face up impossibly higher, craning his head down for a peck. “Yes,” he whispers severely, “I’m good at everything. But Sirius is usually better. Quick, let’s find your lipgloss before we’re late.”

Remus tries to tell James that it isn’t true, a serious conversation at a bad time, and James won’t listen to a word of it. They quibble over who’s doing your lipgloss, bathe you in compliments when they’re done —aw, dove, you look so cute, and cute? she looks perfect— then suddenly an abrupt beep is sounding outside. The three of you scramble into your jackets and down the stairs, meeting Sirius where he leans against the car. He throws the keys to Remus, ushering you into the backseat with him for some last minute clean up.

“Hey, they’ve done a good job,” he praises, another hand on your face to turn it up kindly to the light. “Did you bring your lipgloss?”

You nod quickly and dig for it in your jacket.

“What!” James says from the front, turning in the passenger seat to complain. “That’s the one thing we did perfectly.”

The car starts. Remus laughs to himself behind the steering wheel.

“Did I say otherwise?” Sirius asks, letting his fingers curve toward the back of your neck. Pale in the light, eyes lit with something funny you’ve yet to hear, he dips in close to you and talks quietly, “I’m sorry, I promised I’d do your makeup for the party. But you’ve all done well without me, you look perfect, especially your lips.”

“Then what did you want it for?” you ask, confused, your seat belt pulling as Sirius encourages you forward.

“To reapply.” He taps your neck with a fingertip. “Spare a kiss? I promise I’ll fix any mess.”

Commotion from the front seat.

“James–” Remus warns.

“What? I want to watch.”

“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly.

“How am I a freak? She’s my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re doing that voice like you’re gonna lay her down in the back seat.”

“James.”

—

requests r open!! pls think about reblogging if you enjoyed, I hope u did either way!!!

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freedomfireflies · 1 year ago

Text

Whiplash*

Summary: The second part to Knockout*

The one where Harry does something dangerous in the shadows, and he'll do anything to keep you out of it.

Word Count: 9.4k (again...so sorry)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, slight blood kink, slight pain kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

There’s no protocol for what to do when a handsome stranger you hardly know (but occasionally fool around with), stops showing up at your diner.

You stare at his booth for far longer than you should. Willing him to appear. To walk through the door and make things right. Ease this ache in your chest.

You have no way to contact him. You don’t know his last name, or his phone number, or his address. You don’t even know his license plate number. He’s a ghost to you. More than a stranger but less than a friend.

You give him a few more minutes to appear. Maybe there was traffic. Or maybe he forgot you were working tonight.

But soon, a few minutes turns into an hour, and booth 505 remains empty.

So, you put the idea of him to bed. Carrying on with your shift while wearing your heavy heart on your sleeve. Perhaps he’s gotten bored with you. Or perhaps he’s found other ways to occupy his nights.

You almost think you’d prefer this alternative to the other. The one where he’s not here because he’s not…here. That wherever he goes and whatever he does has finally caught up to him.

It makes your stomach wrench to imagine, and you forcibly shove the thought free before returning your attention to your newest pie.

Peach. Another one of Harry’s favorites.

3 a.m. has never felt so liberating. Bringing you the perfect escape as you clock out and rush through the doors for the parking lot. Eager to rid yourself of this wretched night and head back to your apartment to worry about your stranger in peace.

You step out into the cold morning air and pull your jacket a bit tighter around your frame. Exhaling a shaky breath that you can see dance across the dimly lit space.

There are only two other cars over by the right side of the building, and much to your continued dismay, you notice that Harry’s still isn’t one of them.

So, with a sinking stomach, you reach into your pocket for your apartment keys, and begin walking for the subway. Yet right as round the corner of the diner, you notice something move within the shadows just beside you.

With a jump, you gasp, and spin around on your heel with your keys raised and aimed at the ready.

The figure that emerges sends your heart straight into your throat.

“Harry?” You drop your arm and move closer for a better look. “What…what…?”

The battered and bruised man offers you a tired smile that hardly reaches his lips. “Hi, Cherry.”

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. There’s a nasty slash going down his left eyebrow, a dark bruise forming along his jaw, and blood dripping down his arm from beneath his sleeve onto the pavement below.

You search for the right words – for any words at all – but before you can, he’s stumbling forward. Just barely able to catch himself before he collapses onto the ground.

With another gasp, you surge forward, quickly taking hold of his shoulders in order to keep him upright. “Harry—”

“M’okay,” he murmurs, and you can hardly hear him. As if he barely has the strength to speak. “I’m fine. I promise—”

“Harry,” you repeat for a third time, almost incredulously. “You…this is not fine. You’re…what happened?”

Even before he shakes his head, you know he won’t truly answer. “Nothing. S’just a little worse this time, but I’m okay. Really.”

You feel sick. Sick that he’s so hurt, sick that you can’t help him, and sick because you don’t understand who does this to him. “Okay, we…we need to get you to a hospital, we need to get you some help—”

“No.” His head shakes again, a bit more insistently. “No, I can’t go to a hospital. I just…I had to see you.”

You feel your throat constrict. “What?”

His hand lifts, palm finding your jaw until he can softly caress your cheek. And you feel a streak of blood smear across your skin from where his thumb brushes at your chin.

“I had to see you,” he repeats softly. “Had to make sure you were all right. M’so sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”

You want to bury yourself in his arms. Want to kiss him, and hold him, and fix him. Make everything better again.

“It’s okay,” you nearly whimper. Pushing yourself into his touch. “I’m just really worried about you.”

The smirk grows. “I’m all right. I’ll go home, take some pain pills, and be right as rain by tomorrow. Really.”

You’re hardly convinced. “Harry—"

“I’m all right,” he insists, dipping down to press his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to worry about me, Cher. S’not the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. I’ll be okay. I just wanted to see you.”

And you don’t believe him. You don’t even think he believes him. But he smiles at you as though he wants to. As though he wants to offer you any sort of consolation for his pain. To make this better…for you.

You allow him to hold you a moment longer before you pull back and declare, “I’ll help.”

His brows pinch together. “What?”

“I’ll help. I’ll go with you. Make sure you’re okay, and…and help you clean up.”

His expression softens, but he sighs heavily. “Baby, I can’t…I can’t ask you to do that—”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“I know, s’just…” He holds your cheeks in both hands now. Keeping you in his sights. “I made a rule with myself. A promise that I wouldn’t drag you down with me. That I’d make sure you were okay, and that you’d never hurt because of me.”

The pit in your stomach deepens, but you merely straighten up. “How could this hurt me? I just want to help.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he breathes. “But letting you come with me means breaking my rule. And I can’t do that. I won’t.”

You wonder what he means. You wonder if you really want to know.

“Then you come with me,” you decide. “You can come back to my apartment, and I can make sure you’re all right.”

Another heavy exhale, but you can tell he’s touched. “Cherry—”

“I mean it. You’re not…Harry, I’m really worried about you. You can hardly stand and you’re bleeding from more places than one. You could have really hurt yourself and you shouldn’t be alone. I won’t let you be alone right now.”

He considers this. “Cherry, I’m trying to protect you—”

“And I’m trying to protect you, too,” you argue firmly, but with a persuasive grin. “Please let me.”

There’s a long lull of silence, those gentle green eyes studying you closely. He looks so very tired and wrought with grief. Yet when he sees you…his entire world seems to change. Lighting up about as bright as the moon.

“Okay,” he finally agrees. “Okay, we’ll go. I trust you.”

I trust you. Three little words that have never sounded so good and you can’t help but push up onto your toes to kiss him as gingerly as you can.

“Okay, where’s your car?” you ask, letting go in order to look around. “My apartment isn't too far, so I can drive until we—”

“No.”

“What?”

He squeezes onto your wrist almost pointedly. “No, we can’t…can’t take my car. S’not safe.”

“Oh…” Your lashes flutter. “All right. We…we can take the subway. I was going to take it anyway because a friend of mine is borrowing my car for the night, but…that can work. We can make that work.”

He says nothing, instead swaying a bit from the loss of blood as you rush to take hold of him once more.

“All right, okay. You’re okay,” you murmur softly. “Just hold on, okay? It’s only a few stops to my place, and we’ll be there in under twenty minutes.”

He nods weakly in response, and you’re quick to pull his arm around your shoulders in order to help guide him through the parking lot.

He seems grateful for this hold on you. Smirking to himself before leaning over to press his lips to your temple. Keeping you tight against his chest as though the two of you are merely going for a stroll in the park.

Like a real couple.

You cling to his stained hoodie and help lead him toward the subway station. Making sure that you don’t walk too fast (or too slow) in order to get him there in one piece.

You don’t talk much – although there’s so much you want to say – but you can tell he’s pleased. Grateful to be in your company, even despite the circumstances.

Once the train arrives, you both slip through the doors, and take a seat near the exit. You push your shoulder into his and he pushes his shoulder into yours. Leaning against each other almost contently and smiling to yourselves as the rest of the crowd saunters on.

The subway is relatively empty for this time of night. Or rather, early morning. And you’re more than all right with that. It means less people to stare at the bloody, bruised man dripping onto the train floor.

He doesn’t notice the odd looks. He doesn’t seem to notice anything but you, instead staring down at where your fingers are tracing his. The way they run tenderly over the cracked skin across his knuckles before intertwining together.

He hums contently, lips stretching into a gentle grin.

You’re at your stop only fifteen minutes later, practically leaping onto your feet in a rush to get him out.

He seems to have a bit more energy now, perhaps from being able to rest for as long as he did. But he still holds onto you as tightly as he can while you walk along the sidewalk.

And you can’t help but let him.

“My apartment might be a little messy,” you attempt to preface as you head inside the tall building. “I was going to clean it before I left, but something…came up.”

He nods understandingly before glancing over the side of your profile. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” you tease, gesturing toward him.

He smirks, but that curious look doesn’t slip. “Are you?”

You press the elevator button with one hand and squeeze his palm in the other. “I will be once you are.”

Apartment 505 is on the left side of the building, just beside the stairwell. It gives you a perfect view of the city, and you spend most of your days out on the stairwell watching the sun rise and set.

There’s a wreath on your door, hanging just over the number, and your stranger smiles when he sees it. Seemingly amused by the bright flowers and dainty bow that stands out amidst the dark grey paint.

After fumbling with your keys, you finally manage to get you both inside. Exhaling a deep breath and tossing your things toward the coffee table.

“Lock it,” he murmurs just as you’re moving for the kitchen.

“What?”

“The door. Lock it,” he says, almost firmly while nodding toward the handle. “Right now.”

A tad surprised by the resolute tone of voice, you nod, and turn around to oblige. Making sure the lock is turned and the door is secure before glancing over for his approval.

“Good girl,” he mumbles. “I want you to always lock it when you come in, all right? Always.”

“Okay,” you agree softly, returning to him. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” you whisper, raising your hand to his face to press a kiss to his cheek. “Can you let me take care of you now?”

He seems to chuckle as he allows you to stroke his jaw. Settling into your gentle touch before nodding.

Pleased, you take his hand, and lead him toward your small bathroom. Sitting him on the edge of the bathtub in order to get a better look.

But the moment you see each cut and scrape beneath the bright, fluorescent light, there’s a hitch in your breath. Overwhelming you with sorrow and anguish at the sight of him.

“Harry,” you exhale, almost unintentionally.

His lashes flutter as he smiles, reaching out to lightly tug on your waitressing dress. “M’okay, Cherry. Really.”

He’s not okay, and you both know it. “I’ll…I’ll need to clean them first. Where…how many are there?”

A beat while he thinks. “There’s a couple on my chest. Plus, the one on my eye, and, you know, my hands.”

You nod, and vaguely gesture toward him, willing yourself not to shake. “Can…may I take off your hoodie? So I can check?”

The corner of his mouth curls up and he nods as well, reaching for the collar of his sweatshirt in order to begin peeling it off his torso.

You attempt to help, making sure he can get his arms through without having to bend too far or cause any strain to the injuries.

But once it’s off, you feel your stomach twist.

His skin is littered with scars, scrapes, and fresh bruises. A variety of colors that range from light pink to an unsettling yellow. Blood is smeared across tattoos you didn’t even know he had, and there’s a rather nasty gash along the side of his ribcage.

You hear yourself gasp, and he quickly tugs on your hem again. “Cher—”

However, you brush his hand away and move closer, running the tips of your fingers along his shoulder and down his sternum. Trailing each inch of stained skin until you reach his heart.

“Harry…” you say again.

He takes hold of your wrist and offers you a look of remorse. “I know.”

You aren’t sure you have the strength to ask, instead swallowing thickly as you pull back, and turn around. Searching through your cupboards for everything you’ll need.

He watches you closely, and it seems your reaction causes him more pain than anything else. It’s a look you know well. One where he’s desperate to comfort you, and you wish you could let him.

You rejoin his side with bandages, rubbing alcohol, and a sterilized needle with thread. “All right, I have to clean them first, and then…”

His eyes flick down to the suturing supplies with a smirk. “Ah.”

You grimace. “It’ll probably hurt.”

To your surprise, he shrugs. “No worse than what gave me the cut, I imagine.”

You hum to yourself and move for the alcohol. “And this might sting.”

“Mm. I’m counting on it.”

Dipping a cloth into the potent liquid, you begin to dab at each open cut that’s painted along his body. Making sure to be as gentle as you can and avoid any potential infections.

He tenses every few moments, jaw ticking as he takes steady, even breaths. But he makes no noise of complaint, nor does he flinch away from your touch. Almost leaning into it as you move between each scratch.

“How’s that?” you whisper, glancing over his face curiously before moving for the cut on his brow. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, red-rimmed eyes trained on you. Seeming to study you while you study his injury. “M’okay. Are you?”

You smile. “Yeah. Don’t like hurting you, though.”

“You’re not. Could never.”

“Hope you’re right.”

You smooth back the dark hairs of his eyebrow as gingerly as you can before reaching for the medical tape. Cutting the strips to the right length, you place a couple over the cut, and step back to observe.

“All right,” you declare. “Now, um…now I’ll need to…”

You both look toward his stomach where the worst gash lies, and he nods. “Where do you want me?”

“Just…there. Is fine.” You collect the needle and thread before crouching down near him in order to get closer. “It shouldn’t take too long. Be over before you know it.”

“All right.” He’s oddly calm, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched, Cherry. I’ll be all right.”

“I can see that,” you mumble to yourself, reaching now for his abdomen. “Just…tell me if it hurts too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

With a deep breath, you pinch his skin between your fingers, and bring the tip of the needle closer. Piercing the skin and threading it through slowly and with great precision.

He looks down, watching for a moment almost as though fascinated. “You’re really good at that.”

You offer a tight-lipped smile. “Should hope so. Spent three years learning how to do it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. My, uh…my parents really wanted me to pursue a career in the medical field,” you explain as you continue working your way down. “And I thought being a nurse would be good because I liked the idea of helping people. And I liked learning about the body and how to heal it.”

His eyes remain on you.

“Anyway, it didn’t…I didn’t have a great experience in medical school,” you continue. “And it made me realize that it wasn’t what I really wanted to do. I wanted to…help people through food, I guess. Which probably sounds silly—”

“No,” he says, almost immediately. “No, it doesn’t.”

You smile a bit bigger. “Well, my parents were pretty pissed when I dropped out. Which makes sense, since they were the ones paying for it. But…they told me that if I wanted to pursue baking, I’d have to do that on my own. Financially, anyway. Hence all the late shifts at the diner.”

His brows furrow together almost sternly.

“And I don’t mind it. I really like working there. I like my coworkers, I like the people I meet.” You pause now and brave a glance up. “And I really like that it brought me to you.”

There’s a softness in his expression that makes your heart skip. “M’glad it brought you to me, too.”

You chew on the inside of your lip to suppress a rather giddy grin before returning your focus to the wound. “All right, your turn.”

“My turn?”

You nod your chin toward his injured body. “Why do you keep letting this happen?”

He sighs, and his stomach tenses with the strained breath. He wears the same look he wears each time you ask, and you already know he’s searching for the right way to deflect the question.

“I don’t know.”

You expected nothing less, yet tonight, you insist upon the truth. Scooting closer as you glance up almost pleadingly. “Where do you go? Who does this to you?”

He hesitates. “Cher—”

“I won’t judge you. I’d never judge you, but this isn’t…Harry, this is really scary. And I want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Another heavy pause as you continue the suture. He contemplates his response, the small bathroom filling with a tense sort of energy. You wonder if the truth hurts him more than the scars.

“I…fight,” he finally says, and you feel your pulse stutter. “I get paid to fight. Three nights a week.”

And even though you’d already begun to assume that was the case, you feel the blood drain from your face. “Harry…”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs quickly, reaching out to brush his thumb along your cheek. “I’m okay.”

You want to argue, but you bite your tongue. Zeroing in your focus on your hands.

“I like it,’ he continues. “Don’t know why, but there’s just…there’s this rush, you know? This adrenaline. Makes me feel alive to be so close to death, I guess.”

You hum quietly, features pulling together in a wince.

“S’about the only thing I’m good at, too,” he adds with a wry chuckle. “And all I have to do is win.”

Your head lifts. “This doesn’t look like a win.”

“Yeah, well. You should’ve seen the other guy.”

And despite his attempt at humor, you look back down, lashes fluttering.

It’s quiet for another long lull before he says, “It’s how I met you.”

You choose to keep your eyes downcast on the needle this time, but your ears perk up.

“One of the guys I work with said your desserts were the best he’d ever had. Said he used to go there all the time, for every fucking meal.”

You pull the thread though his stained skin and he sucks in a sharp breath.

But his story is undeterred. “And I always get kind of a sugar craving after a fight, so I thought I’d go. And then…you.”

You remember the night vividly. The sight of him, hands wrapped in gauze, eyes dark and inquisitive, that familiar hoodie pulled over his head.

He was mysterious and strange, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

You have been ever since.

“And he was right,” Harry whispers now, tucking his finger beneath your chin until he can see you. “Never had anything as sweet as you.”

Your heart returns to your throat, and there’s a sort of longing in your stomach that can’t be tamped. You aren’t sure if you want to laugh or cry, so you merely release a soft sigh and finish closing the wound.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” you ask of him again. “Really?”

He runs his tongue over his cracked lip. “Sometimes.”

“And would they let you leave? If you wanted to?”

The silence is deafening.

His thumb moves to your mouth, brushing over the pink fibers that part for him. “Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to find out.”

It’s not a perfect answer. But it’s the one you choose to cling to, reaching up to squeeze his wrist in desperation.

You suppose this explains more than you realized. Why he won’t tell you who he really is. Why he won’t let you into his world. Why he insists on keeping you safe.

But it only makes this new reality that much heavier.

“Just make me a promise, okay?” you exhale. “Promise me that you’ll be all right. That you’ll stay safe. That you won’t…”

The unspoken word carries a weight that nearly crushes you, and he seems to understand as he squeezes your chin.

“That you’ll always come back,” you finish.

“I promise,” he says, even if you both know it’s not a promise he can make. “Always.”

You kiss him. Quickly and without pause, surging forward until your mouth meets his. You take his lips between your own, careful to mind the cut while remembering just how much he enjoys the sting.

Instantly, his hand curls around the back of your neck, tugging you as close as he can get you. Tongues tangling, teeth clashing, and soft grunts that reverberate all the way down to your chest.

“Careful,” you gasp, attempting to pull back when he guides you between his legs. “Your cut—”

“Don’t care,” he whispers, bringing you back to nip at your bottom lip. “Don’t fucking care.”

You whimper against him, hands resting delicately on his chest. “Har—”

“I know. Just missed you. Really missed you, sweet girl.”

He tugs you between his thighs and you allow yourself to be moved. Melting into his touch as he uses his height advantage to fully take control of you. In more ways than one.

Desperate pants fill the tiny bathroom, and you can’t help but feel undone by him. Already feeling a certain throbbing in the pit of your stomach that can’t be tamed by anything else but him.

“Harry,” you try again, moving your hands to his hair. Carding your fingers through his matted, bloody curls. “Please…”

And then…you feel it. Rather, you feel him. Hard and prominent, pressing right up against you.

You gasp, and he rests his forehead against yours. Cursing to himself when you nudge yourself forward.

And that’s when you realize.

“Does pain turn you on?”

There’s a quick pause before he nods once. Trailing his lips along your cheek and toward your throat.

Your head spins. “Really?”

Another motion of his head. “It’s not really pain when it’s you.”

Breathlessly, you drop your touch to his lap, palming him through his dark jeans while he groans again and buries his nose in your neck. Inhaling you deeply while bracing himself against your knelt frame.

“Think it’s my turn now,” you say. “My turn to be good.”

The grip on your neck tightens, and you can feel him release a warm exhale against your collarbone before he’s kissing just below your ear.

Then, he shakes his head, and mumbles, “No.”

You stop, fingers freezing over the bulge between his thighs. “What?”

“No,” he repeats gently. “S’not about me. Wanna make this about you.”

You lean back just far enough to catch his eye. “But—”

“There are a lot of things I’ll never be able to give you. Or do for you,” he explains gingerly. “But I can do this. I want to do this, sweet girl. Wanna give you the fucking world because it’s what you deserve.”

You consider this for only a moment before settling on the floor. “Har…”

His head shakes once more. Thumb stroking the curve of your jaw while tilting your eyes up. “Never be able to tell you how beautiful you are. I don’t…I can’t even understand it. You’re perfect, Cherry. So fucking perfect, and I will spend the rest of my life wanting to be near you.”

It’s a sweet sentiment. One that nearly knocks the wind from your lungs as you gaze at him.

“Wanting to taste you…” he continues, dipping down to brush his nose against yours. “Feel you…touch you. You…are the best goddamn thing I will ever have.”

You whimper, pushing yourself closer until he finally kisses you. “Then let me…”

But he merely smiles. “One day, sweet girl. I promise.”

You want to push. You almost want to insist that he let you take his cock into your mouth, but the look on his face is resolute. Decisive. You aren’t changing his mind, at least not tonight.

And you decide that maybe it’s for the better. His body needs to rest in order to heal, and perhaps any extra strain would hurt him or rip the stitching.

So, you oblige. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”

With a chuckle, he kisses you again. “Good girl.”

The kisses grow more frantic. About as frantic as before, and you have to physically yank yourself out of his grasp in order to calm yourself down.

“No,” you say this time as you stand. “No, you need to lay down. And rest. Okay? Give your body time to heal. And get better.”

He watches you go, but he’s unconvinced, already looping an arm around your hips to pull you back. “This is how I get better.”

And even though you’re concerned for his health, you can’t deny the pulsing between your thighs. “Harry—”

“You make me better,” he says, trailing his lips along your arms, all the way down to your palms. “Always. Fucking always—”

You whine beneath a strained breath, your other hand dropping to his head as you tug on his hair.

In turn, he moans against you, and your knees about buckle. “Let me get better…please…”

And it’s almost like he doesn’t realize he’s said it. A subconscious thought that’s whispered against your skin until it becomes one with your bloodstream.

“Want to,” you say. “I want to, but you need to rest. I need you to rest, Har.”

“I am,” he tries to argue, glancing up through those thick lashes of his. “This is me resting.”

“Harry—”

“Please,” he nearly groans again, pressing his nose into your stomach. “God, please, Cher. Please. M’so fucking lost on you, I can’t…I need…”

He told you once that you’re like a drug to him. That he goes through withdrawals if you’re not near. If he’s gone too long without you.

And, truthfully, you feel about the same. Feeling strung-out and shaky without his touch. Even the sound of his voice. It’s borderline pathetic, yet you don’t ever want to be rid of him.

“You need to rest,” you repeat, although you’re losing conviction. “I want to, but I can’t…I’m worried. You shouldn’t move, you should rest.”

The air becomes charged as he looks back up. “Then ride my face.”

You hesitate. “What?”

“Ride my face,” he says again, practically groaning the instruction. “S’easy, right? Won’t have to move. I’ll just hold you, yeah?”

You feel the heat rush into your cheeks as you blink down at him. “I…you’re already hurt. I don’t want to suffocate you, too—”

“God, suffocate me,” he sighs, grabbing onto the backs of your thighs. Squeezing the flesh in his strong, battered hands pleadingly. “You’d never hurt me, baby, ever. S’all I fucking want. Don’t want anything else but you. Only you. All of you. Want you everywhere.”

And you believe him. You do. But the idea of…and being that close…

“What…but what if it’s too much?” you murmur. “What if I’m too…—”

“Never.” A firm shake of his head. “Fucking never. You would never be too much. Believe me. Tasting you is the only good thing in my life.”

There’s a catch in your throat that you swallow down. “I just…I’ve never…”

His expression softens. Thumbs brushing at your exposed skin before squeezing once more. “It’s okay. S’okay, sweet girl, really. Don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t have to do anything at all. But…I promise you…you could never do anything wrong. Ever. You breathe and you’re perfect.”

And he’s so honest. So good. You know he means it, know he’d never lie about something like this. And you do trust him. More than anything. Trust that he’d never judge you or want anything more from you than what you’re willing to give.

“If you say no, then it’s no,” he adds gently. “End of. Promise.”

But that’s not your problem. You’d happily do anything and everything with him. But you’re worried about his injuries and all the blood he’s already lost. Granted, his suggestion would perhaps be the best alternative, but…

“Fine,” you whisper, squeezing his curls in your fist. “Okay. But you need to be very careful and very still. And if it starts to hurt, we stop. Okay?”

There’s a wicked gleam in his eye. One you recognize all too well, yet it merely makes your pulse jump.

“Okay,” he agrees, almost mischievously. “Deal. Just lead the way.”

You bite back a whimper before glancing toward his knuckles. “I need wrap your hands first—”

“No,” he interjects. “No, leave ‘em. Just for right now. Wanna see them when I hold you.”

And there’s something about the idea that leaves you breathless, making your nails curl into his scalp as if to drag him closer. “Are you sure—”

“Yes.” He tugs on the hem of your dress again, almost as though trying to rip it off. “Yes, m’sure. Please, Cher…”

And you have no choice but to oblige.

You reach down, take his hand, and pull him onto his feet. Quickly and impatiently leading him out of the bathroom and down the hall to your room before pushing the door open and bringing him inside.

He only takes a moment to look around, eyebrows raised while a smile plays at his lips. He studies the array of artwork you have displayed, the baby blue paint on your walls, and the plethora of pillows that sit near your headboard. He seems…enchanted, almost, and it makes you giddy.

“S’cute,” he decides, offering his smirk to you. “Very cute. Very you.”

“Thanks,” you reply anxiously, already looping your arms around his neck in order to yank him back down. “Please?”

He chuckles against your lips before dropping his hands to your waist, nodding once, and pushing you back. “Do you trust me, baby? Trust me to take care of you?”

“Yes,” you answer instantaneously. “Yes, always.”

“Yeah? Know I’ll take care of you?”

“Yes.”

He drops you onto the bed before chasing after you. Lips on your cheek, your neck, your chest. Fingers playing with the buttons on your chest before he whispers, “Can I take this off, sweet girl?”

You motion your head almost frantically, leaning back to give him room.

He undoes your dress and slips it over your head in a matter of seconds. Leaving you in nothing but your underwear as he tosses it toward the floor before surging forward to kiss you again.

He’s seen you before. Seen your chest, your stomach, your thighs. But never in the privacy of your own home, and the way he seems to look at you now feels as though it changes everything. Like he’s looking at you for the very first time.

“Baby,” he breathes, pulling your lip between his teeth before groaning. “God…s’fucking cruel you have to hide this behind such a hideous dress.”

You grin against his mouth, scooting back in order to make space for him. “Then maybe you should come around and take it off more often.”

He likes this idea, chuckling to himself before grabbing hold of your hips, and flipping over onto his back. Effectively pulling you with him until you’re straddling his waist.

With a gasp, you glance down to his newly stitched cut, quickly inspecting in order to make sure nothing has been ripped or pulled. “Harry, you can’t—”

“Shh,” he coos, pulling on the back of your neck to bring you down again. Nose nudging with yours. “M’okay. I’ll tell you, yeah?”

“But—”

“I’m all right,” he insists quietly. “Promise. Just need you.”

You swallow the rest of your complaints, allowing your body to be pulled into his before he’s moving both hands to your naked thighs. Stroking along the tender, soft flesh and kneading it tenderly.

“Think you’re ready, baby?” he whispers. “Hm? Gonna let me have a taste?”

And even if you’re somewhat apprehensive, the lust that swims within the bottom of your stomach makes you whimper. Urging you to say, “Yes. Yes, I’m ready.”

“Good girl,” he hums, gliding his palms toward your ass before patting it once. “Up you go.”

You imagine you seem somewhat terrified, but his look of encouragement goes straight to your cunt. Encouraging you up his body until you can place your knees on either side of his head.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes already gluing to your panties. “So good, baby. Can you hold onto me? Hold onto my hair? And tug it if it’s too much?”

You nod weakly and drop your fingers to his curls. Brushing them gently while he smiles, lashes fluttering.

“Good girl,” he says again, and it makes you clench around nothing. “M’gonna pull you down now, okay? Don’t worry about anything. Just let me make you feel good. Promise I’ll be all right.”

You whimper beneath a deep breath before nodding again and allowing him to guide you down to his face.

You feel the tip of his nose ghost across the edge of your panties, right near your clit. And you can help but buck up, gasping as you squirm away from the stimulating touch.

But his hold on you is unrelenting, tightening when he feels you twitch before yanking you back into position.

“Uh-uh, sweet girl, none of that,” he warns softly, mouth dancing down your covered cunt. Tauntingly. Deviously. “M’just having some fun, yeah? Gonna let me have fun with such a pretty pussy?”

When you don’t answer, he gently smacks his hand against the side of your thigh.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, gathering his curls in your fist. “Yes, I…I will.”

“Mm. Good. Cause m’having so much fun with you, Cher. You know that? Always have fun getting to play with what’s mine.”

This possession sends chills down your spine and your chest heaves from the way he flattens his tongue against your underwear before dragging it down.

He seems to bask in your whines, moaning against your cunt before curling his fingers into your skin. Forcing you down even further until you’re nearly sat on his mouth.

His technique is sinful. Just enough to tease you and leave you wanting more. Effortlessly casting out any doubts or hesitation as you begin to settle in his hold, permitting him to keep you against his tongue until he sighs contently.

“Fucking killing me, baby,” he says, lifting you up in order to reach for the soft material against your pussy and drag it to the side. “Ready, sweet girl?”

You nod quickly.

“Promise to tug me if it’s too much or you want to stop?”

“Yes…yes, Har, please—”

“I know,” he shushes. “Just so well behaved for me, aren’t you? Hold still for me, all right?”

You go to nod again, but before you can, his lips are meeting your clit. Pressing the most innocent of kisses to the sensitive nerves until you choke on his name and yank his curls.

He seems to realize this aggression has more to do with the pleasure than the pain, and you can practically feel him smirk into your cunt before he does it again. Over and over and over, making your eyes roll back and your throat run dry with desperate pants and whimpers.

Then…he sucks. Takes your clit into his mouth before flattening his tongue and dragging it through.

You’ve never felt this kind of stimulation. This kind of overwhelming pleasure that goes directly to your toes.

Sure, he’s eaten you out before, but he’s never been this…close. He’s devouring you from the inside out. Forcing you against his mouth as though his life depends on it.

The hold on your hip is unforgiving, and you’re almost sure you’ll see remnants of him on your skin tomorrow. The tips of his fingers tattooing to your waist and marking you as his forevermore.

You aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Overcome with lust and infatuation for the man between your thighs. The way he expertly slides his lips through your folds, drowning in you.

The tip of his tongue teases your hole, and you feel him groan at the way your pussy flutters from the slight intrusion. And the vibration of his greed makes your hands tighten in his hair. Nail scraping so hard down his scalp, you’re sure you’ll draw blood.

But he loves it. Seems to thrive off it. Going in a bit further before dragging your arousal up to your clit and flicking.

Then, he swallows you down.

“Harry,” you gasp, and you wish you could see him. Wish more than anything that you could gaze down at his face and watch while he does this to you.

He always tends to get a sort of mesmeric look in his eye when he’s making you cum. Almost like he’s in a trance. Hypnotized by your body, drunk off the way he’s making you feel.

You imagine that’s about how he looks now, and you’d give anything to see those beautiful, hazy eyes just once.

“You’re okay,” he whispers, pulling away just long enough to speak. “You’re okay, yeah?”

You nod quickly. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay. I promise—please…”

He understands your request perhaps better than anyone and smiles to himself before going back in. It’s far too easy to unravel you, it seems. All he has to do is suck, and flick, and slide his mouth along your dripping pussy, and you’re done for. Already nearing release before he’s even really begun.

He senses this, and instantly goes harder. Faster. Tongue fucking into your clenching hole relentlessly until you cry out his name…and let go.

You hardly have time to register what’s happening or warn him of your impending orgasm. Nor do you have the time to remove yourself from him before accidently crushing him between your thighs and beneath your weight.

Yet through every second, he holds on. Keeps you exactly where you were, stuck in his hold, glued to his tongue. Until every drop of your cum belongs to him.

“Har…Harry,” you pant, uncurling your fingers from his hair. “Okay, it’s okay…I came, I—”

“I know,” he mumbles, leaving another kiss to your clit. “And you’re gonna do it again.”

It’s resolute. He leaves no room for bargaining or questioning before he’s going back in. Quick flicks of his tongue through your pussy until you feel breathless.

It’s sloppy. Everything about it is sloppy and wet. The sounds, his technique. The way he makes out with your cunt as though it’s the best thing he’s ever had. And, truthfully, you imagine he believes it is.

He repeats the movement of his tongue along the overstimulated nerves until you begin to shake. Never letting up, even when you begin to whine rather pitifully. Instead, he squeezes your waist, and keeps you close. Makes sure you take every second of this blissful affliction until you cum for a second time.

The moment you do, he readjusts his hold on your panties in order to slip a finger inside. Forcing you up onto your knees so he can nip at your clit and fuck his finger into you with a newly determined fervor.

“Harry,” you cry out again, moving one hand to your headboard to brace yourself. “Can’t…can’t—”

“You’re all right,” he hums, the tip of his nose pressing hard into your skin. “You’re all right, sweet girl. Just want one more, okay?”

And you believe him. You do believe you’re all right, even if the painful pleasure he’s dragging you into nearly kills you. Making your legs shake and your lungs heave.

You want to give him another. You want to give him all of your orgasms, forever. And he knows this, so he adds a second finger, and pumps you mercilessly.

The sound echoes through your room, loud and lewd. But it intertwines beautifully with his soft murmurs of encouragement:

“Good, baby, just like that. Fucking squeezin’ me, aren’t you? Hm? S’it feel good? Feel so good to ride my face?”

You can’t answer. Want to. Can’t. Skin growing hot as sweat beads at your hairline. Muscles burning, aching, crying out for reprieve.

But all you really feel…is him.

“One more, come on,” he urges, increasing the speed of his tongue and his thrusts. “Can feel how close you are, sweet girl. Know you want to, yeah?”

You whimper softly, body tensing with the impending release.

“Yeah? I know. Know you’re so close. Bet it hurts, doesn’t it? S’just too much for this sweet little pussy, hm?”

He curls those long digits into your cunt until you moan, thighs trembling beside his head as you attempt to keep yourself upright. “Har, please—”

“What? What do you need?”

Everything, all of it, whatever it takes. You aren’t even sure, you just need…more.

He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg. Kissing and sucking into the tender skin while his fingers continue to encourage you closer.

“Just taste so good, don’t you?” He trails his lips back toward your cunt. Lazily mouthing at your clit as if to torture you. “Get so wet for me. S’precious. So fucking precious.”

He uses his fingers to spread you open. Exhaling against your dripping cunt until you begin to squirm. Writhing away from the sensation while he does it again.

“Mm-mm,” he tuts, pulling you closer. “Told you no, sweet girl. Said I could play with you, so I am. Thought you were behaving for me?”

He exploits your need to please him. To obey and win his approval, and it nearly drives you mad.

“Know it’s a lot, baby,” he coos next, slipping back inside and curling. “Know you’re all sensitive. Not used to being so overstimulated, are you?”

He’s right, you’re not. Apart from him, nobody else has ever really taken the time.

“Makes me wonder,” he continues gently. “Wonder how you touch yourself…here in this very room.”

He pulls your clit between his teeth and tugs until you gasp.

“Tell me, Cherry. Tell me how you touch yourself when I’m not around.”

Your mind goes blank. Darkening around the edges while you suck in quick pants for air.

“Tell me,” he repeats, coarse and riddled with an insatiable hunger. “Tell me what you think about. D’you think about me, baby? Think about how good you look on my tongue?”

You find just enough strength to nod as you squeeze his curls and whimper out your agreement.

“Yeah? Go on, tell me.”

Your mouth drops open, yet nothing else comes out. Save for a plethora of pathetic whines and anxious mewling.

He seems to laugh, the low sound sending goosebumps across the back of your neck. “What’s the matter, Cher? Pussy got your tongue?”

You can hardly acknowledge the joke as you go reeling forward, just barely able to catch yourself against the headboard before collapsing. “You…you,” you finally groan. “Always you, Harry. Always.”

“Me?” You can hear the faux fascination. “You think about me, baby? What do you think about?”

What don’t you think about? “Your…your fingers,” you stammer. “And…and your mouth.”

“Yeah? Good girl. What else?”

You’re too close to think straight, already falling victim to your orgasm before it’s even found you. “You…your…your…”

“S’okay, baby, come on. Tell me.”

You swallow thickly and will yourself to speak. “Think…think about taking you. About how you’d feel. How you’d…be.”

“How I’d be, hm?” The hand on your hip tightens almost possessively. “How would you want me to be? How would you want me to fuck you?”

An array of positions flash through your mind. The echoing of his groans and pants in your ear as he fucks you. The way he’d hold onto your leg and push it into the bed. The way he’d pull your hair and demand you take him. That you behave, be good.

There’s something about him, you realize. Something about his dominance that makes you feel safe. Seen and cared for.

You want him to tell you what to do. Want to give him full control of your body and mind. Make your decisions for you so you don’t have to wrestle with them yourself. You trust him. Trust that he’d always put you first.

“Any way you want,” you finally answer. “Any…any way. Hard…slow…fast…deep. Just wanna be good for you.”

The noise he makes against your pussy is animistic. Virile and obsessed, and his mouth reattaches to your clit almost like a reward.

“Good,” he nearly growls. “Know you would be. Know you’d be fucking perfect, yeah? Let me stretch this sweet, little pussy anyway I’d like?”

“Yes. Yes, Harry, please—”

“Just take it, wouldn’t you? Take me so well?” He yanks you down so hard, you wonder if he can even breathe. Truthfully, you don’t think he cares either way. “What else do you think about, sweet girl? Think about me tying you up?”

You nod zealously, sneaking a glance at the headboard almost as though to recreate your fantasy.

“Yeah? What else? Would you want me to spank you?” He follows this inquiry up with a quick – albeit gentle – slap to your outer thigh. “S’that what you want?”

“Harry—”

“What about your pretty, little throat, hm? D’you want me to hold it in my hand? Squeeze it till you see stars?”

The thought sends you into a frenzy. Stomach flipping in on itself until you’re clenching so hard around his fingers, you’re surprised they don’t break.

“Yeah? Oh, sweet girl,” he coos, slowly and almost inconspicuously sneaking a third digit into play. Filling you exactly the way you need. “My dirty little Cherry just wants to be taken care of, doesn’t she?”

You have nothing more to offer him. No more noises, no more whines, no more pleas. Your throat has gone dry, and your body is trembling almost violently.

He grins. “Then I’ll always take care of what’s mine.”

You’re not sure what does it. If it’s the way he strokes his fingers into that sweet spot in your cunt, the way he skims his tongue against your clit, or if it’s his promise.

But no matter the cause, your third orgasm overwhelms you. Pulls you down into the deepest part of your pleasure before ripping you apart. Seam by seam.

He swallows every second of it. Attempting to drag the stimulation on for as long as he can before you have to psychically take yourself away in order to breathe.

“Okay, okay,” you whimper, returning to the bed just beside him. “Can’t…I can’t…”

“Okay,” he agrees in a soft, soothing tone. Quicky reaching out to press his hand to your cheek while his thumb brushes at your heated skin. “Okay, we’re done. Did so good for me.”

Your lashes flutter as your vision slowly returns, and when you see him, you about moan.

During his ravaging of your pussy, the cut on his lip reopened, and now, blood is smeared across his mouth and chin. Glistening from his skin right beside the remnants of you.

You don’t imagine you’ve ever seen something so erotic. You also never imagined you’d find it so appealing, and yet the way it looks painted across his sharp jaw and swollen lips…

You surge forward and kiss him. So hard and so fast, you imagine you’ve made him dizzy.

Instantly, his palm is pressing to the back of your head. Keeping you against his mouth while slowly pulling you back into his embrace. And he holds you against his chest while moaning something that sounds a lot like, “Fucking hell.”

You kiss until the sun comes up. The soft, warm beams of light slipping through your curtains, setting the whole room – and your tired bodies – aglow.

His mouth moves to your neck. “You still with me, baby?”

You smile. “Always.”

“Good.” He leaves one, final kiss. “And you’re feeling all right?”

“Mhm. Are you?”

“Oh, I’m more than all right, sweet girl. M’fucking perfect.”

He guides back onto his chest. Limbs tangling together as he puts your body between his legs until he can hold you properly. Even despite your fussing over his injuries.

But it’s not until you’ve begun to settle that you feel it. “Harry?” you whisper softly.

“Mm?”

“…did you cum?”

He smiles before pressing his lips to your forehead. “Yeah.”

“But I didn’t…I mean I didn’t get to—"

“You just have that effect on me, Cher,” he murmurs, snaking his arms a bit tighter around your frame. “Told you. Making you feel good is all I want.”

You glance up, expression wounded. “Why won’t you let me help? I thought…I mean, you keep saying you want me to, but you never…you won’t let me.”

The bedroom falls silent as he considers this. The sage green in his eye melting into something golden from the reflection of the sunrise.

He reaches out and brushes his thumb across your mouth. Seeming to clean you of the blood that smeared when you kissed.

“I didn’t want this to be about me,” he finally says. “I never do.”

You merely frown. “But I want to do it. Do you not…I mean, do you think I can’t or something?”

A soft chuckle. “Oh, I know you can. Know you’d use this pretty little mouth just right, yeah?”

You nod.

“Yeah.” He squeezes your chin. “I meant what I said. One day. There are a lot of things I want to do with you. Be for you. But right now, I can’t…I’m not in a place where I can offer them to you. Not with…everything else going on.”

Your stomach sinks as you realize. You might not understand the complexities of his job or his life, but you do understand his concern. And you trust that he doesn’t make this decision lightly.

“Besides,” he adds coyly, “they kind of have a rule about it.”

“Oh, do they?”

“Yeah. Something about reduced testosterone and decreased aggression. I don’t know, s’probably bullshit.” A nonchalant shrug. “Just means I get to keep the focus on you. Which is all I really want, anyway.”

“I can tell,” you tease, reaching up to brush your nose against his. “Why is that?”

“Because you’re perfect.” He says it so easily. As though it needs no thought. “Baby, you have no fucking idea how beautiful you are. Touching you is the closest I will ever get to heaven.”

You wonder how he does that. How he always manages to say exactly what you need to hear. And make you believe it. Every time.

You kiss him again, but it’s slow. Soft and gentle and full of an unspoken emotion that nearly overwhelms you.

You fall asleep against his heart. His lips in your hair, your fingers on his chest. And for the next few hours, you dream of nothing but him.

By the time you wake, it’s nearly afternoon. Your muscles are sore and your body aches from the decisions and positions of the night before.

But it’s a good sort of pain. The kind that reminds you of how willing you are to do it again.

You’re both quiet as you stir, and it’s comfortable. As though you’re used to waking up together. Exchanging nothing more than smiles and a hoarse, “Morning.”

After offering him some cereal, you ask if he’d like to take a shower. Maybe change into something else before you take him back to the diner so he can retrieve his car and you can pick up yours from your friend.

He politely declines, but he does agree to your stipulation that you check his wounds before you leave. He even stands perfectly still while you assess each cut and stitch in order to make sure everything is still in place.

Which to your surprise, it is.

Once you’ve gathered your things, you exit your apartment (after locking it as previously instructed), and head for the subway station.

It’s almost strange to see him in the light of day. He’s still as effortlessly striking as before, if not perhaps more. His skin looks a bit more tan, and his hair seems softer in the sun. But he walks with a kind of confidence you almost envy, slinging his arm around your shoulders just like the night before. This time, out of possession.

And you grin the whole way there.

It feels normal. Feels good. Natural. Like it was always meant to be. You and him. Always.

Your heart begins to sink with each step closer you get to the diner. You cling to his hoodie as though it physically hurts to say goodbye. And in turn, he pulls you in tighter to his heart, as if refusing to let you.

“I’ll walk you in,” he murmurs once you reach the parking lot, and you nod gratefully. Already taking in a deep breath as you prepare to watch him leave.

You see your car near the front of the diner, signaling that your friend is here to drop off the keys. And you almost feel nervous because you aren’t sure how to explain Harry. Or if you even need to explain him at all.

If he’d want you to.

A part of you wants to protect him from everybody else. From their prying eyes and inquisitive questions. From their haughty, judgmental stares and this idea that they know who he really is.

Instead, you take his hand in yours, and squeeze. Offering him one last smile to hold you over until you see him again.

Which you can only hope will be soon.

He pushes the door open and leads you inside. Loosening his grip on you almost regretfully while your heart sinks down into your toes.

But the moment you both step beneath the light, he stops. Suddenly and with a strained inhale as fingers retighten around yours, halting you in place.

Concerned, you glance over the side of his face rather curiously before following his eyeline further into the diner.

And that’s when you see him.

“Hey, thanks again for letting me borrow your car,” your friend says, sliding off one of the barstools in order to hand you your keys. “I really appreciate it. It was a huge help.”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” you murmur before looking back to the tense man beside you. “Uh…this is my friend, Jesse. And Jesse, this is—”

“Harry,” Jesse says for you, lips curling up almost knowingly before he’s nodding once.

Now even more confused, your head tilts while Harry’s skin instantly pales, his jaw clenching as his grip on your hand gets stronger.

But despite your muddled expression, Jesse merely chuckles to himself and steps forward, dragging his eyes from you to the tall stranger holding you.

“I see you finally found my girl.”

EEEEE I AM HAVING WAY TOO MUCH FUN

Next Part:

~ Reckless*

Previous Part:

~ Knockout*

~ Full Knockout Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgff@myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge @percysaidnever @prettydelilah @ripesinner @fairytale07 @hannah9921 @mitochondrialeva-blog1 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @buckybarnessimpp @lomlhstyles @be-with-me-so-happily @daphnesutton @ribbonknives @stylesfever @slutforcoffein @rainycowbride @harringtonhundreds @kaybee87 @youcan-nolonger-run @tobesocoldasyou @dylanobandposts21 @cherryshouse

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stevesjockstrap · 1 year ago

Text

Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?

Based on this post

Or, Steve invites Craigslist!Eddie to Thanksgiving as his fake boyfriend for entertainment and drama purposes

Rated: T? Always with the swearing idk | read on ao3

ETA a/n: shout out to @rocknrollsalad for a direct quote in here and putting up with me and @machtaholic for encouraging this 🖤

“Are you serious?”

Steve sighed. “Yes, Robbie. You know how much my parents have been on me since they’re losing what little power they have left. This is going to be awesome.”

She was pacing around their living room, making him anxious. “But why are you going to take this stranger from Craigslist? Why can’t you find someone you know? Argyle would do it. What if this guy doesn’t show, or he comes and steals something?”

“If he doesn’t show I’m in the same boat anyhow, but hey, there’s a thought. You think I can pay him more to steal something from my parents? I’d love to see that.”

“Steve!” She rounded on him, eyes wide. “You’re paying him? You didn’t tell me that!”

“For fuck’s sake, Rob. He didn’t ask for money, the post actually said he would do it just for food. But the guy’s driving half an hour and I’m willing to bet my family is worse than he’s expecting. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy. Read this and tell me this isn’t exactly what I need.” He scrolled on his phone and handed it to her.

Her shoulders relaxed as she read on, laughing finally, “You’re not going to make him propose or fight your dad on the front lawn, right?”

“Maybe for Christmas,” he smirked.

His parent’s house was always so cold and empty. It was his childhood home but he had never really felt any attachment to it. His apartment with Robin was small and cluttered but cozy, and full of memories of them and their friends. They had done a Friendsgiving the previous weekend that had been a dangerously good time. (The smoke detector had only gone off three times, a new record.)

Running his hand through his hair again, he looked at the clock. Would Eddie show? He checked his phone again, knowing there were no missed texts because he had just looked thirty seconds ago. Why was he more nervous about meeting him than introducing him to his family? They’d had one phone call and some texts, mostly arranging the time and place and Steve already apologizing for his family.

Eddie had laughed, “It’s okay, Steve. Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”

He went to the bathroom, just to kill time.

And of course the doorbell rang.

He quickly washed and dried his hands, sparing a second to pull his hair into a less raked-through mess.

Quickening his pace when he saw his mom still holding the door open, not allowing whoever was on the stoop in, he craned his neck to see out the door.

Oh fuck.

“If you’d just go get him, ma’am, we could clear this all up,” Eddie was saying. The words were polite but there was an edge to them, just the tinge of a sneer on his lips. It was perfect.

“He’s mine,” he heard himself say. His mom whipped around, eyes crazed and mouth open. “Uh- I mean,” his eyes returned to Eddie standing on his doorstep. Taking in the long thick wavy hair, big brown eyes, his lips pulled into a toothy grin now. He’d clearly attempted to dress up, grey slacks and a black button down, paired with heavy combat boots. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal tattoos up his forearms and the backs of his hands. There were more tattoos on his neck, and Steve’s eyes glued themselves to the ring through his lip. Guh. “He’s, uh, here for me.”

“Hi Steve,” he watched the lips form. “Was just meeting your lovely mother.” Again there was nothing wrong with the words themselves, nothing anyone could pinpoint or take offense to. But that slithery way he said it with a razor sharp sting, Steve was impressed. He was clearly an expert at this.

Steve tried to school his own expression and voice. “My apologies. Mom, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”

There was a long silence where he thought his mom was going to combust. She opened and closed her mouth several times, her eyebrows furrowed. He’d never seen her speechless before.

Eddie sent him a smirk and he almost matched it but his mom looked at him finally and stammered, “Y-your, ah, I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. When she opened them she asked, “He’s your boyfriend?”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie answered from almost behind her now as she turned to question Steve.

“And why is it you didn’t tell us he was coming? Why is he ringing the doorbell like a stranger?”

“I, um, well I did think he’d text when he got here or something…” Steve started, meeting Eddie’s eyes over her shoulder.

“What, and miss out on this warm welcome?” Eddie winked at him but quickly settled his face when his mom turned to him. Doing the exact thing he’d hoped for, Mrs. Harrington remembering she’s leaving a guest out on her doorstep.

Steve delighted in the fact that this was going to be a chess match and his mother was already several moves behind.

Her eyes narrowed and she held a hand out to welcome Eddie in, walking them all into the foyer. “Well, don’t let me stop you, go ahead and greet your boyfriend, Steven.”

It was a challenge, he knew, but they hadn’t discussed this. Eddie was on the ball, however. He continued his momentum to slide a hand under Steve’s suit jacket to settle on his ribs and the other he brought up to cup his face, leaning in and angling their heads together. Steve tried to relax and closed his eyes. Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but from where his mom was standing she wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Hey, baby. Missed you,” he breathed when he pulled away. Steve was halfway to believing this himself.

“Yeah,” he sighed stupidly.

Eddie pulled his hands away and he almost reached back for them before stopping himself with a shake. He found he’d only gone a foot away when he opened his eyes though. Oh he was in trouble.

His mother cleared her throat from behind Eddie like she hadn’t put them up to this. Steve reached out for his hand and held onto it.

“Okay so I’m going to go introduce him to everyone else,” he said quickly and walked further into the house. Holding his hand.

They made their way through the dining room, Steve taking more and more pleasure with each stilted interaction Eddie weaved through with his family members.

His dad was propped in the living room with his uncle and Steve could feel his eyes on him as they made their way around. He knew his mother had ran to tell him all about it but he wouldn’t take being ignored well. It was making his skin crawl but he knew it would further piss off his dad so he kept it up.

After everyone else had been formally introduced to Eddie and Steve had gulped half a glass of wine, he felt almost ready to go deal with him. He took Eddie’s hand again and turned, but navigated them to the sliding glass door and outside instead.

It was chilly, late November in Indiana, but it felt amazing after the stuffiness of the house.

Steve remembered he still had Eddie’s hand in his and he quickly dropped it. “Uh, you smoke?”

Eddie grinned, all teeth and tongue as he held a battered pack of Newports out to him. “Not usually, really, but it makes for a good prop. Sorry they’re shit.”

“Holy shit. You’re amazing. I mean- perfect, I mean- fuck.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “The on-the-spot fact checking of my aunt’s political shit was next level. You could do this year round and make a killing, man.” He did pull a cigarette out of the pack and Eddie leaned into him, clicking the lighter for him, meeting his eyes as Steve sucked in.

“I don’t-“

The door slid open behind them and Mr. Harrington walked out.

“Looks like you and your date are avoiding me, Steven,” he said. Steve watched as he gave Eddie a very slow up and down look.

“No, dad. Just needed a break. It’s warm in there.” He made his face remain neutral. It’s not like anyone was cooking anything, his mom always got their big family meals catered.

His dad narrowed his eyes at him as he held eye contact, taking a drag from his bummed cigarette.

“Where is Robin today?”

He sighed. “With her family, dad. And for the last time, I’m not dating Robin. She’s a lesbian. This is Eddie, by the way. My date? He’s my boyfriend.”

When Steve had tried to come out as bisexual to his parents, his dad especially had made it clear that he did not accept that about his only child. As the years went on and he hadn’t spoken much about this part of his life, it seemed his dad had hoped it just went away.

Mr. Harrington scoffed, “I don’t understand why you want to throw your life away, Steven. I thought we’d raised you better-“ Eddie made a noise next to him and Steve knew he couldn’t look at him or he’d burst out laughing.

“Save it, dad. Believe it or not I love my life. Which is something I’d never thought I would be able to say. Can you even say that?”

His dad shook his head disappointedly and walked back inside.

“Excellent job. I don’t think you need me here after all,” Eddie joked.

Steve propped himself against the wall of the house, deeply tired from having to defend his choices to his dad for the umpteenth time.

“Maybe not need. But it’s been really fun having you here. Usually dinner conversation is about how big of a disappointment I am. Oh, I guess I didn’t give you that backstory. I’m graduating with my masters in psychology in the spring, and I’ve been early accepted into a PhD program. And there’s no money in helping people,” he chuckled. “So.” He scuffed out the butt with his heel and left it on his dad’s pristine patio.

“Steve. That’s amazing! Congratulations.” Eddie seemed genuinely excited for him and it brought a small smile to his face. “You look like you could really use a hug, man. Can I hug you?”

“Of course.” If he let himself hold on for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, Eddie allowed it.

Dinner was quiet. His uncle asked Eddie what he did for work and he enthusiastically explained he was a line cook and worked nights at a bar. Steve surreptitiously looked around to take in everyone’s expressions and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin. He actually enjoyed himself during a holiday dinner for the first time he could remember.

Eddie at one point threw an arm around the back of his chair and he leaned in a bit into him, catching the disapproving stares they got from the corner of his eye.

Pie was passed around and by then Steve had had another glass of wine or two. He reached over to thumb the whipped cream from the side of Eddie’s lip without thinking, before popping the thumb into his own mouth. Eddie’s eyes widened and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he caught himself.

“Thanks, babe,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

After saying their awkward goodbyes to everyone, Steve walked Eddie to his van. He looked down at his feet, fiddling with his keys.

“Hey, um, this may be out of left field and let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Eddie waited for Steve to nod. “Do you want to come to my uncle’s with me tomorrow night? It’s just the two of us and he always volunteers to work the holiday. But we do a thing, you know. A-and he’s always bugging me to bring someone.”

Steve blinked. “Would it have to be a fake date? I’m not as skilled at that as you are.”

“No, I mean, it wouldn’t- god I suck. I’m actually asking, like for real. If that’s okay? Just be you. And I’ll just be me.”

“That’s very okay. I’d really like that.” He couldn’t hold back his smile. Taking the chance, he leaned in, Eddie meeting him in the middle to finally press their lips together.

#mine #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre Steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #Steve x Eddie #Steve/eddie

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rose24207 · 1 month ago

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No, you’re not

Summary: You and Lando have been inseparable since childhood, both secretly in love with each other but too afraid to confess—he believes you deserve better than him, and you think his flings mean he could never see you that way, leaving your feelings tangled in unspoken fears of ruining your lifelong friendship.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: wow this is a long request! Thank you!! I really hope it’s like how you wanted it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Based of this request

Masterlist

The Brazil Grand Prix had always been one of Lando’s toughest races. The circuit wasn’t just a test of his skill; it was a mental and physical marathon. This year was no different. After a grueling 71 laps that left him finishing far from where he wanted to be, he was wrung out, mentally frayed, and questioning every decision he’d made during the weekend. The lack of sleep afterward didn’t help, and by the time he boarded the flight back to Monaco, he was barely holding himself together.

All he wanted was to get home and shut the world out. No cameras, no engineers pointing out his mistakes, no fans bombarding him with well-meaning but exhausting messages. Just silence.

Except, as soon as he opened his front door, he realized he wasn’t going to be alone.

The lights in the living room were dim, but the faint glow of the TV illuminated the familiar figure curled up on his couch. You.

Lando’s heart squeezed at the sight of you, a feeling so achingly familiar it was almost painful. You were his best friend—the one constant in his life, the one person who saw him as just Lando, not a Formula 1 driver, not a public figure, just the boy you’d grown up with.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You were his best friend. The girl he’d been in love with since he was sixteen. The girl who deserved better than someone like him.

You looked up when the door clicked shut, your eyes immediately finding his in the dim light. “Finally,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “I was starting to think you’d sleep at the airport.”

Lando let out a breathless laugh, dropping his bag by the door. “Not sure I’d get much sleep there either.” He leaned against the wall, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I figured you’d be in a mood, so I let myself in.” You gestured to the half-empty bowl of soup on the coffee table. “I also raided your fridge. You really need to go grocery shopping.”

Lando shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “How’d you even get here?”

“I have a key, remember?” you said with a smirk. “And I used that thing called a car. Revolutionary, really.”

He rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his chest spread. You were always like this—casual, unbothered, always knowing exactly what he needed before he even realized it himself.

You stood and crossed the room, your smile fading as you got a closer look at him. “You look terrible,” you said, your voice dropping into that soft, concerned tone that always made his chest tighten.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“I mean it,” you said, tugging gently on the sleeve of his hoodie as if inspecting him. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“That’s because I haven’t,” he admitted.

You frowned, your eyes narrowing. “Lando...”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, though the hoarseness of his voice betrayed him.

“No, you’re not.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the couch. He let you, too tired to argue. “Sit. You need to eat something, drink something, and then sleep for about a year.”

He dropped onto the couch with a groan, sinking into the cushions. You draped a blanket over him before disappearing into the kitchen. He could hear you rummaging around, the sound of a kettle boiling, the clink of a spoon against a mug.

When you returned, you handed him a steaming cup of tea. “Drink,” you ordered, sitting beside him.

He took the cup and cradled it in his hands, the warmth seeping into his skin. He stared at the liquid for a moment before taking a small sip. It burned his tongue, but he didn’t care.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

“Do what?”

“Take care of me.”

You snorted. “Someone has to. God knows you’re useless at it.”

He looked up at you then, and the small smile on your face made his chest ache. “I mean it,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t have to... be here. I’ll be fine.”

You frowned, your brow furrowing in that way it always did when you were worried about him. “Of course I do,” you said softly. “You’re my best friend, Lando. Where else would I be?”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? You were always there. Always caring, always looking out for him, always steady and dependable. And he was... what? A mess. A guy who jumped from fling to fling, trying—and failing—to get you out of his head.

He knew what you thought of him. You’d never said it outright, but he could see it in the way you’d roll your eyes whenever you saw another headline about him with some random girl. You thought he wasn’t serious. That he couldn’t be serious. And maybe you were right. Maybe he wasn’t capable of being the kind of man you deserved.

“How was the race?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Bad,” he said simply.

“You want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, letting his head fall back against the couch. “Not really.”

You nodded, not pushing him. Instead, you shifted closer, your shoulder brushing against his. He felt your warmth seep into him, and for a moment, he let himself relax.

“Did you eat?” you asked after a while.

“Not really.”

You sighed and stood. “Stay here. I’ll heat up the rest of the soup.”

He watched as you disappeared into the kitchen, his chest tightening with every step you took. You were too good to him. Too good for him.

By the time you came back, holding a bowl of steaming soup, he’d convinced himself to push his feelings down again, to keep them buried where they couldn’t hurt you.

“Here,” you said, handing him the bowl. “Eat.”

He took the bowl and set it on his lap, picking up the spoon. “Thanks.”

You sat beside him again, watching as he ate in silence.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.

“I’m not babysitting you,” you said with a shrug. “I’m being a good friend.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re too good at it.”

You smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The only sounds were the clink of his spoon against the bowl and the faint hum of the TV.

“Lando,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked up at you, his heart skipping a beat at the way you were looking at him—like you could see right through him.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said. “Whatever’s going on in your head... you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. You always knew exactly what to say, exactly how to pull him back from the edge.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his.

And in that moment, he realized that no matter how much he tried to push you away, no matter how much he convinced himself that he didn’t deserve you, you would always be there.

And that terrified him more than anything.

Thank you for reading!

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando x you #f1 #fluff #angst #formula 1 #formula one

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hoe4hotchner · 1 month ago

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New Years Eve | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 1k | CW: Fluff, fireworks, new years eve, first kiss.

The soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald's voice played in the background as it filled Rossi’s living room. The BAU team had gathered to celebrate New Year’s Eve, though the invitation had invited them to party in style the emphasis of the party leaned more toward cozy than extravagant. Fairy lights twinkled across the walls, and a fire crackled in the hearth, making the winter night outside feel miles away.

You stood in the kitchen, carefully pouring champagne into a cluster of fluted glasses, mindful of the bubbling foam. The air was scented with cinnamon and cloves from the mulled wine simmering on the stove while the faint sound of laughter spilled in from the living room. Hotch leaned casually against the counter beside you, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up in a rare sign of relaxation. His eyes flicked toward you every few moments, the corners crinkling when you glanced back at him.

“You don’t have to do all of this,” he said, his voice low and warm, almost lost beneath the clink of glasses.

“Someone’s got to keep things running smoothly,” you teased, placing the bottle on the counter before reaching for another glass in the cabinet overhead. “Besides, you’re not exactly rushing to help.”

He chuckled softly and stepped closer. His hand brushed against yours as he picked up one of the glasses, sending a flicker of warmth up your arm. “I think you’ve got it under control. But for the record, I’m ready to step in if things get out of hand.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Agent Hotchner.”

The gentle banter was interrupted as Jack burst into the kitchen, his cheeks pink from running around. He skidded to a stop, his excitement making him bounce on his toes. “Dad! We're playing charades, and Uncle Derek’s losing so bad!”

Hotch laughed, ruffling Jack’s hair with an affection that softened his entire face. “Is that so? Maybe I should go rescue him before he kicks down a door.”

You grinned, watching as Jack tugged his dad toward the living room. You followed with the tray of glasses. Before settling down with the others on the couches, you paused to grab a spare blanket from the basket near the fireplace in case the night’s chill crept inside. The living room was alive, and the team was in various stages of jokes and games. Morgan was mid-performance, flapping his arms in what you guessed was supposed to be a bird, while Reid shouted increasingly wild guesses from his spot near the fireplace.

“A chicken? No, a swan! Wait, a penguin?”

Emily doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach. “Why would he be a penguin?”

“You don’t know! Penguins are very expressive creatures,” Reid retorted, crossing his arms defensively, which only made Emily laugh harder.

Rossi raised his glass from his spot on the couch, smirking. “This might be the best entertainment I’ve had all year.”

“Careful, Dave,” you said. “We still have two hours left. Plenty of time for things to get even better.”

JJ stood, her phone in hand, and called out, “Alright, everyone, time for pictures! Before we get too… uh, spirited.” Her eyes flicked meaningfully toward the half-empty bottle of wine in Garcia’s hand.

Garcia gasped in mock offense, clutching the bottle to her chest. “Excuse me, Jennifer, I am always perfectly composed.”

“Sure you are,” Emily quipped, pulling her up from the couch.

The group crowded together in front of the fireplace, where Rossi insisted on setting the timer so everyone could be in the shot. Hotch’s hand found the small of your back as you squeezed into the frame, his touch steady and warm through the fabric of your sweater. Without thinking, you leaned into him, the moment so natural it didn’t even register until the flash went off.

The rest of the night flowed like the champagne. Stories were shared, laughter echoed through the house, and Jack eventually fell asleep in a pile of blankets, his head resting on your lap. Hotch sat beside you, his posture relaxed as he nursed a glass of wine. His hand brushed against yours again, his fingers warm as they tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The intimacy didn’t go unnoticed; Emily sent you a look from across the room, silently telling you that an interrogation would be scheduled in the new year, but she said nothing.

As the clock approached midnight, Rossi produced a box of sparklers, and the group bundled up to step outside. The cold air bit at your cheeks and made your breath visible in soft puffs, but the sight of the glittering sky, clear and dotted with stars, was worth it. Jack woke up just in time to light a sparkler with his dad.

When the countdown began, you found yourself standing next to Hotch again, your breath mingling in the crisp night air.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

The voices grew louder, for a moment, you thought about stepping away, about playing it safe. But when the clock struck midnight, Hotch turned to you.

“Happy New Year,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the cheers of the others.

“Happy New Year,” you replied, the words barely leaving your lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he kissed you. It didn't take long for the sparks of fireworks to ignite the sky, setting the background for your first kiss.

When you pulled back, your cheeks felt warm despite the cold, you noticed the team trying (and failing) to act nonchalant. Morgan’s grin was wide enough to split his face, and Garcia looked ready to combust with glee.

“Alright, everyone inside,” Rossi called, clapping his hands together. “Let’s toast to the new year properly.”

As you followed the others back into the house, Hotch’s hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt as natural as breathing. And as you raised your glass to toast with the team, surrounded by laughter and love, you couldn’t imagine a better way to start the year.

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clemswinecorner · 3 months ago

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Birthday [Harry Lewis/W2S]

Summary: You and Harry have barely been dating when his birthday rolls around.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: swearing probably, nothing major

Happy Birthday to our favourite!! In honour of his birthday, I wrote this (don't mind this being published when his birthday only has like an hour left)

Main Masterlist

You and Harry had only been romantically involved with each other for a month or two when his birthday rolled around. You’d sent him a birthday text in the morning, of course, but didn’t see him until later in the day. He spent the morning with the Sidemen recording some golf video, and them and his friends would all meet up at his around 5 p.m. You were kind of nervous when you showed up, because it was your boyfriend’s birthday. Especially because the relationship was still so new, you were a bit nervous about how it would go and what the deal would be. You knew his friends since you’d met through Josh years ago, being Freya’s lifelong best friend. You made your way into the friend group when you moved to London, and had celebrated his birthday with him plenty of times before, but this year was different. It was Josh who opened the door, not Harry, and you greeted him with a smile.

“Ah, look who’s here!” You give him a quick hug and greet Callum, who was just walking out of his room, with a smile. “I’ll tell him you got here, yeah?” He says, before he walks back to the living room. Harry’s roommates were both aware that you guys are more than friends, though you hadn’t explicitly told them. You’ve just taken off your coat and shoes when Harry walks in. “Oh, hello,” you turn around to him and smile. “Hey birthday boy,” you smile, holding out your hands for a hug, which he accepts. You smell the sweet cologne he usually wears when recording on his hoodie, as he holds you tight. You lean back, still looking at his face with your hands around his neck. “Happy birthday, my love!” You smile, placing a kiss on his lips. You can feel a smile form on his face as he pulls you closer to him. “Thank you, baby. Glad you could make it,” you jokingly roll your eyes. “What, you think I’d miss your birthday? I haven’t in years,” He lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, no, you haven’t. You look really nice, by the way,” he tells you, finally able to check you out. “Thank you. Now, do you want your present now or later?” You ask, and you interrupt him before he’s able to talk. “I know I didn’t have to get you anything, but I wanted to,” He smiles at your kindness, “Okay, thank you. I don’t know, I think a few people want to do it during dinner, but up to you,” You nod and think about it for a second. “I’ll give it later, then,” you say, dropping your tote bag on the floor. He nods, and walks back into the living room, with you following him. You greet everyone enthusiastically, not having seen most of them for a while.

At around half six, Harry walked up to you, nudging your side. You turn your attention away from Simon, who you were in conversation with. “I’m going to get changed, and then we’re going, yeah?” You nod, excusing yourself as you put down your empty glass. You quickly pack two wrapped presents out of your bag, before you walk into his bedroom. He turns around, his shirt already off. You still weren’t tired of that view, and you shameless looked him up and down. He was already in his black trousers, and it was a shame he had to put on a shirt. “Sorry, could’ve knocked,” You softly say, and he shakes his head, “No it’s fine, was just confused who it was.” He sticks his arms through the sleeves, and god, this shouldn’t be as hot as it is. You sit on his bed, and he looks at you curiously as he buttons his shirt. “Sorry, just admiring my view,” you admit, and you can see a slight blush spreading on his neck and chest. He doesn’t say anything back. , nervously smiling as he focuses on his shirt. “Anyway, I have some presents with me as well,” He looks up again with a smile, taking a seat next to you. You first hand him a flat, squared present, making him look up curiously. “Did you talk to Cal about this?” He asks, glancing over to the record player that was still in its box in the corner of his room. You shrug, not wanting to give away anything. He carefully unwraps it and takes out the vinyl cover. “Oh wow,” he says, looking at the cover on the front, a photo you took of him and his friends last Halloween. He smiles, looking up at you, before he goes back to inspecting the cover and turning it around. He looks up at a soft smile of the picture of you looking at him, love evident in your eyes, and him looking down laughing. “Wow, that’s amazing. Is there an album in it?” He asks, looking at the pictures again. “So, Callum did mention to me how they were getting you a record player, yes. It’s, err, actually been custom pressed, it says the songs on the cover as well,” His eyes widen. “Oh wow, that’s incredible. Holiday pub golf version oh I love that,” looking on the A side, which had the picture with his friends. He turns it around, reading the B-Side, “Tiny Dancer, Elton John, oh that’s the one that played when we went on our first date, isn’t it?” You nod, and smile at the memory. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure if you’d remember that. Side A is like, Sidemen related songs, and like, Wild Ones and then the other one is like… Songs that remind me of you, and us,” she explains. “Ooh, Wild Ones, that’s a gem. Wow, thank you, this is really cool,” he embraces you, setting the Vinyl down on his bed for a second to embrace you. “Thank you, that’s wonderful,” he whispers, pulling back to give you a kiss. You smile, and kiss him back, the same butterflies exploding as the many times before. “Harry, we have to get to the restaurant,” You remind him when you take a second to catch your breath. “Yeah, yeah.”

The group arrives at the restaurant around seven, walking there from Harry’s place. You and Harry go in first to inform the staff of the reservation, whilst the group waits outside and chats. Because it was a slightly bigger group of about 15 people that were all relatively well known, he’d rented the small upper floor that was a small extension of the restaurant that would normally fit about twenty people. You go outside to get the rest of the group and enter the cosy room, that has a classy Italian aesthetic. They’d put the tables together, so everyone could fit around, and you take place next to Harry and Callux, Ethan sitting on the other side of Harry and Chip and Callum sitting across from you. You grab his hand under the table as everyone orders their drinks, shuffling a bit closer. When everyone has ordered, the boys decide it’s time for presents, before people get too drunk or too engaged in conversations. The boys make their rounds, at least the ones that didn’t give him anything already, before it gets back to you. Harry looks at you, not expecting you to have anything from him, as you get a small box shaped wrapped present out of your bag. “Y/N, you already got me something,” He lowly says, “No, it’s just something small, please just open it,” you ask, giggling at the thought of the present. Harry reluctantly takes it, tearing off the wrapping paper. He looks at the box, opening it to reveal six golf balls. “Wait, are these…” He looks at you with a laugh on his face, and you nod. “Oh my god, that’s amazing,” he lets out a genuine laugh, taking out one of the golf balls to look at it closely. Ethan looks over, also laughing at the images on the balls. A few of the guys look confuse, so you look at them to explain it, “They’re golf balls with pictures of me on them,” you tell them, and everyone laughs, wanting to see them. When Harry has the box in front of him, now empty as the balls are being passed around, he turns towards you. “Thank you, baby, I love that,” he says, leaning a bit closer. This was kind of dangerous, knowing his friends all surrounded you, but you didn’t really care. They’d know at some point anyway. “It’s just a silly thing, but I’m glad you like it,” you say, looking into his eyes you can see his smile in. He leans closer until your lips are touching, whispering another thank you before he gives you one last peck, moving back. He moves his arm onto the back of your chair, lightly grazing your shoulder, as you see Josh looking at you with raised eyebrows. Tobi clears his throat, “Anything you want to tell us, guys?” Harry’s eyes widen at the realization of what he’s just done, and you give him a reassuring smile. “Oh. Well, we’re, like, together. Please no big deal though, we’re just, you know,” Harry rambles, and you smile, taking his hand under his table. He briefly looks at you, and relaxes when he realizes you’re okay. “Ayy they both finally did it, everyone give it up for Harry and Y/N!” Chip exclaims as everyone cheers, and you hide on Harry’s shoulder as you chuckle in embarrassment. You sit up again and see Callux give you a small smile, leaning closer to you. “I’m glad you have each other, he has been happier because of you. And you seem more yourself, too. I’m glad,” he shared, making you smile. “Thank you, genuinely. And also for not really asking, took us a while to figure out what we wanted,” she admits, and he nods, “Of course. Oh, is it time for the thing yet?” He changes the topic, and you look back at Harry laughing with Ethan, Simon, and Callum. “Oh, yeah, can you ask Theo? He has the present,” Callux nods as you turn back to Harry, nudging him. “There’s one more present,” You say, interrupting the conversation. The boys all look at you, understanding the signal to shut up, and Harry frowns, trying to work out whom he missed.

Theo speaks up, “Okay, so, this is from all of us, really,” he tells him, looking around the group. “I do think I speak for all of us when I say you mostly have Y/N to thank, though, because she did a wonderful job working it out, but it’s a bit of a group effort, from us, to you,” He explains, handing over a square, somewhat thick, package. Harry looks around the group curiously as everyone expectantly watches him unpack it. “Harry through our eyes, a reminder of our love for you,” he reads curiously, opening the book. He opens it to a written page surrounded by group pictures of him and his friends and family. ‘Harry,’ it reads, ‘You’ve done so much for all of us, we wanted to give you something back. You mean so much to every single one of us individually, and you deserve to know. This is who you are through our eyes, hopefully you see the same magic we do in you.’ He looks up around the group, before he flips to the next page filled with crazy pictures of him. He lets out a chuckle, turning the page to see a combination of written texts and pictures. “You can read it all later, but it’s basically all of us and some more people sharing what they think about you. Stories, pictures, memories. Your parents and siblings are in it as well. Just, for whenever you need it,” you explain, as he flicks through the book. “Wow. Thank you guys, wow, that is so, umm, my god. Thank you,” he says, truly meaning it. You smile, resting your hand on his thigh. You make relaxing motions, Harry clearly a bit overwhelmed with his emotions, as he briefly looks through. “Oh wow, these are old,” he chuckles, looking at a picture Chris had taken of him the first time they’d met. He looks around the group once more. “Thank you guys, thank you,” He expresses once more, and everyone reacts with a smile, “Of course,” or some other form of reaction. Harry kisses your cheek as a thank you as he turns to you once more. “Thank you, it’s wonderful.” You smile, looking into his eyes. “You deserve to know how loved you are.”

#wroetoshaw #harry lewis #w2s #w2s x reader #w2s fic #w2s imagine #harry w2s #sidemen #sidemen x reader #harry lewis x reader

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fioredeciliego · 2 months ago

Text

Lost in the Light - Giselle x Fem!Reader

12.6K words

The carnival entrance was alive with a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Strings of twinkling lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a golden glow on the crowds below. Somewhere to the left, a man was calling out for people to try their luck at a ring toss, while the smell of fresh funnel cakes wafted from a nearby food stall. Y/N stood near the ticket booth, craning her neck in a futile attempt to spot her friends among the throng of laughing families and couples.

She sighed, clutching her phone as another unanswered text lit up the screen. Where are you guys? she typed again, glancing around in frustration. The noise, the lights—it was all starting to feel overwhelming.

Just as she turned to step away, someone bumped into her hard from the side. The collision sent Y/N stumbling a bit, and before she could process what was happening, she felt something light and fluffy cascade down her arm.

“Oh no! My popcorn!”

Y/N blinked, looking down to see buttery kernels scattered across the pavement and clinging to her jacket. She looked up, her annoyance quickly dissolving as she met the sheepish gaze of the person responsible.

“I am so sorry,” the girl stammered, brushing her short, raven-black hair out of her face. She wore an oversized beige jacket over a simple black top, and the mortified look in her doe-like eyes was enough to make Y/N’s irritation melt away.

“It’s fine,” Y/N said, brushing some popcorn off her sleeve. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” the girl replied, giving an apologetic smile. “But my popcorn, clearly, is not.” She glanced at the mess on the ground with exaggerated despair. “It didn’t deserve to go out like this.”

Y/N let out a laugh, surprising herself. “Tragic, really. It had so much more life to live.”

“Exactly!” The girl grinned, holding up the now-empty popcorn box. “Guess I’ll have to grab another, though at this rate, I might as well wear it instead.”

The humor in her voice was infectious, and Y/N found herself relaxing despite the chaos around them. “Here, let me help you clean up,” she offered, but the girl waved her off.

“It’s okay. No point crying over spilled popcorn, right?” She tilted her head, her expression turning curious. “Are you waiting for someone?”

Y/N sighed, glancing at her phone again. “Yeah, my friends. But I think I’ve officially lost them.”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “No way, same here. I was supposed to meet up with my group, but I kind of got distracted by... everything.” She gestured vaguely at the carnival behind her, a slight pout forming on her lips.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at her animated frustration. “It’s easy to get lost in all this. It’s like sensory overload.”

“Right? I mean, who puts the popcorn stand next to the bumper cars? Recipe for disaster.”

They both laughed, the awkwardness of their initial collision fading.

“I’m Aeri, by the way,” the girl said, holding out a hand.

“Y/N,” Y/N replied, shaking it. Aeri’s grip was warm and firm, and for a moment, Y/N felt a strange but pleasant flutter in her chest.

“So,” Aeri began, letting go of Y/N’s hand. “Since we’re both stranded in this neon wilderness, how about we help each other out? Two lost people are better than one, right?”

Y/N hesitated. “You want to team up?”

“Why not?” Aeri shrugged, her eyes glinting mischievously. “Unless you have a better plan?”

Y/N thought about it for a moment. She had no idea where her friends were, and navigating the carnival alone sounded like a nightmare. Besides, there was something oddly comforting about Aeri’s presence, even though they’d just met.

“Alright,” Y/N said, slipping her phone into her pocket. “But if we end up more lost than we already are, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair,” Aeri replied with a playful smirk. “Now, let’s find our people—and maybe some replacement popcorn while we’re at it.”

They started walking together, weaving through the bustling crowds. Aeri took the lead, her head turning this way and that as if she were a detective on a mission. Y/N followed closely, trying not to lose sight of her in the sea of faces.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the silence. “What’s your group like?”

“Oh, they’re great,” Aeri replied, her tone light. “Chaotic, but great. We came here for the rides, but knowing them, they’re probably stuck at the game booths trying to win some ridiculous prize.”

“Classic carnival behavior,” Y/N said, nodding. “What about you? Are you a rides person or more into the food and games?”

“Hmm.” Aeri tilted her head thoughtfully. “Rides are fun, but there’s something about carnival food that just hits differently, you know? Like, when else do you get an excuse to eat fried Oreos and pretend it’s normal?”

Y/N laughed. “True. I’m more of a rides person, though. Love the adrenaline.”

Aeri grinned. “Noted. We’ll have to hit the Ferris wheel later.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “A Ferris wheel isn’t exactly an adrenaline rush.”

“It is if you’re afraid of heights,” Aeri quipped, her smirk widening.

Their banter continued as they wandered through the carnival, stopping occasionally to look around for any familiar faces. They didn’t find their friends, but Y/N found herself enjoying the conversation more than she expected.

“So,” Aeri said after a while, “what’s your story? How’d you end up here?”

“My friends thought it would be fun,” Y/N replied. “And it is, I guess. Just didn’t expect to get separated.”

Aeri nodded. “Same here. Honestly, though, I’m kind of glad I got lost. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have run into you.”

The comment caught Y/N off guard, and she felt her cheeks heat up slightly. “You mean you wouldn’t have spilled popcorn all over me?”

“Exactly,” Aeri said with a grin. “Clearly, fate wanted us to meet.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile. Something told her this night was going to be a lot more memorable than she’d anticipated.

The carnival stretched out before them, a maze of glowing attractions and excited laughter. They’d meandered toward the rides, the colorful glow of a Ferris wheel dominating the skyline. Aeri slowed as they approached the ticket booth, reaching for her wallet with casual confidence.

“Alright,” Aeri declared, flipping open her wallet with a flourish. “Let’s grab some tickets and hit the rides.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Let’s? Who said I agreed to rides?”

“Oh, please,” Aeri said, shooting her a playful look. “You just admitted you’re a rides person. No way you’re backing out now.”

“Fine,” Y/N conceded, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “But we’re splitting the cost.”

“Absolutely not.” Aeri stepped forward, handing a crisp bill to the ticket attendant before Y/N could protest.

“Wait—” Y/N stammered, reaching for her own wallet. “I said we’re splitting!”

Aeri waved her off, a cheeky grin tugging at her lips. “Consider it my apology for the popcorn incident.”

The attendant handed over a stack of tickets, which Aeri took with a triumphant air. She turned to Y/N, holding the tickets just out of reach. “See? Problem solved.”

Y/N crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t need an apology. Besides, you’re not the only one who can pay, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Aeri teased, stepping closer and dangling the tickets like a prize. “But I’m not letting you. What kind of person would I be if I let the victim of my popcorn tragedy pay for her own fun?”

Y/N sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told that before,” Aeri said with a wink, tucking the tickets into her jacket.

Y/N watched her for a moment, half tempted to argue further. But there was something disarming about Aeri’s playful confidence, the way she so effortlessly took charge. It was... oddly endearing.

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, looking away to hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “But next time, I’m paying.”

“Deal,” Aeri replied, extending a hand as if to shake on it.

Y/N hesitated, then took her hand. The moment their palms met, Aeri gave a mock-serious nod. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N said, pulling her hand back, though she couldn’t suppress a small smile.

They turned toward the rides, the tickets now burning a metaphorical hole in Aeri’s pocket.

“So,” Aeri began, surveying the attractions. “What’s first? Roller coaster? Haunted house? Or are we starting slow with the merry-go-round?”

Y/N snorted. “Merry-go-round? What are we, five?”

“Hey, merry-go-rounds can be fun,” Aeri said, feigning offense. “But fine. What’s your pick, adrenaline junkie?”

Y/N scanned the area, her eyes landing on a spinning ride that looked borderline terrifying. “How about that one?”

Aeri followed her gaze and let out a low whistle. “Bold choice. I like it.”

As they made their way to the ride, Aeri glanced at Y/N out of the corner of her eye. “You know,” she said casually, “this whole stubborn thing you’ve got going on is kind of cute.”

Y/N nearly tripped over her own feet. “What?”

“You heard me,” Aeri said, her smirk growing.

“I—I’m not stubborn,” Y/N protested, though her face was rapidly heating up.

“Sure you’re not,” Aeri said, clearly enjoying herself.

Before Y/N could come up with a retort, they reached the line for the ride. Aeri handed over two tickets with a flourish, and the attendant waved them through.

“After you,” Aeri said, motioning for Y/N to go first.

Y/N huffed but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks... I guess.”

As they climbed into the ride and secured the harnesses, Y/N shot Aeri a sidelong glance. “You know, you’re awfully cocky for someone who’s scared of Ferris wheels.”

Aeri gasped in mock indignation. “Excuse me, I am not scared of Ferris wheels. I merely have a healthy respect for heights.”

“Right,” Y/N said, smirking. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The ride operator called out instructions, and soon they were off, the world spinning in a blur of lights and laughter.

Aeri’s earlier teasing faded as she threw her hands up and let out a genuine laugh, her carefree energy infectious. Y/N found herself laughing too, all thoughts of their earlier bickering forgotten.

As the ride slowed to a stop, Aeri turned to Y/N, her cheeks flushed from the excitement. “Alright, I admit it,” she said breathlessly. “You have good taste in rides.”

“Glad you approve,” Y/N said, grinning.

They climbed out and started toward the next attraction, the playful banter picking up right where it left off.

The funhouse stood at the edge of the carnival, its colorful neon sign flickering like a siren’s call. Laughter echoed from within, mingling with carnival music and the distant hum of rides.

“A funhouse?” Y/N asked skeptically, eyeing the swirling patterns painted on the facade.

“What? Scared of a few mirrors?” Aeri teased, nudging her playfully.

“Not scared,” Y/N shot back, crossing her arms. “Just seems a little... pointless.”

“Pointless?” Aeri gasped in mock offense. “The funhouse is a carnival classic. Besides,” she added with a smirk, “it’s perfect for someone like you. Maybe you’ll finally find your way out of being directionally challenged.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “Fine. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

They stepped inside, the air immediately cooler and filled with the distorted echoes of giggles and shuffling feet. The maze of mirrors loomed ahead, stretching in every direction.

“Alright, navigator,” Y/N said, gesturing grandly. “Lead the way.”

“Gladly,” Aeri replied, striding forward confidently—only to smack straight into a mirror.

The dull thud was followed by a beat of silence, then Y/N’s laughter erupted.

“Oh, you’re definitely qualified to make fun of my sense of direction,” Y/N teased, clutching her sides.

Aeri rubbed her forehead, trying to maintain her dignity. “That was just a warm-up. Watch and learn.”

They ventured deeper into the maze, the mirrored walls playing tricks on their perception. Every turn seemed to lead to a distorted version of themselves, their reflections stretching, shrinking, or multiplying in ways that were equal parts amusing and unsettling.

At one point, Aeri stopped in front of a mirror that made her appear comically tall and thin. “What do you think?” she asked, striking an exaggerated pose. “Supermodel material, right?”

Y/N snorted. “If supermodels were designed by Picasso, sure.”

“Hey, don’t hate on the future of fashion,” Aeri said, feigning a pout before breaking into a laugh.

They continued to navigate the maze, the laughter flowing easily between them. But as they rounded another corner, Y/N suddenly realized Aeri was no longer beside her.

“Aeri?” she called out, her voice echoing eerily in the confined space.

“Over here!” Aeri’s voice replied, though it was hard to pinpoint where it was coming from.

Y/N turned in circles, each mirror reflecting a different version of herself. Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out which path to take.

“Wow,” Aeri’s voice called again, this time closer. “You really are bad at this.”

“Keep talking,” Y/N retorted, squinting at her surroundings. “I’ll find you eventually.”

“Or maybe I’ll find you first,” Aeri quipped, her tone teasing.

Y/N groaned, taking another hesitant step forward. “This is ridiculous. How is it this hard to find one person?”

“Maybe I’m just good at hiding,” Aeri said, suddenly stepping out from behind a mirrored corner right in front of Y/N.

Y/N jumped, letting out an involuntary yelp. “Geez, warn me next time!”

Aeri grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “What, no thanks for rescuing you from your maze-induced despair?”

“Rescuing me?” Y/N repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who got us separated in the first place.”

“Details, details,” Aeri said, waving a hand dismissively.

Y/N shook her head but couldn’t suppress her smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet,” Aeri said, leaning slightly closer, “you keep hanging around.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, the sudden shift in Aeri’s tone catching her off guard. But before she could respond, Aeri stepped back with a wink.

“Come on,” Aeri said, gesturing toward the exit sign visible in the distance. “Let’s get out of here before you start leaving breadcrumbs to find your way back.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, following her toward the exit. “You’re lucky I have a sense of humor.”

As they emerged from the funhouse, the cool night air hit them, the carnival’s vibrant energy washing over them once again.

“So,” Aeri said, turning to Y/N with a mischievous grin. “What’s next? Haunted house? Ferris wheel? Or do you need a break to recover from your navigation failure?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll take on whatever you’ve got, Picasso Supermodel.”

The warm glow of carnival lights painted everything in soft hues of pink and gold as Y/N and Aeri wandered toward the food stalls. The air was thick with the scent of sugar, fried dough, and buttery popcorn.

Aeri’s eyes lit up as she spotted the cotton candy stand, the machine spinning delicate clouds of pink and blue. “Oh, we’re stopping here. No arguments.”

Y/N chuckled. “Not arguing. Cotton candy’s basically a carnival necessity.”

They approached the stall, where the vendor—a cheerful older man in a striped shirt—greeted them with a wide smile. “What’ll it be? Pink, blue, or a mix?”

“Pink,” Aeri said decisively.

“Mix,” Y/N countered at the same time.

Aeri gave her a playful glare. “Pink is the classic choice. Don’t mess with perfection.”

“Blue’s just as good, and a mix is the best of both worlds,” Y/N argued, crossing her arms.

The vendor laughed, holding up his hands. “How about I make you the biggest one I’ve got, with both colors? Settles the debate, no?”

“Fine,” Aeri said with mock reluctance. “But only because I’m feeling generous.”

Y/N smirked. “Sure, let’s call it that.”

The vendor spun the cotton candy into an enormous, fluffy confection that looked almost too big to eat. Almost. Aeri handed over the cash, waving off Y/N’s attempt to contribute.

“Still trying to pay for everything, huh?” Y/N teased as they walked away from the stall.

“Of course,” Aeri said breezily, tearing off a piece of the cotton candy. “It’s part of my charm.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “If you say so.”

They found a quiet spot near a row of game booths, the noise of the carnival slightly muffled by the distance. Sitting on a low wooden fence, they passed the cotton candy back and forth, each taking turns tearing off pieces of the sugary treat.

“This stuff tastes exactly like I remember from when I was a kid,” Y/N said, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

“Did you come to carnivals a lot?” Aeri asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Not a lot,” Y/N admitted. “But whenever I did, I always made a beeline for the cotton candy. It felt like eating a cloud.”

Aeri grinned. “My friends and I used to dare each other to see who could eat the biggest piece without getting sticky fingers. Spoiler: None of us ever won.”

Y/N laughed, imagining a younger Aeri in the midst of a sugary, sticky competition. “I would’ve been the same. Carnivals were the one place I could let loose. Everything felt so magical, you know?”

Aeri nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Yeah. Like nothing bad could happen when you were surrounded by all these lights and happy faces.”

For a moment, they both fell quiet, lost in their own thoughts. The hum of the carnival filled the silence, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or the ringing of a game booth bell.

“Okay,” Aeri said suddenly, breaking the moment. “Important question: What’s your strategy for eating cotton candy?”

Y/N blinked at her. “Strategy?”

“Yes, strategy,” Aeri insisted, holding up the cotton candy like it was a priceless artifact. “Do you eat it in big bites or little pieces?”

“Little pieces, obviously,” Y/N said, demonstrating by plucking a small tuft of pink. “It’s about savoring the experience.”

“Wrong,” Aeri declared, leaning in dramatically. “The correct answer is big bites. Maximum flavor, minimal effort.”

Y/N gasped, feigning offense. “That’s barbaric! Cotton candy deserves respect.”

Aeri laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s literally just sugar. I think it can handle a little barbarism.”

Shaking her head, Y/N grabbed the cotton candy and took an exaggeratedly dainty bite. “See? This is the proper way to—”

Before she could finish, Aeri lunged forward and took an enormous bite directly from the side of the cotton candy, her grin mischievous and unapologetic.

“Hey!” Y/N protested, holding the now-lopsided treat out of reach.

Aeri just laughed, a strand of cotton candy stuck to the corner of her mouth. “What? I’m demonstrating my superior strategy.”

Y/N sighed in mock exasperation but couldn’t help laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Aeri said, echoing their earlier funhouse exchange, “you’re still hanging around.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up but quickly distracted herself by tearing off another piece of cotton candy. “Whatever. Just don’t eat it all before I get my share.”

They continued eating, the conversation drifting to their favorite carnival rides and games, childhood memories, and a few stories that had them both doubled over in laughter.

By the time the cotton candy was gone, their fingers sticky and their faces aching from smiling, Y/N felt a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the sugar rush.

“You know,” Aeri said as they stood to leave, “for someone who’s allegedly lost, you’re not bad company.”

“Right back at you,” Y/N replied, bumping Aeri’s shoulder lightly.

The Ferris wheel stood tall at the center of the carnival, its colorful lights blinking rhythmically against the night sky. It was a beacon of nostalgia, the kind of ride that people couldn’t resist no matter how many times they’d been on one before.

“We have to do it,” Aeri said, her eyes shining as she pointed to the ride.

Y/N hesitated. “Really? Isn’t it kind of... slow?”

“That’s the point,” Aeri replied, tugging on Y/N’s arm. “It’s a classic. Plus, the view at the top is unbeatable.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Aeri was already pulling her toward the line. It wasn’t long before they were climbing into one of the swinging gondolas, the carnival noise fading slightly as the ride operator secured the door.

As the wheel began its gentle ascent, Y/N found herself glancing nervously at the open sides of the gondola. “So, fun fact: I’m not the biggest fan of heights.”

Aeri smirked. “You’re afraid of heights, but you came to a carnival?”

“I didn’t plan to end up on a Ferris wheel,” Y/N retorted, gripping the edge of the seat.

“Relax,” Aeri said, her voice softer now. She placed a hand on Y/N’s arm. “It’s just a slow ride with a nice view. You’ll love it.”

The gondola swayed slightly as they reached the first stop, and Y/N sucked in a breath. Aeri chuckled but didn’t tease further, instead pointing out over the edge.

“Look,” she said. “You can see the whole carnival from here.”

Y/N followed her gaze. The scene below was breathtaking: a sea of colorful lights and bustling activity, the cheerful melodies of carnival music floating up to meet them. It was beautiful, almost surreal, and Y/N felt her tension ease slightly.

“Okay,” Y/N admitted. “It’s... pretty nice.”

“Told you,” Aeri said with a grin.

The ride continued its slow climb, the stops at each gondola giving them more time to take in the view. As they neared the top, the noise of the carnival grew faint, leaving them in a bubble of quiet punctuated by the creak of the Ferris wheel.

“Do you come to carnivals a lot?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence.

“Not as often as I’d like,” Aeri admitted, leaning back against the seat. “But when I do, I always end up on the Ferris wheel. There’s just something about it... I don’t know. It feels timeless.”

“Timeless?”

Aeri nodded, her gaze distant as she looked out over the carnival. “Yeah. Like, when you’re here, everything else disappears. The deadlines, the expectations, the chaos of real life—it all just... fades. It’s like stepping into a memory.”

Y/N watched her, the soft glow of the carnival lights reflecting in Aeri’s eyes. It was rare to see someone so unguarded, so honest.

“That’s... really beautiful,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aeri turned to her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, feeling her cheeks warm. “I never thought of it that way before, but you’re right. It does feel like that.”

The gondola reached the very top of the wheel and paused, leaving them suspended high above the carnival. The view was stunning, the world below a patchwork of lights and movement.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence comfortable as they took in the scene.

“I think that’s why I like coming here,” Aeri said finally. “Because it’s a chance to just... be. No distractions, no expectations. Just the moment.”

Y/N nodded, her hands relaxing on the edge of the seat. “I get that. It’s hard to find that kind of peace sometimes.”

Aeri glanced at her, her expression softening. “Yeah. But tonight’s been nice. Meeting you, wandering around like this... it’s been a good escape.”

Y/N felt her heart skip at the sincerity in Aeri’s voice. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she settled for a small, grateful smile. “Same here.”

The gondola began its slow descent, the lights growing brighter as they neared the ground. Aeri leaned back, her playful demeanor returning as she said, “See? Survived the heights. Told you it wasn’t so bad.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Fine. You were right. But I’m not admitting it again.”

Aeri laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made Y/N’s chest feel lighter.

As the Ferris wheel came to a stop and they climbed out of the gondola, Y/N found herself wishing the ride had lasted a little longer. There was something about being up there, away from everything, that had felt... special.

“So,” Aeri said as they stepped back into the bustling carnival. “What’s next on the agenda, partner?”

Y/N glanced at her, a newfound sense of ease settling between them. “I guess we’ll just have to see where the night takes us.”

The carnival's game booths were alive with energy, shouts of excitement and groans of defeat blending into a symphony of playful chaos. Brightly colored signs promised impossible prizes—giant teddy bears, oversized giraffes, and a unicorn with glittering wings.

“Alright, we’re doing this,” Aeri declared, marching toward a booth with plastic rings and glass bottles.

Y/N followed, amused. “Do you even know how to play?”

“How hard can it be?” Aeri shot back, flashing a confident grin.

The booth attendant, a wiry man with a mischievous smile, handed Aeri a set of brightly colored rings. “The trick is all in the wrist,” he said, clearly enjoying the challenge in her determined expression.

Aeri squared her shoulders, her tongue peeking out in concentration as she aimed for the neck of a bottle. She tossed the first ring with dramatic flair, only to watch it bounce off the edge and clatter onto the counter.

“First try. Warm-up,” Aeri said quickly, brushing off the miss.

Y/N crossed her arms, suppressing a laugh. “Sure. Go ahead, pro.”

Aeri tossed the next ring, and then the next, each one missing spectacularly. One even managed to ricochet off a bottle and hit the booth attendant, who dodged with practiced ease.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. “Wow. You’re really bad at this.”

“I’m just building suspense,” Aeri replied, grabbing the last ring. “This is the one.”

She focused, her expression so serious that Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing again. Aeri let the ring fly, and it wobbled through the air in slow motion before landing... nowhere near the bottles.

Aeri threw her hands up. “Rigged. Absolutely rigged.”

The booth attendant chuckled. “Want to try again?”

“Not a chance,” Aeri grumbled, stepping aside.

Y/N nudged her. “Move over, rookie. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Aeri raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you think you’re better?”

“Watch and learn,” Y/N said confidently, grabbing a new set of rings.

Her first toss landed perfectly around a bottle neck. The booth attendant clapped, and Y/N grinned, glancing at Aeri. “That’s how you do it.”

“Beginner’s luck,” Aeri muttered, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes.

Y/N landed another ring, and then another, each one precise and effortless. By the end of her turn, she had scored enough points for the grand prize.

“Alright, pick your prize,” the booth attendant said, gesturing to the wall of stuffed animals.

Y/N scanned the options, her eyes landing on a pastel pink bunny with floppy ears. She pointed at it, and the attendant handed it over with a smile.

Y/N turned to Aeri, holding out the bunny. “Here. A consolation prize for your, uh, impressive effort.”

Aeri stared at the bunny, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. “You’re giving me the prize you won? How generous.”

“I thought you could use the comfort after that embarrassing performance,” Y/N teased, her tone light.

Aeri accepted the bunny with exaggerated seriousness, cradling it like a treasured possession. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll cherish it forever as a reminder of my crushing defeat.”

They both burst out laughing, the playful banter easing into a comfortable rhythm.

“Alright, hotshot,” Aeri said as they wandered away from the booth, the bunny tucked under her arm. “What’s your secret? Are you some kind of carnival game prodigy?”

Y/N shrugged. “What can I say? I have skills.”

Aeri rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Next game is mine. No way I’m letting you show me up again.”

“Oh, it’s on,” Y/N replied, her competitive streak flaring.

They spent the next hour hopping from booth to booth, challenging each other to every game they could find. Aeri’s luck didn’t improve much, but her commentary made each attempt funnier than the last.

“Did you see that? That dart was rigged,” she declared after missing a balloon for the fourth time.

“Sure it was,” Y/N teased, effortlessly popping three balloons in a row.

By the end of the night, Y/N was the undisputed champion, her arms full of small prizes—keychains, tiny plushies, and a random rubber duck she insisted was a must-have.

As they walked away from the booths, Aeri glanced at Y/N, her smile softening. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“At carnival games? It’s hardly a life skill,” Y/N joked.

“No, I mean... you’re fun to be around,” Aeri said, her tone sincere. “Even when you’re destroying my ego.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, the playful banter giving way to a moment of quiet connection. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, loser.”

Aeri chuckled, bumping Y/N’s shoulder lightly. “Just wait. I’ll win the next one.”

“Keep dreaming,” Y/N shot back, her heart feeling lighter than it had all night.

They continued through the carnival, the bunny and rubber duck swinging in their hands, the lights around them glowing brighter than ever.

The flashing lights of the carnival reflected off the surface of a meandering water ride, its log-shaped boats bobbing along a winding track. The distant sound of cheerful screams from the steep drop was enough to make Y/N hesitate as they approached.

“You seriously want to do this?” Y/N asked, eyeing the ride.

Aeri, already marching toward the line, turned back with a mischievous grin. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little splash?”

“It’s not the splash I’m worried about,” Y/N muttered, following reluctantly.

The line moved quickly, and soon they were climbing into a log-shaped boat. Y/N settled into the front seat, the slightly damp bench hinting at what was to come. Aeri slid in behind her, her knees bumping into Y/N’s back as she adjusted.

“Ready?” Aeri asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

“Not really,” Y/N replied, gripping the sides of the boat as it jolted forward.

The ride started slowly, the boat gliding along a gentle current. Colorful lights from nearby attractions danced on the water, and for a moment, it was almost serene.

“This isn’t so bad,” Y/N admitted, relaxing slightly.

Aeri leaned forward, resting her chin on Y/N’s shoulder. “Don’t get too comfortable. The big drop is coming.”

Y/N turned her head, their faces suddenly close. Aeri’s teasing smile was inches away, and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. Before she could say anything, the boat rounded a corner, revealing the towering incline ahead.

“Oh no,” Y/N whispered, her grip tightening on the boat.

The chain lift clanked loudly as the boat began its ascent, the anticipation building with each jarring lurch upward. Aeri leaned back, clearly enjoying the suspense.

“Still not scared?” Aeri teased.

Y/N glared over her shoulder. “I’m regretting my life choices, if that counts.”

As the boat reached the peak, they had a split second to take in the view—the carnival lights sprawling out below them, the laughter and music blending into a chaotic melody. Then, with a sudden lurch, the boat tipped forward.

Y/N screamed as they plummeted down the drop, the cold spray of water hitting them head-on. Aeri’s laughter echoed behind her, mingling with Y/N’s startled shrieks.

When the boat leveled out, Y/N wiped her face, sputtering. “Oh my God, I’m soaked!”

Aeri, equally drenched, burst into uncontrollable laughter. “You should see your face right now!”

Y/N turned to glare at her but couldn’t hold back her own laughter as she saw Aeri’s hair plastered to her forehead, water dripping from her nose. “You don’t look much better!”

As the boat drifted into the next section of the ride, a smaller splash doused them again. Y/N groaned. “This was a terrible idea.”

“No way,” Aeri said, still laughing. “This is the best idea we’ve had all night.”

The ride continued with more twists and turns, each one sending small waves of water splashing over them. By the time they reached the end, both of them were completely soaked, their clothes clinging uncomfortably to their skin.

They stumbled off the ride, dripping water onto the pavement. Aeri shook her head, sending droplets flying everywhere.

“Hey!” Y/N protested, shielding her face. “You’re making it worse!”

Aeri grinned, unrepentant. “You’re already wet. What’s a little more water?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, wringing out the hem of her shirt. “We should’ve brought a change of clothes.”

“Noted for next time,” Aeri said, her tone casual but her words laced with suggestion.

Y/N’s heart skipped at the implication. She ducked her head, trying to hide her growing smile. “Let’s just find something dry to sit on before I catch hypothermia.”

They wandered toward a nearby bench, the cold night air making them shiver. Aeri plopped down first, pulling her jacket around her shoulders despite it being just as wet as the rest of her.

Y/N hesitated, eyeing the bench. “This is going to make it worse.”

“Suit yourself,” Aeri said, patting the spot beside her. “But if you stand there any longer, you’ll look even more ridiculous.”

With a sigh, Y/N sat down, immediately regretting it as the damp fabric of her jeans pressed against the cold wood.

“See?” Aeri teased. “Not so bad.”

“Speak for yourself,” Y/N grumbled, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up as Aeri pulled out her phone and tried to check her reflection in the screen.

“Do I still look cute, or has this ride ruined my reputation?” Aeri asked dramatically.

Y/N snorted. “You look like a drowned rat.”

“Harsh,” Aeri said, clutching her chest in mock offense. “But fair.”

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of the carnival filling the air around them. Despite the cold and the damp clothes, Y/N felt an unexpected warmth, a sense of ease that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Thanks for convincing me to go on that ride,” Y/N said softly.

Aeri looked over, her expression softening. “It was worth it, wasn’t it?”

Y/N met her gaze, the glow of the carnival lights reflecting in Aeri’s eyes. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. It was.”

The moment lingered, the noise of the carnival fading into the background. Then Aeri’s stomach growled loudly, breaking the spell.

“Alright,” Aeri said, standing up and stretching. “Let’s find some hot chocolate before we freeze to death.”

Y/N laughed, standing to follow her. “Good idea. And maybe a towel, if we’re lucky.”

As they walked away from the ride, their wet shoes squelching with every step, Y/N couldn’t help but think that, for all the chaos, this was turning into one of the best nights she’d ever had.

The main path of the carnival was a cacophony of colors and sounds, bustling with people moving in every direction. Strings of glowing bulbs crisscrossed overhead, bathing the scene in warm, vibrant light. Laughter and music blended with the occasional excited shrieks from the rides, creating a symphony of joyful chaos.

Y/N tugged at the sleeve of her damp jacket, glancing around in mild frustration. “Okay, we came from that direction, right?” She pointed vaguely toward a food stall selling oversized turkey legs.

Aeri tilted her head, her dark hair still damp from the log flume, and squinted at the path ahead. “Nope. That’s where we went to get cotton candy. You’re officially terrible at this.”

Y/N groaned, throwing her hands up. “Why are carnivals so confusing? It’s like a maze with too many distractions!”

Aeri smirked, shoving her hands into the pockets of her slightly wrinkled bomber jacket. “Maybe the distractions aren’t so bad.”

Y/N turned to her, narrowing her eyes. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Aeri’s grin was unapologetic.

The crowd surged around them, groups of friends and families moving toward various attractions, the air thick with the scent of fried food and sugary treats. Y/N tried to focus on finding their way back to the Ferris wheel, where they’d last seen Aeri’s friends, but the sheer volume of people made it impossible to orient herself.

“This is hopeless,” Y/N muttered, coming to a stop near a balloon vendor. “We’ll never find anyone in this crowd.”

“Hopeless?” Aeri leaned against a nearby lamppost, her posture relaxed. “We’ve been lost together all night, and you’re only just realizing that now?”

Y/N shot her a playful glare. “I was holding onto some optimism. Sue me.”

Aeri chuckled and pushed off the lamppost, coming to stand beside Y/N. “Look, worst-case scenario, we wander around until everything closes. Could be worse.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “How is that not a worst-case scenario?”

Aeri gave her a pointed look. “Because we’re lost together. And honestly? I don’t mind that so much.”

The words, delivered with casual sincerity, caught Y/N off guard. She felt a warmth rise to her cheeks, and she quickly turned away, pretending to scan the crowd. “You’re too smooth for your own good, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Aeri shrugged, the corners of her mouth tugging upward. “Now, do we keep wandering aimlessly, or do we make the best of it?”

Y/N sighed, a smile tugging at her own lips despite her best efforts to seem exasperated. “Fine. Let’s make the best of it. But you’re not allowed to mock my terrible sense of direction anymore.”

“No promises,” Aeri teased, nudging Y/N’s shoulder with her own.

They continued walking, weaving through the throngs of people. Aeri led the way this time, though she didn’t seem any more certain of their route than Y/N. Still, there was something oddly comforting about following her, as if Aeri’s confidence made the chaos of the carnival feel less overwhelming.

Every so often, Aeri would point out something interesting—a kid excitedly clutching an enormous stuffed bear, a couple attempting to share an oversized pretzel, or a particularly elaborate face painting stand. Y/N found herself laughing more often than not, the stress of being lost fading into the background.

At one point, they stopped at a small fountain tucked away from the main path. The water glimmered under the carnival lights, and the surrounding benches offered a brief respite from the bustling crowd.

“This is nice,” Y/N admitted, sitting down and stretching her legs.

Aeri sat beside her, leaning back on her hands. “See? Getting lost has its perks.”

Y/N glanced over at her, unable to hide a smile. “You’re really leaning into this whole ‘making the best of it’ thing, huh?”

“It’s kind of my thing,” Aeri said with a wink.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the hum of the carnival serving as their backdrop. Y/N found herself stealing glances at Aeri, taking in the way her eyes sparkled under the lights, her expression relaxed yet alert. It was a stark contrast to the chaos around them, as if Aeri had a way of grounding herself no matter where she was.

“You’re staring,” Aeri said suddenly, not looking away from the fountain.

Y/N startled, her face heating up. “I was not!”

“Were too.” Aeri finally turned to face her, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Y/N crossed her arms, trying to regain her composure. “Maybe I was just admiring the fountain.”

“Sure,” Aeri said, clearly unconvinced but willing to let it slide.

The moment hung between them, unspoken but not unnoticed. Y/N felt her heart race, the atmosphere suddenly charged with something she couldn’t quite define.

Before she could dwell on it, Aeri stood and offered a hand. “Come on. We’ve got more aimless wandering to do.”

Y/N hesitated, then took her hand, letting Aeri pull her to her feet. “You’re ridiculously good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?”

“Making being lost feel like an adventure.”

Aeri’s grin widened, her fingers lingering in Y/N’s for a moment longer than necessary. “Guess I’m just full of surprises.”

The carousel glowed like a beacon in the night, its swirling lights painting soft trails of gold, red, and blue across the dark sky. Delicate music floated through the air, blending with the background hum of laughter and chatter. Y/N and Aeri stood at the edge of the ride, observing the spinning horses and ornate chariots.

“I can’t remember the last time I was on a carousel,” Y/N admitted, hands tucked into her jacket pockets.

Aeri tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “What, too grown-up for a bit of whimsy?”

“I didn’t say that!” Y/N defended, though the way she avoided Aeri’s playful gaze said otherwise.

“Sure you didn’t.” Aeri smirked and nodded toward the ticket collector. “Come on, let’s ride it.”

Before Y/N could protest, Aeri was already pulling out two tickets, her confidence leaving no room for debate. Y/N sighed but followed, a small smile creeping onto her face.

The ride operator, a grizzled man with a surprisingly gentle demeanor, gestured for them to choose their seats. Aeri immediately gravitated toward a sleek black horse with a silver mane, while Y/N hesitated before selecting a white horse beside it.

As the ride started, the carousel began its gentle rotation, the horses rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Y/N gripped the pole in front of her, watching the world blur into streaks of color.

“This is actually kind of nice,” Y/N admitted, her voice raised slightly over the tinkling carousel music.

Aeri turned to her, leaning one elbow casually against the pole of her horse. “Told you. Sometimes you just have to let yourself enjoy the little things.”

Y/N glanced at her, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. Aeri’s face, illuminated by the carousel lights, was almost mesmerizing. There was something about her relaxed confidence, the way she seemed completely at ease, that made Y/N’s chest tighten.

“You’re really good at this whole ‘making everything fun’ thing,” Y/N said, trying to keep her tone light.

Aeri’s lips curved into a sly smile. “What can I say? I’m good company.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Aeri teased, shifting slightly on her horse so she could face Y/N more directly.

The carousel continued its steady rotation, the music softening slightly as the ride began to reach its midpoint. The atmosphere felt oddly intimate, as if the blur of the carnival outside had faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own little world.

Aeri tilted her head, her gaze steady and curious. “You know, you’re different from what I expected.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Different how?”

“Just… different.” Aeri shrugged, but her expression was thoughtful. “Most people I meet are either trying too hard or not trying at all. But you? You’re just… you. It’s refreshing.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, and she quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the carousel’s ornate decorations. “That’s a weird compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“It’s not weird,” Aeri said, her tone softer now. “It’s honest.”

The words hung between them, heavier than Y/N expected. She risked a glance at Aeri, and the look in her eyes made Y/N’s stomach flip. There was something unspoken there, something that made her heart race and her palms sweat.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aeri leaned closer, her smile turning playful but her eyes still serious. “Because I’m wondering when you’re going to admit you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

Y/N’s breath caught, her mind racing for a response. “I—what?”

“You heard me.” Aeri’s smile widened, but there was a tenderness to it now, a vulnerability that Y/N hadn’t seen before. “You’ve been smiling all night, even when we were completely lost. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Because Aeri was right—she had been smiling. Despite the chaos, the confusion, and the unexpectedness of it all, she’d been happier tonight than she had in a long time.

“Okay, fine,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely audible over the carousel music. “Maybe I’m enjoying myself. A little.”

Aeri laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

The ride began to slow, the horses descending to their starting positions. Y/N felt a pang of disappointment, wishing they had just a little more time.

As the carousel came to a stop, Aeri slid off her horse with an easy grace, extending a hand to help Y/N down. Y/N hesitated for a moment before taking it, her heart skipping a beat at the warmth of Aeri’s touch.

“Thanks,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anytime,” Aeri replied, her smile soft but unreadable.

They stepped off the ride together, the vibrant chaos of the carnival rushing back in around them. But for Y/N, it felt like the world had shifted somehow, as if the carousel ride had marked the beginning of something she didn’t quite understand yet.

“So,” Aeri said, her tone lighter now, “what’s next? Another ride? More cotton candy?”

Y/N laughed, her nervousness fading into the background. “How about you let me decide for once?”

“Deal.” Aeri’s grin was teasing but genuine, her eyes sparkling under the carnival lights.

As they walked away from the carousel, Y/N couldn’t help but glance back at it, the lights and music fading into the distance. She didn’t know what was happening between her and Aeri, but for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid to find out.

The grassy hill just outside the carnival buzzed with quiet anticipation, families and couples sprawled on blankets as they waited for the fireworks to begin. Aeri and Y/N found a spot near the edge, slightly away from the crowd. The night air was cool, the faint hum of the carnival rides drifting up the hill along with bursts of laughter and chatter.

“This is a good spot,” Y/N said, plopping onto the grass and leaning back on her hands.

Aeri sat down beside her, crossing her legs and glancing around. “Not bad. Though I’m starting to think you dragged me up here to escape.”

Y/N smirked. “Maybe I did. You’ve been hogging all the decision-making tonight.”

“Only because I’m better at it,” Aeri teased, nudging Y/N’s shoulder playfully.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. The sky above them was a deep navy, stars faintly visible against the encroaching haze of carnival lights. A cool breeze rustled the grass, carrying the faint scent of popcorn and cotton candy.

“You ever watch fireworks like this before?” Y/N asked, tilting her head back to look at the sky.

Aeri leaned back as well, resting her weight on her hands. “Not in a while. The last time was probably when I was a kid. You?”

“Same.” Y/N’s voice softened. “It was at a fair like this one. My parents took me, and we watched the fireworks from the top of a Ferris wheel. It felt… magical, I guess.”

Aeri turned her head slightly to study Y/N’s profile. “You still believe in magic like that?”

Y/N shrugged, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “I don’t know. I think I want to.”

Before Aeri could reply, a sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by an explosion of light. The first firework bloomed in the sky, a brilliant burst of gold that faded into glittering sparks.

Y/N gasped softly, her eyes widening. “Wow.”

Aeri smiled, her attention split between the fireworks and Y/N’s reaction. “Yeah. Wow.”

The fireworks came in a steady rhythm, painting the sky with vibrant reds, blues, and greens. The hill fell into a hushed awe, save for the occasional murmur of children pointing out their favorite bursts.

Y/N’s gaze flickered to Aeri, who was completely engrossed in the display. The colors reflected in her eyes, and for a moment, Y/N forgot to breathe.

Aeri must have sensed the stare because she turned, catching Y/N mid-thought. “What?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said quickly, heat rushing to her cheeks. She looked back at the sky, silently cursing herself.

Aeri’s lips curved into a small smile, but she didn’t press. Instead, she shifted slightly closer, her shoulder brushing against Y/N’s.

“Can I ask you something?” Aeri’s voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

“Sure,” Y/N said, stealing a glance at her.

“Do you believe in fate?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Fate?”

“Yeah.” Aeri’s gaze dropped to the grass in front of her, her fingers idly plucking at a blade. “Like… things happening for a reason. People meeting because they’re supposed to.”

Y/N considered it, her brow furrowing. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it like that. Why?”

Aeri hesitated, her usual confidence replaced by a rare vulnerability. “I don’t know. Just feels like... tonight, for example. We were both lost, looking for someone, and somehow ended up spending the whole night together.” She glanced up, her eyes searching Y/N’s. “Doesn’t that feel a little... serendipitous?”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She opened her mouth to reply, but another firework exploded, casting a brilliant pink hue over the hill.

“I guess it does,” Y/N admitted finally, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the fireworks. “But maybe it’s just coincidence.”

Aeri tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s something more.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush again, and she quickly looked away, focusing on the fireworks. But even as she tried to dismiss Aeri’s words, the weight of them lingered.

Another burst of light lit up the sky, and Aeri turned her attention back to the display. “It’s okay if you don’t believe in it,” she said after a moment, her tone light but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper. “I just think… sometimes, things happen that we can’t explain. And maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away, her mind racing. She wanted to brush off Aeri’s words, to chalk it up to the magic of the carnival and the moment. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something different about tonight. About Aeri.

As the finale began, the fireworks bursting in rapid succession, Aeri leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m glad I bumped into you tonight, Y/N.”

Y/N turned to her, their faces inches apart. The world seemed to fade away, the vibrant chaos of the fireworks dimming in the background.

“Me too,” Y/N said softly, her chest tightening as she held Aeri’s gaze.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, they both looked back at the sky, the moment suspended between them like a delicate thread.

The fireworks ended in a brilliant crescendo, the hill erupting into applause. But Y/N barely heard it, her thoughts consumed by the woman sitting beside her and the strange, wonderful feeling blooming in her chest.

As the crowd began to disperse, Aeri stood, brushing off her jeans. “Come on. Let’s see what else this carnival has to offer.”

Y/N followed, her heart still racing as she fell into step beside Aeri. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

The carnival’s food court was alive with the sounds of sizzling grills, laughter, and the occasional shout from a vendor advertising their fried delights. The air was thick with the smell of roasted corn, sweet churros, and salty pretzels.

Y/N balanced a tray of food in her hands as she weaved through the maze of picnic tables. She spotted Aeri sitting at a corner table, her chin resting on her palm as she lazily scrolled through her phone.

“Alright, feast time,” Y/N declared, setting the tray down with a grin.

Aeri looked up, her face lighting up at the sight of the food. “Finally. I was starting to think you’d gotten lost again.”

“Very funny.” Y/N plopped down across from her, grabbing a churro. “I was just making sure we had enough options. You’re welcome.”

Aeri surveyed the tray: a mountain of nachos, two corn dogs, a funnel cake, and a pile of churros. “Did you order the whole menu?”

“Hey, you don’t survive carnival nights on an empty stomach.” Y/N bit into her churro, powdered sugar dusting her lips. “Besides, it’s all part of the experience.”

Aeri laughed, grabbing a corn dog. “I’m not complaining.”

They ate in companionable silence for a while, the hum of the food court and the distant sounds of carnival rides filling the space between them.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the quiet, “do you go to carnivals often? You seem… oddly at home here.”

Aeri smirked. “What, because I’m good at navigating and making decisions?”

“Because you’re good at being bossy,” Y/N shot back playfully.

Aeri chuckled, twirling her corn dog like a microphone. “Well, if you must know, I actually love carnivals. Always have. My family used to go every summer when I was a kid. It was the one time everyone seemed… happy.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in Aeri’s tone. “Not a lot of happy times otherwise?”

Aeri shrugged, her eyes dropping to the table. “Not exactly. My parents were always busy, and when they weren’t, they were arguing. But at the carnival, it was different. It was like stepping into another world where nothing else mattered. Just the lights, the rides, the laughter…” She trailed off, her gaze distant.

Y/N leaned forward, her voice soft. “That sounds… bittersweet.”

Aeri nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. But it’s why I still love coming here. It’s like chasing a little piece of that happiness, you know?”

Y/N’s chest tightened. She’d spent most of the night teasing Aeri, but this glimpse of vulnerability caught her off guard. “I get it,” she said quietly. “Sometimes it’s nice to escape for a while.”

Aeri looked up, her eyes meeting Y/N’s. “What about you? What’s your story, carnival expert?”

Y/N hesitated, chewing on her lip. “My family wasn’t really the carnival type. But my friends and I used to come every summer when we were kids. It was kind of our tradition. Now that we’re older, it’s harder to get everyone together. That’s why I was so determined to find them tonight.”

“Yet here you are,” Aeri said, smirking. “Stuck with me instead.”

Y/N laughed. “You’re not the worst company.”

“High praise,” Aeri teased, but her smile softened. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad I bumped into you tonight.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She looked down at her churro, suddenly very interested in the powdered sugar. “Yeah, me too.”

The conversation lulled as they finished their food, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that felt easy, like they’d known each other for longer than just a few hours.

As Aeri polished off the last of the nachos, she leaned back in her chair, her eyes flicking to Y/N. “You know, this might be the best carnival I’ve been to in years.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow. “Because of the churros?”

Aeri grinned. “Because of you.”

Y/N froze, her cheeks heating up. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, she laughed nervously, reaching for the funnel cake to avoid Aeri’s gaze.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Aeri said, her tone teasing but her eyes warm.

“I’m not shy,” Y/N muttered, tearing off a piece of funnel cake.

“Sure, you’re not.” Aeri’s smirk widened, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You’re kind of cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Y/N nearly choked on her bite of funnel cake, earning a laugh from Aeri. “Stop teasing me!”

“Can’t help it,” Aeri said, her laugh fading into a soft smile. “You’re fun to be around, Y/N.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. “You’re not so bad yourself, Aeri.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the noise of the food court fading into the background. Y/N felt a strange mix of nervousness and excitement, like she was standing on the edge of something she couldn’t quite define.

Then, Aeri broke the silence with a grin. “So, what’s next on the carnival adventure?”

Y/N exhaled, grateful for the shift back to lighter territory. “How about we try that ring toss again? I need to redeem myself after you beat me at the dart game.”

“Deal,” Aeri said, standing and grabbing the empty tray. “But don’t cry when I win this time.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile as they left the food court.

The haunted house loomed before them, its facade painted with cartoonishly spooky scenes: grinning skeletons, howling ghosts, and jack-o’-lanterns with sinister smirks. The ride’s creaking sound effects played on a loop, interspersed with high-pitched screams that were either part of the attraction or real terror from past riders.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Aeri asked, her tone light but her smirk teasing.

Y/N squared her shoulders, feigning confidence. “Please. A couple of fake cobwebs and rubber spiders? I’ve seen scarier TikToks.”

Aeri laughed, clearly unconvinced. “Alright, fearless leader. Lead the way.”

They handed their tickets to the ride operator, who cackled in an over-the-top witchy voice, ushering them into a narrow corridor lit by flickering bulbs. The door creaked shut behind them, plunging them into dim light and eerie silence.

Y/N took a steadying breath. It’s all fake. Totally fake. No reason to freak out.

But as they stepped further into the ride, the air grew colder, and the sound of distant chains rattling made Y/N’s bravado falter. Aeri walked beside her, her hands in her pockets, looking completely unbothered.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Aeri said, glancing at her.

“I’m taking in the, uh, ambiance,” Y/N replied, her voice higher than she intended.

“Right.” Aeri’s smirk was audible.

Suddenly, a figure lunged out from the shadows—a ghoul with glowing red eyes and tattered clothes. Y/N let out a shriek and instinctively grabbed Aeri’s arm, holding on for dear life.

Aeri burst out laughing. “Ambiance, huh?”

“That was cheap!” Y/N protested, still clinging to her. “It jumped out of nowhere!”

“It’s literally its job,” Aeri teased, prying Y/N’s fingers loose only for Y/N to grab onto her other arm instead.

The path twisted and turned through narrow hallways and fake graveyards. Animatronic zombies groaned and reached out, while eerie whispers played from hidden speakers. Every time something jumped out, Y/N yelped and latched onto Aeri, who seemed to be enjoying herself immensely.

“I thought you weren’t scared,” Aeri said, her voice lilting with amusement.

“I’m not scared,” Y/N insisted, her grip tightening as a skeleton swung down from the ceiling.

“Of course not,” Aeri said, biting back a laugh. “You’re just... testing my reflexes?”

“Exactly,” Y/N said, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

As they turned a corner, the hallway suddenly filled with fog, and a distorted laugh echoed through the space. A dark figure emerged, holding what looked like a chainsaw.

“Okay, nope,” Y/N said, spinning on her heel, but Aeri caught her by the shoulders.

“Relax,” Aeri said, her voice calm but laced with humor. “It’s fake, remember?”

Y/N nodded quickly, trying to calm her racing heart. “Right. Totally fake.”

But when the chainsaw revved, Y/N let out another startled cry and practically jumped into Aeri’s arms.

Aeri couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.”

Y/N, face buried in Aeri’s shoulder, groaned. “Stop laughing! This is terrifying!”

“You’re clinging to me like a koala,” Aeri teased, her arms wrapping loosely around Y/N for balance. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Y/N pulled back just enough to glare at her, though her cheeks were bright red. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“I am,” Aeri said, her grin softening into something more affectionate. “But seriously, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Y/N blinked at her, the sincerity in Aeri’s voice momentarily distracting her from the spooky surroundings. “You... do?”

“Of course,” Aeri said, giving her a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “Now, let’s get out of here before you faint.”

They navigated the rest of the haunted house, Y/N sticking close to Aeri despite her earlier bravado. By the time they reached the exit, the fresh night air was a welcome relief.

Y/N let out a deep breath. “I survived. Barely.”

“Barely is right,” Aeri said, holding back another laugh.

“Alright, make fun of me all you want,” Y/N said, crossing her arms. “But I don’t see you volunteering to go back in there.”

“That’s because I already proved how brave I am,” Aeri replied smoothly.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks for... you know, putting up with me in there.”

“Anytime,” Aeri said, her tone light but her eyes warm. “I mean it. I’ve got you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the words, and for a moment, she thought the haunted house had been worth it after all.

The sound of soft, lively music floated through the night air as they wandered past a section of the carnival that seemed quieter, almost tucked away from the main attractions. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed above a modest wooden dance floor, casting a warm, inviting glow over the scene. A small band played upbeat tunes on a raised platform nearby, their cheerful melodies drawing in couples and groups alike.

Y/N paused, taking in the sight of people swaying and spinning to the rhythm, their laughter mingling with the music. “I didn’t realize there was dancing here,” she said, more to herself than to Aeri.

Aeri, standing beside her, followed Y/N’s gaze, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “You like dancing?”

Y/N shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets. “I mean... I’m not terrible at it. Why?”

Before Y/N could process what was happening, Aeri extended a hand toward her, an unmistakable sparkle in her eyes. “Let’s find out.”

Y/N blinked, glancing from Aeri’s hand to her face. “Oh, no. I don’t—”

“Come on,” Aeri coaxed, taking a small step closer. “You survived a haunted house. What’s a little dancing?”

Y/N hesitated, her cheeks flushing. “You’re really not giving me a choice, are you?”

“Not even a little,” Aeri replied with a grin, reaching out to gently grab Y/N’s hand and tug her toward the dance floor.

The music shifted to a jaunty swing tune, and Aeri’s confidence was almost contagious as she led them into the crowd. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as Aeri started moving, her steps surprisingly fluid and sure.

“You didn’t tell me you could dance,” Y/N said, trying to keep up.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Aeri replied, spinning Y/N suddenly, eliciting a surprised yelp that turned into laughter.

The playful energy between them mirrored the upbeat tempo of the music. Y/N felt her earlier nervousness fade as they moved together, Aeri’s effortless charm making it impossible not to have fun.

But then the band transitioned into a slower song, and the dancers around them began to pair off, swaying gently to the more romantic rhythm.

Y/N stepped back instinctively. “We should, um, sit this one out—”

Aeri caught her hand before she could retreat, her expression softening. “Stay.”

Y/N looked up at her, the world around them blurring slightly as the moment stretched. “Aeri, I’m not sure I—”

“Just follow my lead,” Aeri said quietly, her tone soothing.

Before Y/N could protest, Aeri slid one hand to her waist and held her other hand firmly but gently, guiding her into the simple, swaying rhythm of the music.

The sounds of the carnival seemed to fade, leaving only the band’s melody and the warmth of Aeri’s presence. Y/N stumbled once, laughing nervously. “Sorry, I’m not—”

“You’re fine,” Aeri interrupted, her voice steady and reassuring.

They moved in small, easy steps, the space between them narrowing as they grew more comfortable. Y/N found herself looking up at Aeri, her heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the dancing.

“You’re good at this,” Y/N said softly, her voice almost lost beneath the music.

“I’ve had practice,” Aeri admitted with a small smile. “But it’s different with you.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed slightly. “Different how?”

Aeri hesitated, her usual confidence faltering for just a moment. “It feels... easier. Like it’s supposed to be this way.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, the sincerity in Aeri’s voice catching her off guard. She didn’t know how to respond, so she focused instead on the feeling of Aeri’s hand on her waist, the warmth radiating between them, and the way Aeri’s eyes seemed to hold hers with unspoken meaning.

The song wound to a gentle close, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The applause from the other dancers barely registered as Aeri stepped back, her hand lingering in Y/N’s.

“See?” Aeri said, her grin returning. “You’re not terrible at dancing.”

Y/N laughed softly, the tension easing as she rolled her eyes. “Thanks, I guess.”

Aeri tilted her head, studying Y/N with an expression that was both playful and serious. “You know, if we don’t find your friends tonight, I wouldn’t mind being stuck with you a little longer.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the casual way Aeri said it, though her cheeks heated at the implication. She couldn’t find the words to respond, so she just nodded, her fingers still loosely entwined with Aeri’s.

The carnival had started to quiet down as the night stretched on, but the lively hum of the attractions persisted, casting a dreamy atmosphere over the dwindling crowd. Aeri and Y/N wandered along the path, their steps naturally falling into sync. The glow of neon lights reflected in their smiles as they stumbled upon a photo booth tucked near the edge of the fairgrounds.

“Oh, we have to do this,” Aeri declared, her eyes lighting up at the sight.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, laughing. “Really? Isn’t that kind of cliché?”

“Exactly,” Aeri replied, grabbing Y/N’s wrist and tugging her toward the booth. “That’s what makes it fun. Besides, we need souvenirs to remember this ridiculous night.”

Y/N chuckled, letting herself be pulled along. “Fine, but if the machine eats our money, I’m blaming you.”

The booth was a charming relic of the past, its paint chipped but the flashing “Photos Here!” sign still inviting. Aeri slipped into the cramped space first, patting the spot next to her. “Come on, let’s make it good.”

Y/N hesitated before squeezing into the booth, her shoulder brushing against Aeri’s in the tight space. The proximity made her pulse quicken, but she tried to play it cool.

Aeri leaned forward to inspect the screen. “Okay, we’ve got four shots. Let’s make them count.”

The countdown began, and they jumped into action:

First shot: They made exaggerated peace signs, their faces scrunched into ridiculous expressions.

Second shot: Aeri crossed her eyes, and Y/N stuck her tongue out, both bursting into laughter right as the camera flashed.

Third shot: Aeri pretended to hold a serious pose, but Y/N nudged her at the last second, catching her mid-laugh.

As the fourth countdown began, Aeri’s laughter faded, replaced by an unreadable expression. She turned slightly, her eyes locking onto Y/N’s, the carnival lights outside casting a kaleidoscope of colors across their faces.

“What?” Y/N asked softly, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of carnival noise.

The timer beeped.

And then Aeri leaned in.

Her lips found Y/N’s in a heartbeat, the kiss igniting like a spark against the night’s cool air. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but when Y/N didn’t pull away—when Y/N kissed her back—it deepened into something magnetic.

The flash went off, capturing the moment perfectly: two silhouettes lost in each other amidst the chaos of the carnival.

When the camera stopped, they didn’t. The kiss lingered, a tangle of shared breath and unspoken feelings that had been building all night. Y/N’s hand instinctively reached for Aeri’s shoulder, steadying herself as her mind spun.

Finally, they pulled apart, both breathing heavily, their foreheads nearly touching. Y/N opened her mouth to say something, but words felt useless.

Aeri was the first to speak, her lips curling into a smug but tender smile. “So, still think this is cliché?”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushed as her lips curved into a small, dazed smile. “No. Not even close.”

The machine whirred, spitting out the photo strip. Aeri grabbed it, glancing at the frames before holding it up with a victorious grin.

“This one’s definitely going on my wall,” she teased, pointing to the last frame of their kiss.

Y/N snatched it from her hand, laughing despite herself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, you haven’t walked away.” Aeri’s voice softened, her confidence taking on a gentler edge. “You’re not going to, are you?”

Y/N looked at her, at the girl who had turned a lost night into something unforgettable. “Not a chance,” she said, her voice steady but warm.

Aeri grinned, her hand slipping into Y/N’s as they stepped out of the booth, the photo strip tucked safely into Y/N’s pocket.

“Good,” Aeri said, pulling Y/N closer as they wandered back into the carnival.

The carnival lights cast a dreamlike glow over the grounds, their vibrant hues reflecting in the puddles left by an earlier drizzle. The crowd had thinned, leaving behind only the most dedicated visitors. Y/N and Aeri meandered through the maze of closing booths and dimming rides, their search for their friends feeling more like an excuse to linger together than an actual goal.

“They’re probably halfway home by now,” Y/N said with a sigh, though her tone lacked conviction.

“No way,” Aeri replied confidently. “My friends wouldn’t leave without me. They’d want to see how I embarrassed myself first.”

Y/N laughed, brushing her hand through her hair. “What makes you think you embarrassed yourself?”

“Oh, please. I’m soaking wet from the log flume, lost a cotton candy eating contest, and I was thoroughly humiliated at the dart game. I’m a walking disaster tonight.”

Y/N glanced at her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You were also great company.”

Aeri looked at her, the carnival lights catching in her eyes. “So were you.”

Before Y/N could respond, a shout interrupted the moment.

“Y/N!”

Y/N turned toward the voice, spotting a group of familiar figures running toward them. Minji led the pack, her long coat flapping behind her, followed by Hanni, Danielle, Haerin, and Hyein.

“Oh my god, you’re okay!” Danielle said, relief clear in her voice as she reached Y/N first and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Minji said, her hands on her hips, a mix of worry and exasperation on her face. “What happened?”

Before Y/N could explain, another voice cut through the air.

“Aeri!”

From the opposite direction, Aeri’s friends appeared, making a beeline toward her. Jimin led the charge, followed by Minjeong, who still carried her oversized stuffed bear, and Yizhuo, holding what seemed to be her fifteenth snack of the night.

“There you are,” Jimin said, her tone more teasing than scolding. “We thought you’d gone AWOL.”

“I told you she was fine,” Minjeong said, adjusting the stuffed bear. “She always lands on her feet.”

“Or on someone else’s,” Yizhuo added with a smirk, her gaze flicking to Y/N.

Suddenly, the two groups collided, their respective members eyeing one another with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Who’s this?” Minji asked, her gaze sharp as she looked Aeri up and down.

“Y/N’s new friend, apparently,” Hanni said, raising an eyebrow.

“And who are they?” Jimin asked, gesturing to Y/N’s friends with a curious tilt of her head.

“They’re my friends,” Y/N said quickly, stepping between the two groups before things could get awkward. “And, uh, this is Aeri. We...kind of got lost together.”

“Lost?” Minji repeated, her eyes narrowing.

“Together?” Minjeong echoed, her smirk growing.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Y/N protested, her cheeks flushing.

“Oh, I’m definitely looking,” Hanni said, folding her arms as she glanced between Y/N and Aeri.

“Relax,” Aeri said, stepping closer to Y/N. “She’s been keeping me company all night. Actually, she’s the only reason I didn’t spend the last five hours wandering in circles.”

“That’s...weirdly sweet,” Haerin muttered, her quiet observation drawing laughter from both groups.

Yizhuo nudged Aeri with her elbow. “What she’s trying to say is she had fun. A lot of fun.”

“I could’ve said that myself,” Aeri muttered, shooting Yizhuo a glare.

“Oh, you totally could’ve,” Yizhuo replied innocently, “but we’d still be waiting.”

Hyein looked at Y/N with a mischievous grin. “So, Y/N, is this carnival your new favorite place now?”

Y/N groaned. “Not you too!”

The teasing continued, laughter and banter flying between both groups. Despite the chaos, there was an undeniable warmth in the air, a sense of shared understanding that left Y/N feeling unexpectedly grateful for the interruption.

Eventually, Jimin clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, it’s late, and I, for one, am ready to go home. But before we do...” She turned to Y/N, a knowing glint in her eye. “You’re welcome to join us next time.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the invitation. “Next time?”

Aeri smirked, her confidence returning in full force. “Of course. Same time, same place, next weekend?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding, her smile growing. “Next weekend.”

As their friends began to scatter, Aeri leaned in close, her voice dropping so only Y/N could hear. “I meant what I said earlier. You made this night a lot better.”

Y/N’s heart raced, but she managed to reply, “So did you.”

Aeri pulled back, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “Good. Then it’s a date.”

#wlw #aespa #aespa x y/n #aespa x you #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa giselle #aespa aeri #aeri uchinaga #aeri uchinaga x reader #aeri uchinaga x fem reader #aeri x reader #aeri x fem reader #giselle #giselle x reader #gieselle x fem reader

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immortalbumblebee · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 19: Heart of Gold

Figured the Vander fandom could use a lil' treat right about now, so here's my gift to all of you! Fingers crossed for Act 3 tomorrow!

(Also yes, two updates in a single week. Points to me!)

THIS IS SMUT! 18+! MINORS DNI PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Masterlist

“You hungry at all? Think we’ve got some leftovers I can warm up for y’.” He asks once you step through the threshold, shutting the door behind you. The apartment feels eerily empty without the others, despite the mountains of stuff that litter the floor space and every perceivable surface. But the homey warmth is welcomed after your bitterly cold walk home. You feel your cheeks begin to warm, sense coming back into them. You’ve hidden your hands in the large sleeves of Vander’s jacket, but still curl your fingers as warm blood begins to flow back into them.

You shake your head. “Maybe some water, if you don’t mind? And find where we put the bandages?” You ask. You’ll have to put fresh plasters on your injuries after your shower.

“Of course!” Vander nods, and once the door lock clicks, he turns back to face you. He stands there for a moment, hands in his pockets and shuffling his weight from foot to foot, and looking down at you without saying anything. The air felt thick, charged, like something still hung between you, unresolved. So much so that it took you a solid moment to even realize you were doing much the same, just stupidly looking up at him. You found yourself wanting to say something, to bridge the space, but the words felt too small, too fragile. So, you just stood there. Time stretched, thick with everything that had been said, and everything that hadn’t. All that was left was the weight of your shared space, now too big for the both of you. The seconds slipped by, silent and heavy, until you weren’t sure if it was you or the room that was holding its breath.

Finally, it’s Vander that speaks first, pulling the world back into motion. “You’re sure you’re alright?” It should be a simple question, but it feels like a lifeline thrown across a gap.

You shift, unknowingly taking a small step towards him, and the tension in your chest that you hadn’t even realized was there begins to lessen. You feel his gaze on you soften, but your own gaze is still absent-mindedly locked on his feet.

“I’m fine now,” you breathe out. Your voice barely more than a whisper. “Promise.” There was a long pause after that—no rush to fill the silence with anything else. But then he takes a step towards you, closing the physical space, and a gentle knuckle moves your chin up to meet his gaze. Something in his eyes—something raw, desperate—mesmerizes you and you suddenly can’t move your eyes away, locked in on the storming gray.

Wordlessly, he extends his hand. You have to shove the sleeve of his jacket up your arm in order to meet his touch with your own, the large calloused hand easily enveloping yours. His thumb brushed over my knuckles once, twice, each touch like a promise, soft but knowing. Still silent, he lifts your hand to his lips. The warmth of his breath ghosts over your wrist before he pressed a soft kiss to the plaster, the touch lingering, gentle, reverent. Then, with gentle fingers, he opens your hand to press it against the warmth of his cheek. Despite your best attempts to keep your hands warm outside, the warmth of his cheek burns at the winter-bitten skin of your fingers, and his stubble brushes against the meat of your palm.

His eyes closed, just for a moment, and in the stillness, there was something…but you couldn’t put a name to the feeling that filled that entryway to your shared apartment. Meditation? Thoughtfulness? A prayer? An apology? Whatever it was, you stayed, refusing to pull away but fighting the urge to bury yourself in his chest and stay there for an eternity. Thankfully, you don’t have to fight the urge for too long as he eventually does lower your hand, giving it one last, soft, reassuring squeeze before lowering it back to your side.

“I’ll get that water for you, Love.” He says with a smile, snapping you out of your daze. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. Somewhere between sad and thankful. “Go and wash up.”

“Right.” You nod. Showering! Showering is good! In all your romantic kissy-faces to each other, you’d almost forgotten the reason you had been itching to return home so quickly. You quickly peel off his jacket, handing it back to him before bending down to unlace your boots. As you do, you’re quickly reminded of the coolness of your apartment as it hits your very exposed flesh all at once. Gods, you needed to get out of these fighting clothes. Would it be too dramatic to say you wanted to burn them? Maybe. But the thought still crossed your mind.

The steam that wrapped around you was almost like a blanket, the warmth of the water a slow, soothing balm against your aching bones. The hot spray cascading from the top of your head, and pouring down your neck and over the skin of your back. Lazily, you’d lifted an arm and watched as the water washed away the dirt and grime from the past few hours, leaving behind murky trails as the droplets rolled down your skin.

You shouldn’t be taking too long in the shower, you knew this. The boilers for your apartment building were old, and tended not to hold much hot water. But the minute you felt the heat seep into your muscles, you were hypnotized. Closing your eyes, you turned and let the water flow down your hair and into your face, the sound of rushing water drowning out any and all noise from the world outside. It hurts a little when the water hits your nose, shocking you out of your peace and making you step back away from the stream.

Right, you think to yourself, your injuries. Had to work around those…

You look down at your damaged wrists, the raw, angry skin still tender from the rough treatment, and a small annoyance flickers in your chest. How are you supposed to wash your hair when you can’t even get soap in the wounds? Your fingers hover near the shampoo bottle, but your mind veers off, lost in a different memory. The shackles. You can almost feel the cold, unforgiving metal around your wrists again, the way they had bitten into your skin, rubbing it raw with every movement, tethering you in a way that was both physical and psychological. The sensation of being bound, unable to escape, floods your thoughts, and the anxiety tightens in your chest.

You breathe deeply, pushing the memories away as best you can. Your gaze shifts to the temperature dial of the shower, and your fingers flex, tentative, before flicking your wrist just so. The heat of the water rises, just a touch more, and as it hits your skin, it’s like a switch flips. The tension in your hands begins to ease, the deep ache in your muscles loosening, like a rusted hinge moving for the first time in ages after being oiled.

There’s a knock at the door that snaps you out of your thoughts, and you call out an invitation to come in.

“Just wanted to check in,” Vander calls, “makin’ sure everything’s alright.”

You respond quickly, without even thinking. “Yup, I’m all good!” But another look at the shampoo bottle reminds you of your predicament. “...actually…could I ask a favour?” An uncomfortable feeling rises in your chest, the dread of having to depend on someone else for something so simple as washing your hair.

The door clicks as Vander steps inside. “Of course, whatever you need.”

“I-” you exhale a sigh of annoyance, “I think I need help washing my hair. My wrists…”

You don’t need to say any more before Vander starts stripping himself of his clothes, the sound of rustling fabric and his belt hitting the tile floor. The rushing water is almost enough to drown out the self-deprecating thoughts that trickle into your mind, and the sound of your heartbeat skipping in your ears as he climbs in behind you.

He doesn’t say anything at first, but you feel his hands on your body. His fingers swiping over the various discoloured bruises that now decorate your skin, some from Sevika, some from the Enforcers. You can feel the weight of their gaze, full of care, but also something else—concern, maybe even guilt. “I promise, I’m fine.” You say as you turn around to face him, and his eyes immediately shift to your nose. You didn’t realize he was so close to you, your chests basically pressed to one another once you’ve turned to face him. “You and I both know I’ve been through worse.” His eyebrows lift a little and he nods, muttering “fair enough,” as he detaches his hands and bends down to the shampoo he knows is yours.

“I’m sorry to ask so much of you.” You blurt as he pours out the bottled liquid. But he just gives you a knowing look.

“It’s you, Doll,” he smiles, and you realize it’s the first genuine smile you’ve seen from him all night. “You could never ask too much of me.”

Your heart skips all over again.

As he begins working the shampoo into your hair, you find yourself leaning into the feel of his fingers. They’re a little awkward, clearly not used to doing this for someone else, but his touch feels heavenly as they rub into your scalp. Your eyes shut, but your hands latch onto his hips to help keep you steady. It doesn’t take him long to work the solution into your short-cut hair, and he ever so gently tilts your head back into the shower’s stream to wash it away.

“That cut to your nose’ll scar nicely.” He remarks as his hands keep busy in your strands.

“Like it?” You tentatively open one of your eyes and smirk. “At least my muzzle’s not quite as mashed as yours.”

He chuckles lowly. “We’re still young, Minnie. Give it a few more years, and we’ll see who’s talking. Besides,” he tips your head back up, but his hands stay entangled in your hair, “even with all the broken cartilage in the world, and every scar imaginable, you’re still gorgeous compared to my ugly mug.”

A heat rises through your chest that has absolutely nothing to do with the steaming shower, and suddenly, your retort about how much you hate that stupid nickname has vanished from your mind. Instead, you force a roll of your eyes and gently swat at his side with a scoff.

“Oh fuck off, so not true.”

“I think it is.” He smiles, his eyes locked on yours as a small smile pulls at his lips. “Besides, can’t blame a man for trying to flatter his girl.”

Your eyebrows fly up into your hairline. “‘Yours’, huh?”

He hums in confirmation, his thumb brushing at the base of your skull. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and your breath catches in your throat. He smirks as he confirms, “mine.” There’s no questioning tone or uncertainty, it’s matter-of-fact. Before you even have time to think of a proper response, he’s bending down to retrieve the soap.

He rathers the bar in his hands, his eyes flickering back and forth up to yours, searching yours, as if asking for permission. The tension in the air is palpable, the space between you thick with hesitation. You nod, just once, barely, but it’s enough. He moves with practiced care, gently moving one sudsy hand to your shoulder. You can feel the bubbles wiping away the remnants of the grime and sweat, but you don’t move your eyes away from Vander. His, on the other hand, scans over every inch of you as he continues to move his hand over your skin. The moment his hands reach for your wrists, you flinch, instinctively pulling back, but he stops—just for a beat, letting you adjust, giving you a moment. His touch is careful, soft as he moves away from the tender wounds.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place. “I should have done something to stop them, to help you.”

You don’t say anything at first, letting him continue to work the soap into your torso. You can feel his hands pause for just a moment around your chest, almost out of habit, before continuing to slide over your sides. Then you lift your hands to his shoulders, stilling him. You search his expression, guilt coming up to the surface and written all over his furrowed brow. You’re looking for something, anything to indicate the right thing to say to him. But then you're moving to your tip-toes, and your hands are sliding around him, pulling his lips down to meet yours.

Your lips are gentle. There’s no heat, no rush, to the kiss but he melts into it all the same. There’s a small, echoed, ‘thump’ as the soap falls to the floor of the shower and his hands encircle your waist. He’s gentle, careful, but pressed you into him. Not unsure or uncertain, just careful of the way your body moves with his touch.

Eventually, you pull away, but he refuses to let you go, and keeps the closeness between you even tighter as he gently presses his forehead to yours. You can feel his breath fanning over your face, and his strong grip keeping you firmly in place. The hot water from the shower streams down your back, and the combined heat from the steam and the shared warmth of his body radiating into both of you. When you do eventually separate, it’s only thanks to a firm hand on his chest that he lets you pull away.

“I think I can handle it from here.” You smile a little to yourself. “I’m 90% sure we’re about to run out of hot water, and I’d really rather that not happen while I’m in here. Is it okay if I meet you out there?”

There’s something like a low growl deep in his chest, and he pulls you in one more time, this time to press a gentle, tender kiss to your wet hair. One of your hands finds its way to his chest, the pads of your fingers tracing over the lines of his muscles appreciatively for a moment longer than strictly necessary before he takes a step back.

“Take all the time you need, Love.” He smiles, squeezing your hand one final time before stepping out. You let him take your hand with him, until the very last moment before he disappears behind the curtain.

As you predicted, it takes next to no time at all for you to finish washing up. You quickly dry off and dress in a much comfier set of clothes, but you’re still toweling off your hair as you step out of the bathroom and into the apartment at large. As you could have guessed, Vander’s sitting there, patiently, on the couch with a first aid kit on standby.

“You didn’t have to actually wait for me.” You explain. “And you really don’t have to help patch me back up.”

“Oh, please,” Vander scoffs and waves you off, “you’ve patched me up plenty, it’s only right if I return the favour every once in a while.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but take the spot next to him nonetheless, smiling as he grabs the antiseptic from the kit. His movements are calm, but a little unsure. Usually it’s him getting patched up, not the other way around. You watch him, the quiet comfort of their presence filling the space between you.

He focuses on your wrists first, his hands gentle as they begin cleaning and dressing your wounds. There’s no rush in the way he works, no sense of urgency, just the steady rhythm of their touch. The coolness of the ointment soothes your skin, and for a moment, you forget the discomfort, focusing instead on the simple act of being cared for. His fingers graze your arm as they adjust the bandage, warm and reassuring.

The silence between you isn’t heavy anymore. It’s easy, companionable, a shared moment of quiet that feels more like a pause than anything else. You lean back into the cushions, finally able to relax, the weight of the day starting to lift, if only for a little while. And in that space, with them beside you, you feel happily reassured, content even.

“You don’t have to apologize, you know.” You break the silence. His hands pause over the bandages for a moment, indicating he heard you, but his gaze doesn’t lift to meet yours. “You did help me. I’m assuming it wasn’t Silco’s idea to get my mom and Niya involved.”

He shrugs, wrapping the second bandage around your other wrist. “It was Silco who said that if we were seen anywhere topside, we’d get thrown in jail with you.” For such a large man, it was surprising when his voice was this small.

“He was probably right.” You nod, and lift your already-bandaged hand to cup his cheek. “But you still found a way to help me. What matters right now is that I’m safe, here with you, and everyone down here’s okay.”

He leans into your touch for a moment, shutting his eyes. He seems to be thinking to himself for a moment, then sighs, nods, and turns his attention back to bandaging you up. You drop your hand.

“Suppose you’re right.” He mumbles, practically a whisper, and he looks up to give you a thankful smile. One you’re more than happy to return.

“When am I not?”

To this, he can’t help but chuckle, and he gives you a knowing look, one that makes the air feel lighter, more peaceful. There’s something about his presence, the way he handles you with care, that feels grounding, even comforting. As he finishes with your wrist, he finally turns his attention to your nose. This one’s easy, shorter work, as he simply dabs on the last of the antiseptic and sticks a plaster to the bridge of your nose, just under your eye line.

As he finishes tending to you, his hands remain steady, not moving away, not yet. He looks up at you, eyes soft, searching for a sign—anything that might let him know you're ready for him to pull away. But you don’t want him to. Instead, you happily let him move closer to you, his body pressing against yours as he captures your lips in a tender, passionate kiss. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in tightly as his mouth moves over yours, a mix of tenderness and hunger in his touch. Time seems to slow down as his mouth moves over yours, the kiss slow and languid, as if he wants to savor every moment. His hands gently caress your face, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw as he kisses you tenderly.

He takes his time, exploring your mouth with a gentle but firm tongue, mapping out every contour. He moves from your lips to your ears, his breath hot on your skin as he whispers sweet nothings, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the length of your neck that make your toes curl. Your hands snake around to the back of his head, your fingers gripping into his hair and successfully drawing out a moan from him. This makes you smirk, but you’re surprised when he quickly pulls his face away from you.

“When do you have to be at work?” He asks, voice husky but concern written on his face.

You shake your head. “I don’t, I booked today off in case the fight went sideways. You?”

His concern melts away into a gleeful smile, his arms enveloping your torso as he lifts you up with absolutely no effort, sitting back to lean against the arm of the couch and pulling you into his lap, your thighs straddling his. “Not until tonight.”

Gods bless!

You dip your face back to meet his lips again, letting a moan ring out at the contact. The kiss is slow and somewhat tentative at first, and it’s clear he wants to be gentle with you. But more and more as your kiss continues to deepen, he quickly becomes more confident until he inevitably dips his head back down to the crook of your neck. But he still moves slowly, taking his time to taste and touch, his mouth finding the sensitive spots on your neck, the hollow of your collarbone, and the slope of your shoulder. His mouth sears a path of pleasure as his hands continue to wander over your body, exploring every dip and curve. His stubble scratches you in the most delectable way.

He worships you with his touch, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you, to commit the feel of your skin to his memory. It feels like every touch of his lips is your own personal heaven, your hand dropping to his shoulder and gripping, your chest heaving as your breath becomes more and more laboured. Damn this man, damn him and his memory of every little nerve ending in your body.

As his hands move under the fabric of your shirt, you give him a silent nod of approval, letting him slide the material up and off your torso and not carrying where into the depths of your home he throws it. He pulls away, just for a moment, as his hands slide up and cup your breasts, his eyes scanning over every inch of you. “Best fuckin’ tits either side of the bridge, I swear to the Gods…” This makes you giggle a little, which only makes his smile grow even wider.

“Shut up and kiss me again, idiot.” You laugh, using your magic to pull him in by the metal studs in his vest. He’s only too happy to follow orders, crashing his lips to yours once again.

Your hands run up his chest, helping him out of his vest and he thankfully takes the hint, pulling his shirt over his head. You take the moment to shimmy out of the pajama shorts you’d only just gotten dressed into as he begins to fiddle with his belt. It only takes a second for you to flick your finger, and the belt unloops itself and goes flying towards the bedroom. He gives you a knowing look.

“What?” You shrug as he resumes discarding his pants. “What’s the point of having these damn powers if I can’t use them, hm?”

“Lil’ trouble maker.” He tsk’s but very shortly pulls you right back to his lap.

His strong, muscular chest pressed up against your own, the feeling of skin against skin sending a wave of heat through both of you. He kisses you with a fervor and intensity that takes your breath away, his hands holding you tightly against him, as if he's scared to let you go. You feel as desired and wanted as you've ever been, every touch and kiss from him making you weak in the knees and stealing all rational thought from your mind. In all your years, you’ve never once felt quite as desired as you do with Vander. Similarly, it takes only a mere touch from him to make your knees weak and your mind go empty. Simply put, it’s just…him. And he’s the only one you want.

The thought, and the pure intimacy of it all, is enough to make your hips begin to grind down on their own accord. You can feel how he’s pressing into you, how hard and perfectly shaped he is against your body. His hand finds your hip, steadying you and catching your gaze in a questioning look.

“Sure you’re up for this tonight, Love?” He asks, thumb rubbing softly against your pelvis bone. But all you’ve got to do is smile and dip down to capture his lips as you tilt your hips and scoot closer, for him to let out a full-body shiver and grab your hips with both hands, and thrust fully into you. You moan out a slew of curses as your body writhes against his, everything else ceasing to exist as he fills you. Getting lost in his embrace, his face finds your neck again and begins to pepper kisses across the skin. You feel the desperate need for friction, a primal urge taking control, but you're already so sensitive and overwhelmed from the initial stretch that you know you need time to adjust. He groans, a deep, guttural thing, when you finally take all of him, and the sound drives through you, making your core tighten in response. Your own self-restraint crumbles, and your hips move on their own accord, silently pleading for him to finally give in and begin the movement you both crave. Thankfully, he seems unable to resist, his own hips moving to match your rhythm until you hit the pace you need, causing pleasure to crash into you.

His strength is absolutely an asset, his hands helping to guide your hips up and down as you begin to slowly ride him. Your mind was already practically spinning, moans and curses tumbling from your lips as he dragged in and out of your warmth. Your hands find his shoulders (fuck, he has nice shoulders), a desperate attempt to ground yourself and bite back the urge to dig your fingernails into his skin.

“So-fuck–” you whine, almost pathetically, “so fucking full.”

The sound sends a shockwave through Vander, all but ramming himself deeper into you in a way that feels like it breaks your brain. But you both feel it, the desperate hunger for more.

“That’s right. You take me so well, don’t you, Love?” He moans into your skin, pulling away from your neck to take in the sight of you on his lap. Somehow, seeing his eyes, seeing the way he looks at you; like water to a man parched, like your the greatest treasure you could hope to find. Mesmerized by the pleasure on your face and the way your tits bounce as you move against him. It feels wonderfully perfect, and all you can do is moan and nod, each time your hips snap down, sending a fresh wave of ecstasy through your body.

He’s relentless, his hips grinding against yours like he owns you, and there’s a sense of ownership in his actions, as if he’s claiming you as his own. He lets out a growl against your ear, and the sound of it sends a shiver down your spine. He’s wild and intense, and the pleasure he’s giving you is so much more than you ever thought possible. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his back as you hold on for dear life, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations.

At this point, any semblance of gentleness is long gone, replaced with the primarily urge, the exquisite electrical feeling that buzzes through both of you. You’re riding him with every intention of chasing both of your releases, every thrust down having him gripping your hips harder and harder to the point where you’re half-aware of the bruises you’re sure to have after. He dips back to the crook of your shoulder one last time, licking up the length of your neck with the flat of his tongue before suddenly, the piercing feeling of his teeth against your shoulder shocks through you. You shriek in the mix of pain in pleasure, letting your head roll back to allow him more access.

“Mine.” He growls into your ear. “Understood?”

“Fuck-yes!” You cry, feeling the coil in your lower stomach begin to tighten. “Yours. All of me, all that I am, yours.”

Fuck it. Right now, right here. All you needed was him.

He’s driving you crazy with a pleasure more intense than you could have imagined, his body moving against yours with a raw, primal force. With each deep, hard thrust, you feel him claiming you, leaving you completely at his mercy, and the sense of submission only adds to the pleasure coursing through you. It’s as if he knows your body better than you do, and he’s able to draw out every ounce of pleasure from you. Knowing you’re both on the brink, he reaches out, grabbing one of your hands and pressing a kiss to your palm, then your bandaged wrist, then your arm, then where he just marked his teeth into your skin, all the way back to claim your lips. It’s maddening and intoxicating all at once, it’s perfect, and you find yourself being flown over the edge.

“That’s-” he lets out his own string of curses as you tighten around him, “that’s it, that’s it! So fucking good!”

Your mind is so fried from your orgasm that you barely register him all but throwing you onto the couch, didn’t even register the feel of the fabric on your back. But you most definitely felt him suddenly thrusting back into you, hooking one of your legs over your shoulder to allow him full and complete access to you. He’s more than happy to press kisses to the inside of your thigh, which mixed with the fully lewd sounds of his quickened pace, is enough to get you fully sex drunk and delirious as he continues to plow into you.

“Gods, you look so-” he bites your thigh, and the same shriek escape your throat, combined with your drunken moans and whines, and it’s enough to make him groan deeply into the flesh he’s biting. “Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Please!” You whine, voice cracking as your hands balling into fists as your mind struggles to comprehend the amount of pleasure flowing through you right now. “I need it, need to feel it! Vander, please!” That’s more than enough to ruin him, Vander dropping your leg so he could crash down and kiss you as he buried himself deep into you with one final thrust. You felt him groan against your lips and claw at your hips as he emptied himself into you, his chest rising and falling with each panted breath.

You remain wrapped up in each other's embrace as several minutes pass, your lips moving against one another’s in a satisfied and languid kiss until he finally pulls away to catch his breath. He gasps for air, his warm breath fanning across your collarbone and sending a shiver through you.

Eventually, he can finally speak again, and he releases a deep, satisfied moan, “Fuuuuuck, that was good.” He manages to lift himself up slightly, gazing down at you with eyes filled with an adoring love, as they reach for your hand, their fingers brushing over your knuckles with a tenderness that makes your heart warm. You smile back at him, feeling giddy and blissful. “You alright, Love?”

Taking a deep, calming breath yourself as your consciousness slowly returns to you, you slide your hands up around his neck. “Oh Gods, yeah.” You laugh, and the smile he cracks is so wide, you’re sure he’s going to hurt himself. His head bends down, peppering your face full of kisses until you’re giggling and pushing him away. “...We should probably maybe move off the couch, though…and maybe grab our clothes before the guys get back.”

He whines a little, but concedes. “Right, yeah, hang on…”

Bless him, he carefully maneuvers you into your room, masterfully managing to stay completely in you until you’re laying on your bed. Then, with one final kiss, you feel him pull out before wandering back to the living room to collect all your things as you begin to clean yourself. It takes mere moments, but it feels like ages until he’s back in the room with you, tucking the both of you into your blankets as you begin to seep into the cozy warmth of your shared bodies.

For a while, you just sit there, the two of you wrapped in warmth and quiet. Every now and then, he gently adjusts the blanket around you, their touch always light, always careful, like he’s trying to wrap you in comfort from every direction. You laugh softly when he tries to adjust your pillow for the third time, but it’s a light, easy sound, one that feels like things are returning to normal again.

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder, and he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. The room feels full of little moments like this—touches that reassure, smiles that say everything without needing to be said. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, but time feels slower, softer, in the best way. The world outside seems distant, like you’re tucked away in this small bubble of calm, where everything feels safe and cared for.

It’s simple, it’s quiet, but in that space, it’s everything.

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 8 months ago

Text

Emily: “I’m really sorry Vaggie didn’t feel comfortable coming back here. If there’s anything I can do to change that-”

Charlie: “Probably not! It was kinda a sign of her endless love for me that she visited haven again at all!”

Emily: “Oh! Oh that’s nice!!”

Charlie: “Which I NEVER would have asked her to do anyway, if I’d KNOWN the truth about her history up here!”

Emily: “Right. I’m so sorry about that too, by the-”

Charlie: “I mean, I’m not the kind of girl who askes her girlfriend to go spend an afternoon sitting across from the people who ripped off her wings! And her eye! And left her slumped against a dumpster looking half dead!”

Emily: “A… dumpster?”

Charlie: “Making the woman you love relive all that without even rEALIZING it would be pretty fucked up, wouldn’t it??”

Emily: “V- very.”

Charlie: “IT HYPOTHETICALLY COULD MAKE SOMEONE FEEL KINDA TERRIBLE AFTERWARDS, DON’T YOU THINK?”

Emily: “I’m sure it did!”

Charlie: “H Y P O T H E T I C A L L Y”

Emily: “Could! I could see that, yes, if it HAD happened, that would’ve been…”

Emily: “…”

Emily: “Are you- um, is she, errr.. doing better now?”

Charlie: “SO much better she’s doing SO great these days!!!!”

IN HELL

Vaggie: (lying face down on the hotel lobby floor) “I promise I won’t stop helping you morons when she dumps me. I won’t let her dream die just because I was dumb enough to think I could be part of it.”

Angel Dust: “That’s nice toots.”

Vaggie: “Thanks.”

Angel Dust: “Not sad or stupidly gay or anythin’.”

Vaggie: “Thanks.”

Cherri Bomb: “Sad? Angie, it’s perfect!” (takes picture) “I’ve been thinking this place could use a new rug…”

Niffty: (stepping on vaggie) “Squishy!”

Husk: “Get the fuck off her.” (at vaggie) “You, get the fuck UP.”

Vaggie: “Why.”

Alastor: “Hmmm, because this is PAINFULLY pathetic to watch, even for me?”

Vaggie: “Guess I’ll be here forever then.”

Angel Dust: “Vag-GAY c’mon, ya girlfirend’s not gonna dump ya. What’s the competition even!?”

Vaggie: “There’s an angel up in heaven who's helping Charlie work towards her life long dreams as we speak, and she's taller than me, got more wings than me, not as stabby as me, and also not a mass murderer or a liar or missing an eye.”

Cherri Bomb: "Hey!"

Vaggie: "No offence to the other one-eyed ladies here, but it's different when you've got a fucked up empty eye socket."

Niffty: (sighs dreamily) "I bet losing it hurt soooo baaaaad..."

Vaggie: "Never telling my girlfriend why I'd actually lost it or how it made me look like the deranged murder angel I was, even while she tried kissing it better for me, ended up hurting way worse."

Angel Dust: “That's a point….”

Angel Dust: “...alright, so Charlie’s PROBABLY not gonna dump ya-”

Niffty: “Oh that’s a weird sound!” (giggling) (bounces on vaggie) “I think she’s dying~”

Husk: “If you fucks kill her, I’m telling her demon princess girlfriend and pouring myself a drink to go with your fucking tormented howls.”

Vaggie: (muffled) “what if she’s my ex-girlfriend”

Husk: “…I’ll pour you a fucking drink and listen to your tormented howls.”

Niffty: “ME TOO I’LL LISTEN TOO!”

Alastor: “Dear one, perhaps if you were NOT standing on her skull and compressing her WRETCHED cries into the floor, we could be hearing them already.”

Niffty: “Whoops~ Heheheeh~”

Cherri Bomb: (recording it) “Damn, that groan’s been going on for ages… Bitch has some lung capacity on her.”

Angel Dust: “Point one for Vag-gay! Probs as good eating out as ya are at HOLDING out on ya girl!!!”

Vaggie: “uuuughhh…uaauuugghhaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaahhhhrrrgh..” (whimpers)

Niffty: “Okay.” (GIGGLES) “NOW she’s dying~” (bounces)

IN HEAVEN

Charlie: “Everything’s totally fine I have NO idea why you’d even ASK!”

Emily: “You’ve spent the entire time up here staring at pictures of Vaggie on your phone?”

Charlie: “I’m allowed to look at my girlfriend!”

Emily: “While crying and sniffling into your sleeve?”

Charlie: (sobbing) (desperately patting down her jacket) “SHE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS WHICH OF MY POCKETS HAS THE HANDKERCHIEF IN IT, OKAY??”

Emily: (smiling) “I think you two are going to be just fine.”

Charlie: (BLOWS NOSE LOUDLY INTO JACKET SLEEVE, which catches on FIRE)

Emily: “…..not your clothes, though. You might need a new set of those.”

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #chaggie #emily hazbin hotel #vaggie #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #niffty hazbin hotel #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #silly nonsense #charlie comes home without her suit jacket and vaggie literally faints thinking she's given to some other angel #charlie does not get why everyone is happy to hear she burnt her own jacket off on accident #while trying and failing to find her special demon-sneeze proof handkerchief #which vaggie (once conscious again) pulls out of her own blouse #bc remember babe- we figured out you kept mistaking it for part of your pocket lining? no matter which pocket we put it in???#so vaggie just started carrying one for her instead #it immediately comes in useful again #emily watches cherri's livestream of this via pentious's phone and CHEERS #while sTILL covered in the ashes and soot of charlie's former jacket #negotiations with heaven are going great #chaggie has a fanpage up there now and everything

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year ago

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Can you believe I've never done Farmtale Sans before? As a certified country girl? Shocking, I know. I'll rectify this issue with my latest brainrot scenario immediately

---

“whoever this is, it better be real fuckin’ important,” the voice at the other end said, gruff and tired, heavy with a mix of annoyance and sleepiness.

Immediately, shame washed over you. The very small amount of steam you’d managed to muster up completely dissipated from your body as you imagined Sans’ disappointed and disbelieving reaction to your pathetic request.

This was a mistake.

“... H-hey. Uhm... I’m fine, I didn’t mean to call. Butt dial, hahah.” Your voice nearly cracked. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“... wait.” His voice instantly changed. “hey, don’t hang up-”

You didn’t hear the rest of what he said. You hung up, and put the phone down. Now you were right back to square one, sitting at the kitchen table in a freezing empty house at 2 in the morning. It had taken you almost half an hour to muster up the courage to call him- thirty minutes of sitting by the phone, wrapped up in your coat, shaking and holding back tears. You started plotting places you were going to sleep. Maybe if you put more wood in the kitchen stove, you could just sleep at the table until morning.

... You inherited this place from your grandmother. It was a ‘rustic’ house that hadn’t seen human company for over a decade, in the middle of the deep countryside, cut off from almost everything. Spooky, draughty, on nights like tonight sitting in the kitchen was like sitting in a fridge. You had moved out of necessity- your landlord in the city had evicted you from your beloved apartment to jack up his prices, and you couldn’t find anywhere else to live except this middle-of-nowhere house left in your name.

You had lived in the city your whole life. You weren’t used to being in the country, not at all. The month you’d spent here had only reinforced that fact to you, over and over.

Something made a noise outside. An animal, maybe. You curled your coat tighter around you.

The only upside so far had been meeting the monsters that made up the tight-knit community you had been unceremoniously dropped into. Papyrus and Sans, especially, had been so wonderful and helpful. Sans had told you to call if you needed anything.

... Which was exactly why you didn’t have the heart to tell him why you were really calling. You didn’t want him to think any worse of you than he probably already did. A stuck-up city girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing.

You were scared.

...

The phone rang. The sound made you jump, it felt so loud in the silence. Despite your increasing shame, and the desire to just let it ring... you picked up.

“c’mon, don’t be like that.” He sounded much softer than when he had first answered. “what’s wrong? something happen?”

“N-no.” Hearing someone else’s voice was so comforting. You felt so alone, far away from everyone. “It’s nothing.”

You obviously weren’t very convincing. “doesn’t seem like nothing. you sound terrified.”

“I’m just cold.”

“didja kill someone? do i need to come over and help hide a body?”

You couldn’t help it, that made you giggle a little.

...

It just came. You didn’t entirely know why. Probably because it was two, and you hadn’t slept since six the previous morning. Unable to help yourself, you just... burst into tears.

“hey. s’ok, you’re gonna be ok. i’m on the way.”

“N-no, no, please,” You pressed your sleeve against your eyes The shame was absolutely overwhelming. “Please don’t come,”

“too late. already outta bed, it’s serious business. you gonna tell me what’s got you all shaken up?”

You pulled your knees up to your face. Well, no hiding it now, huh? He’d heard you sobbing over the phone. Your voice crumpled under a mixture of tears, fear, immense fatigue and shame. You felt like such a baby.

“Th-there’s a huge spider on my bed,” you finally admitted, feebly. “I-I’m... I don’t know what to do.”

“aw jeez. why didn’t you just say?”

You could suddenly barely talk through the crying. Hours of stress, all coming out in one mess. He probably thought you were pathetic.

“hey. knock knock.”

As he said that, you heard two soft knocks on your side door. You jumped up, what the hell? Was that Sans? You dropped the phone and rushed to the door to let him in, almost tripping over yourself.

You opened the door, the air was full of the sound of wind and crickets. Sans stood in the darkness outside of the house, dressed in a thick knitted sweater, blue and white striped pyjama bottoms, big heavy boots, and a coat over the top of it all. He had the phone in one hand, and his smile widened when he saw you.

Shocked, you scrubbed at your eyes and nose again, self consciously trying to wipe off the tears and snot. He lived half an hour's drive from you. ��H-how... how did you get here so fast?”

“shortcut.” He winked, those lovely emerald green eyelights glimmering in the low light. “can i come in?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, stepping to the side. Maybe he knew roads your map apps didn't. Sans eagerly came into the light, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him.

“this way?” he asked.

... You showed him to the bedroom, but cowered in the doorway.

“I-it’s under the sheet.”

Sans didn’t even hesitate. He approached the bed and flipped back the sheet. The spider hadn’t moved since you last saw it scurry under your bedclothes, still sitting right there, with its fat hairy body and sharp legs. It was probably the biggest spider you had ever seen in your entire life. You felt a horrible chill pass over you.

“dang. he is big. look at the size of that gangly fucker.”

Having said that, Sans just... grabbed it. He picked the spider up before it could run and held it in his enclosed fist like he was scooping up a penny he had dropped on the floor. Just like that, he moved across the room and pulled back the curtain, cracked the window open, stuck his arm out, and threw the spider out into the darkness.

He closed the window again. The air felt less heavy. He even tugged the handle to make sure the window was all properly sealed up, pulling the curtains closed again.

It took him all of fifteen seconds.

“all good.” He turned to you, grinning and showing you his open palms. No spider. “successfully evicted.”

...

You started crying again.

Sans mumbled a soft ‘aw jeez’. He didn’t hesitate to cross the room, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a warm hug, ignoring your babbled apologies.

“he really spooked ya, huh?” A gentle hand smoothed over your hair. He smelled like sweet hay, hours of sunshine, and something slightly musky. “how long were you tryna drum up the courage?”

“T-two hours,” you sobbed, muffled in his sweater.

You’d expected him to laugh at you. But he didn’t. He just held you, letting you cry out all the stress that had been building up over the course of the night. You were pretty sure this was the first time you had been hugged since before you left the city.

Eventually, you calmed yourself down, reducing to just hiccups. Sans didn’t let go until you did, allowing you to pull away, but keeping a steadying hand on your arm.

“easy, pet.” His voice was so warm and soothing. “you’re all good.”

“Fucking... I’m just such a baby.” Your sleeves were damp from all of the tear wiping you were doing. You made an unattractive sniffling sound. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

“cus i’m used to ‘em. also, i’m a skeleton, so i don’t gotta worry about being bitten. no shame in bein’ scared of the big ones.”

Your voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry you came out all this way.”

“... did you think i’d be mad at you?” he asked, softly.

“M-mhm.”

“i really don’t mind bein’ yer bug removing hero." He patted his nonexistent bicep. "tell ya what, it makes me feel very big an’ tough.”

He had you giggling again. He always did. He seemed proud of himself- his presence was balm to your Soul right now.

“I just... I get so scared at night.” Your cheeks were hot. “It’s so quiet, and dark. I feel like I’m the only person around for miles. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”

"this?"

"Living out here."

“hey, i beg to differ. yer already doin’ so much better than most who move to these parts.”

You looked up at him. Why did that tiny bit of praise make your heart swell so much? You didn’t feel like you were doing ‘better’. You’d just called your nearest neighbour at 2 in the morning to come save you from a spider. “But I’m always asking for help.”

“exactly. you’re askin’. that’s the important part.” His eyelights were so warm. “that’s how we make it work, out here. we help each other.”

Goddamnit. You were gonna cry again. You just about managed to choke it down.

“... the animal noises also probably freak you out too, huh?”

“Y-yeah, hah.”

“if you don’t know what yer hearin’, it can be pretty scary.”

... You sniffled.

...

“... you’re shaking. d’ya want me to stay?”

How did he know? He always just seemed to know. You nodded, meekly. You didn’t want to be alone right now, and you knew the house would feel even colder and emptier once you’d known how it felt while you had company.

“Will Papyrus be worried?”

“he knew i was headin’ out to help ya. he’ll be fine.”

... You didn’t need to say out loud where you wanted Sans to sleep. Both of you knew.

The two of you finally took off your coats, and Sans turned off the lights. His forest-coloured eyelights were the only illumination in the room. As soon as he shuffled into bed beside you, you gratefully curled up against him, he was so calming and so warm. He reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, his comforting smell soothing your shot nerves.

“... Thank you.” Your voice was almost a whisper.

“yer really warm.” he hummed. “just so you know, i’m a bit of a snorer.”

You probably should’ve been more concerned, sharing a bed in a very secluded location with a guy you barely knew. But you didn’t have the energy for it. For the first time in a long time, you were warm, didn’t feel lonely, and weren’t worried at all about bugs.

“I don’t mind.”

... It was the best night’s sleep you’d ever had.

#llama writes #first time writing farmtale sans !!#big soft man

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shapard · 1 year ago

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Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

A/n: A little bit late for Valentine, but here ya go! Idk when I'll continue this, but this has been stuck in my brain for a long time.

Goldwing

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2

You’ve heard about the story tales from your Mother Sera. How Lucifer has fallen because of his bizarre dreams. To give humans a free will, which cost chaos to the world.

As a punishment he was forced out of heaven with his Love Lilith. Sera claims that she wanted you to be safe, so there is one top rule she set up: Don’t Question heaven.

You keep on holding tight to this one rule, not like your sister Emily. She gets into a lot of trouble when you’re not watching, which gets you also in trouble.

Big Sister, Big responsibility, that’s what your mother always says.

Sitting on the couch looking down at the apple sign on your wrist. It was a small apple with a snake surrounding it. It’s a Soulmate mark.

Every Angel gets a soulmate, so they get the perfect heir, some angels describe It as a heart pull and ache. You don’t really enjoy that you’re forced to love someone. It’s somewhere unfair that humans can marry someone they choose to love and trust. Meanwhile when Angels reject their bond, it will kill the two Soulmates in a span of time.

Even when they’re too long apart it will show in a disturbing way. Aggression, Not eating, no sleep, the list goes on and on.

Putting your sleeve above your mark, not wanting anyone to see it. You got once because of it in trouble. Not a pleasant memory that you want to re live.

It does remind people of Lucifer, but he got Lilith, his soulmate. So that possibility is shrunk to zero. Why else sacrifice living in heaven for a woman?

Today was the meeting with Charlie the daughter of Lucifer. She wanted to talk about a hotel named Hazbin Hotel.

…Time Skip…

The court room was all a mess, chaos has broken out whispering and hushes echoed through the pearly white halls.

Emma broke the Silence with her soft singing voice “But she was right, Sera. She Showed us the soul can Improve. He saw the light, Sera. Checked all the boxes that you said would.” You Interrupted Emily and for the first-time in your live, you disobeyed the one set rule.

“Prove a person deserve a second chance, now we turn our Backs, no second glance?” Sera looked towards you slightly disappointed but also guilty.

Then the bomb was thrown in the room, extermination. It left you speechless. Why hide something like this and say it was for protection?

It all went down so quick and with one move you started to doubt everything in heaven. Sera was scared, scared shitless that she’d loose Emily and you, but mostly you.

You started to Ignore her and rarely left your room. The betrayal was harsh for you. You trusted your mother dearly and now you find out that your mother kills souls because she feels threatened. Threatened because of Lucifers dreams she said was once foolish.

You started to break rules after Rules, causing a havoc in heaven when you leaked the Information about an extermination in hell. And in less than a week you were in chains in the courtroom.

“Do you have any Idea what damage you’ve done Y/n?” Sera’s voice echoed through those now soulless halls. The seats now all almost empty. “What damage I’ve done? You call me the Imposter, but have you ever thought what you’ve done? You lied to your people AND your Family Sera.”

Ouch, you never called her Sera just Mom. “Just do it already, I’m tired of hanging in here and watching my failure of a mother trying to push this longer.” You spat on the cold floor. The coldness reminds you how the last few days felt in heaven. Cold and lonely. “As you wish, do it.” her voice cracked, it was barely audible, but you could hear it.

You shut your eyes tight and with a swift Moment you felt how your wings were cut off, your scream filled these cool, lonely court room. Sera was already gone, not wanting to see how she failed in one of her children.

The rest of your wings were ripped out of your back, making gold blood squirting all over the white floor painting it in a unique color. And then you fell, too exhausted to let out a desperate call for the comfort of your own mother.

She didn’t even stay.

Tears pooled lightly out of your eye. Even though heaven didn’t feel like home anymore, you’ll still miss heaven.

The wind gushed on your Injured back making it only hurt more than it already does, you fell so fast, this is something you never really experienced you never fell as an Angel. But you fell, you fell deep and Landed on the ground.

It the worst you’ve felt in these last hundred years of living. The bone that was connecting your wings with your body broke more into splinters at the impact. It had dirt sticking on your bones making you hiss as you tried to stand up making them move slightly in the dust. No success.

You tried a couple more times, but you feel your stamina running out fast, so you just gave up. You laid there for a couple of seconds before you eventually pass out.

Lucifer sat in his magic room, where his magical creations came from. The only thing besides Charlie what kept him happy. He took final glances at his old façade.

It’s time to move on and move into the Hazbin hotel, even though he hates that radio guy, he does everything for his little Charlie. He walked out of his mansion closing it with a key. Taking a deep breath, he spun around and was ready to go.

Something crashed loud in front of him, swirling all the dirt into Lucifers face. He coughed and waved the dust away. “What the fuck?” He looked at the cause for this early tumult, only to see a very beautiful woman in front of him. It didn’t take him a while to see that she was pretty bad Injured. His eyes dropped at the golden blood. “Oh no.”

The figure tried to stand up but fall multiple times and passed out after a while. No, no, no, no. Turning her around to see the damage, and it is bad.

Three main bones ripped and broken apart, making him note down that she wasn’t just any Angel, she is a seraph. “Let me help you.” He carried her body very carefully, so he couldn’t do more damage towards her back. Teleporting himself and his other stuff in the hotel apartment, he laid you on his bed with your belly pressed on the mattress.

He started to heal your back slowly and washed off the dirt from your face and the injury. He knew he couldn’t fully heal her wings back. But she could survive this with his help. And in an odd reason he couldn’t let her die. Some kind of pull on his heart making him already slightly attach towards the sleeping beauty.

And this routine was repeated every day and when he realized her back was fully healed, he turned her on her back again. Seeing her now in all her beauty.

“How can someone be this pretty?” he moved a hair strand out of your face and held your cheek. Stroking it a couple of times, it is as if he’s hypnotized.

Shaking his head, he let go of her very quickly, “Lucifer you can’t just touch someone, she doesn’t even know you nor who you are.” He bit his long-clawed hand, debating whether he should go or not.

In the end he left the room with heavy displeasure. Somehow not being near you made him angry. You were hurt and needed every protection he could offer.

His mind screamed at him to go back to you, but he didn’t. This feeling confused the king of hell but, His mind and body were almost like two separate people.

He pulled up his sleeve looking down at the red apple mark with a golden blue snake on it, like his halo. It was his Soulmate mark, he loves or loved Lilith dearly, but she wasn’t his mate.

They both thought it may didn’t showed because Lilith is after all a human. Even when he had a soulmate, after landing in hell, he knew he’d never see his soulmate ever.

He pulled his white sleeve again over the mark, not wanting to think about the what ifs. Maybe helping his daughter would keep his mind from you. “Let’s help Charlie.”

After a while Lucifer still caught himself worried about you.

You were laying on his bed for weeks, he healed you every morning and every evening hoping that you’d finally wake up.

The arch angel Lucifer, and now king of hell, was worried about a seraph, what sarcasm.

Getting ready for bed, Lucifer started to dress himself in his night gown and went to the couch. Since you’re sleeping on his bed, Lucifer decided to sleep on the couch. He didn’t want to disturb your healing progress

…

Hugging yourself into this blanket was heaven, and the smell of sweet apple and an alluring scent of musk. You never want to leave this place, for the first time since months you felt in peace.

Fluttering your eyes open, you stretched you arms and legs, but one thing was missing. Your wings. And then reality came crushing down on you. You fell, from heaven. Your mother let you fall down the drain. She lied and didn’t even try to explain it to you.

It was hard to breath as if you’d re-live the horror of falling from heaven down to hell.

You shacked uncontrollable making you Fall out of the bed. Out of habit you tried to fly those few centimeters.

With a shallow thumb you fell on the floor.

You winced from the Impact, and you tried to push yourself up with the next high object with shivering hands.

This was a different gravity situation.

Without your wings you slumped forwards, nothing to weigh your back.

You pushed yourself upwards with the help of the shelf above you. The shelf lets out a creak from your weight and you fall back down with the shelf.

The whole content on the shelf fell and crashed into pieces and you fell right into them.

The ceramic pieces digged into your freshly healed wounds, you know that when you move, you’ll re-open the back wound.

Out of panic your body began to move on autopilot.

With low groans and muffled screams, you leaned on the bed, golden blood smearing around the broken shelf and the white mattress.

You started to sob at the pain.

It was dark and all you wanted was to bathe yourself in the scent of that blanket.

You searched for it.

In the darkness you couldn’t quite figure it out where the blanket was but after a while you found it.

Holding the piece of cloth on your nose just to smell the comforting scent. You yelped when the light flicker on. A figure standing in the light. The figure was about 5’10 tall.

You hid behind the blanket not wanting to look at the sudden appearance at the front door.

…

Lucifer shot up at the sound of breaking ceramic. His mind told him to run towards the sound that came out of your room making him high alert.

An Intruder?

But who’d dare to come into the king of hells chamber?

Then he remembered that you were in his room, and without second thought he rushed towards your bedroom turning on the lights.

“You’re awake!”

#lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #y/n #archangel lucifer #seraphim

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maryangelex · 1 year ago

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Home is the Feeling of You

John Price x Reader

Summary: You’re Price’s fiancé back home and it’s been months since you’ve seen him. He’s been on deployment and days have been getting lonelier the more days pass. Until you get home one night from work to a more than pleasant surprise.

Warnings/Tags: civilian!reader, fiancé!reader, creampie, domesticity, domestic!john price, fluff to smut, praise kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, masturbation, (light?) breeding kink, phone sex, spit as lube

A/N: so here’s the anticipated civilian!reader fic! I’m just a simp for this man being a husband or anything domestic about him. Enjoy!!! ;)

You were exhausted from work; feet swollen from being in heels all day, muscles tense and eyes burning with the desperate need to be closed and drifted to sleep. You were on your way home but weren’t too eager to get there, if you were being honest.

Your home felt cold and empty despite your best efforts to make it a cozy abode for you and John. But it was hard to feel the slightest bit of warmth in it whenever he was deployed. He had been gone for months now, you had lost count of how many since every day that passed without him felt like an eternity.

You two tried to keep in contact as much as possible. He called you nearly every day, as best he could; sometimes the calls would last seconds other times you managed to get half an hour with him to vent and catch up.

You felt bad every time you complained about your day, though, since he was in quite literally a battlefield most of his time. But he insisted you told him everything, he loved hearing you complain about mundane things, hearing about what shitty thing your boss did, or about your coworker’s crummy love life. It made him feel closer to you and gave him a sense of home to listen to you talk about your day.

When John would say things like “I miss you, love, I’ll be home in no time” or “I can’t wait to kiss that pretty face”, you couldn’t help but feel a fire kindling in your chest. It made you feel warm inside to hear him say that because you knew it was true; John wasn’t a man who lied, he carried his heart on his sleeve for you.

And when he wasn’t being tender and sweet, telling you how much he missed you and loved you, he’d let you know how desperate and needy he was for you. He’d tell you how the sound of your voice alone made his cock twitch in his pants. How the hand that wasn’t holding the phone had slid down his trousers, slowly stroking himself through his boxers.

You’d press your thighs together, listening to his husky voice become almost a whisper on the phone. His breath audible through the phone, letting out soft needy whimpers and promises about what he’d do to you the second he got home. You’d let yourself indulge and return the favor to him by telling him how you were wearing whatever lacy panties he’d bought you and how you were writhing in your shared bed as you pleasured yourself to the sound of his voice.

Still, those steamy calls between the two of you could only do so much for you. It only momentarily veered the loneliness away. You wanted him in your bed with you, wanted to have him watch football games on the couch, wanted to have date nights with him every Friday again, wanted his presence to warm up your flat and make it a home.

Once you got home the sun had already set. You took the stairs up to your and John’s shared flat, and with a sigh of relief, you pushed the door open. You walked in and closed the door behind you, dropped your keys on the tablet at your entryway, and stepped out of your shoes. Your feet touched the cold floor under you and the sensation drew another content sigh out of you.

You noticed the light in your kitchen was turned on. Maybe you left it on this morning after making breakfast without noticing, you were in a rush after all. As you approached the kitchen you heard the sound of something sizzling in a pan. Your heart skipped a beat, a smile creeping on your face at the realization that John was home. When you saw him there, standing in front of the stove with his back to you, you were filled with glee. Your stomach fluttered like it did the first time you two met when you bumped into him at that bookstore and almost spilled coffee all over him. When you first locked eyes with his, those glimmering blue pools.

He glanced over his shoulder and flashed you a smile before turning back to whatever he was cooking so diligently.

“Welcome home, hun” he greeted “‘m makin’ us dinner since I knew you’d be beat from work”

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Your lips pressed against the muscles on his back, peppering kisses on the center of his spine, his shoulders, the nape of his neck. Your arms travelled up the front of his body, feeling the muscles on his chest and abdomen shift as he moved his hands whilst he cooked. You hugged him tightly, squeezing him as if to make sure he was really standing in front of you. As if the tighter you squeezed the more he materialized in your apartment.

“Not too tight, love, you’re squeezin’ the wind outta me,” he chuckled.

“I just missed you so much, John,” you confessed with another tender kiss to his back.

He hummed in acknowledgment with a smile still stuck to his face. He plated the meal for both of you; salmon and stir fried veggies. You released your arms from him painstakingly and grabbed a couple of wine glasses to pair with your meal. John took your plates to the couch while you brought the wine.

You collapsed down on the couch beside John, releasing another heavy sigh as your muscles sank on the plush material. John had set the plates on your coffee table along with the glasses, and handed you a fork whilst encouraging you with a gentle chuckle and a “Eat up, love.”

You sat up on the couch, turning to look at him. Both of your hands rose up to him and cupped his face lovingly. You looked deeply into his eyes; those eyes that always sucked you in, made you feel safe and loved. He looked at you with so much adoration, like he was silently telling you how happy he was to see you, be home with you. You leaned forward and clashed your lips with his, not pulling back for a minute and savoring the sensation of his lips against yours, how his mustache and beard scratched your soft skin. The two of you held your breath as you held each other with your lips, feeling as if pulling back was not an option. When you finally released each other, you sighed, your foreheads leaning against each other as you rubbed the tip of your nose against his.

“Missed you, hon,” he whispered, giving you another kiss, this one more chaste and playful than the prior one. His hand patted your knee, “C’mon, food’s gettin’ cold and I’m bloody starvin’. ”

You giggled as you both dug in. One of the things you missed the most about John was how well he cooked, his meals were hearty and comforting just like his presence. The two of you enjoyed your food as you caught up with him on everything you hadn’t mentioned in your calls these past few months. John spoke much less given the nature of his work, he much more enjoyed to listen to you, and he did so attentively.

At the end of your meal there was only the wine to sip on as you enjoyed each other’s company. The TV played quietly in the background. You were laying on the couch, your torso reclining on the arm rest as your feet sat on John’s lap next to you. He caressed the smooth skin of your legs with his big hands, gently squeezing the muscles on them every now and then. You nudged him with your foot, silently instructing him to keep up the massage. He took your foot in his hands, they engulfed him completely as he squeezed and rubbed them with his palms and thumbs. You winced at the feeling, making him stop and look at you.

“That alright?” He inquired, you gave him a nod in response.

“Just sore from standing all day”

“Let me take care of it” he grinned, his hands returning to work on your feet. His touch traveled up your leg, arriving at your calf, rubbing the tender muscle and eliciting a groan from you. John was enjoying the sounds he drew from you. His hands were getting more adventurous, sliding up past your knee and kneading at your thick thighs now. You gave him a grin and a cheeky look; he returned it.

“What’s crossing your dirty little mind, sweet girl?”

“Same thing as yours, hun”

His hands rubbed your thighs, putting pressure on them as he grabbed and massaged the bulks of muscle and flesh. You bit your lip as his hand wandered under your skirt. He was enjoying himself seeing your expressions shift and your cheeks flush red as he touched you. You reached one hand over to caress his forearm with your finger tips as he slid his hand further up your inner thigh, and your legs spread slightly as a quiet invitation.

“Needy girl,” he teased.

“C’mere already, John, will ya?” you quipped. John complied with your demand, as if waiting to hear you say it, like he needed your permission. He shifted on the couch, moving the leg in his hands to his other side so he could sit between your legs. He grabbed both of your thighs on each side, lightly sliding you down so you were flush with him. You could feel the bulge in his jeans pressing against your clothed heat. You teased him by rolling your hips against him a bit, to which he responded to with a groan and a squeeze to your thighs.

He bunched up your skirt to reveal your panties. His fingertips tracing the soft material over your hips and pelvis. Your hands rested on each side of your head as you watched him with lustful eyes. Now his hands were grazing over your mons, lowering to the crotch of your panties that was already saturated with your juices. His touch made you blush even more, you were embarrassed by how easily the man could make you wet, as if it was the first time he’s ever touched you.

“My girl’s so eager, look at how wet you are” he grinned, his voice low and sultry. He grabbed the hem of your panties and tugged them down, slowly sliding them past your legs and then discarding them. One of his hands palmed your exposed cunt. You wiggled your hips against it and let out a needy whimper.

“John, don’t tease me” you scolded him in a soft voice, more desperation than anything.

He hummed at your comment, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, while his other hand went back to massaging your thigh. He observed as his fingers worked between your folds, his eyes fixated on your glistening pussy. It made his mouth water at the sight of his fiancé being so needy for him, it made him think how much he really missed having you in his grasp. He placed his hand on your mons, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles around your yearning clit. It made you moan to finally feel his touch on your sensitive bud.

He cursed under his breath at the sound, his cock twitching eagerly in the confines of his jeans. You reached one of your hands to stroke him through the rough fabric, tracing the print of his dick.

“Please, John,” you begged “I want you already”

John chuckled, a hint of mischief behind it. “I know, love, I know…but let me take my time to enjoy you, yeah?”

You pouted but gave him an abiding nod. He took his hand off you, making you whimper and your clit pulsate at the loss. He shifted on the couch again, now kneeling in front of it as he pulled your legs again to face him. You were hanging off the edge of the couch in front of him with your legs draped over each of his shoulders, his face inches from your heat.

“Fuck, I missed this pretty pussy,” his breath fanned against your sensitive cunt, and you were so desperate for him to devour you already.

He stuck his tongue out and licked a stipe up your pussy, the taste of you making him moan and roll his eyes back. Your lips parted as you let out a sigh full of relief. Your hands pulled your skirt higher to watch him savor you. He lapped at your pussy, tongue flat licking from your hole to your clit. His hands gripped your thighs as they closed around his head. Your eyes would not break from the sight of him eating you out like it was his last meal on earth.

His lips closed around your swollen clit and sucked on it, making the muscles on your thighs twitch and a whimper fall from your lips. He alternated between encapsulating your clit in his mouth and licking tight circles over it with the pointed tip of his tongue. He was making you a mess of moans and whimpers as your hands clutched the material of your skirt.

He reached his arms under your thighs and over your pelvis; one splayed out and held you still while the other spread your lips apart, exposing your clit fully for him to once again abuse it with his mouth. His lips wrapped around it, sucking and tugging at the bundle of nerves, making your eyes roll back and your hands fly to his hair, releasing a moan with his name attached to it.

You received a moan into your pussy from him in return. He latched his mouth onto your clit, lips sucking and massaging it. His hands now gripped your hips, grinding them against his face as he clung his mouth onto your pussy.

You felt your orgasm pooling in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes were so far into the back of your skull you were seeing stars. Your mouth chanted John’s name loudly like a prayer for salvation, pleading him to let you cum.

He nodded his head in unison with your hips as he licked your pussy, tongue giving special attention to your clit. He whimpered into it in desperation to feel you cum all over his face.

“C’mon baby I know you’re close, be good and cum for me” he mumbled against your cunt, practically begging you.

The grip on his hair was unrelenting, your back arching off the couch and hips slamming into his mouth. Your orgasm surged within you, ready to erupt like a volcano of pleasure. You missed him so fucking much. He knew exactly how to please, always has. You rode his face as you came, your hot liquid leaking out of you and onto his face, coating his beard in it. You were twitching in his grip, your hips stilling and mouth agape as a choked out moan emerged from you.

John’s grip on your hips was literally bruising and you couldn’t be happier to have a reminder of his return home later. He slowed down, lapping at your vulva and kissing your soaked pussy, making sure to savor every bit of you.

He looked up at you, sitting straight up with your legs on his shoulders, his eyes gazing at you lovingly as you still panted and came off your high.

“You’re gonna give me one more, right love?” He said peppering sloppy kisses in your inner thigh. You nodded your head drunkenly. He reached up to your skirt, finally pulling it off you, as you worked on unbuttoning your blouse as best you could with your clumsy, shaky hands. But John was too impatient; he clutched the fabric and tore the buttons apart with ease like he was tearing a piece of paper. He chuckled at your surprised expression, he knew he’d get an earful from you later when you weren’t too hazy to scold him.

“I’ll get you a new one, sweetheart,” he said as his hands found your breasts, massaging them before unclipping your bra and tossing it away. He stood up in front of you now, your legs around his hips, and he took in the sight of his soon-to-be-wife all flustered and naked for him. That body he admired so much, that soft supple skin he loved to bite and caress, those perfect breasts and that pretty pussy that loved his cock so much.

He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged down his boxers, cock springing out free and swollen. The sight of it made your pussy flutter, ready to take him in finally. You were aching for him, already felt yourself aroused and ready for another orgasm from him.

He cupped your mouth in one of his hands, silently instructing you to spit on it for him, to which you complied. He brought the hand to his cock, pumping it a few times and lubricating it with the spit you provided for him. He aligned his fat tip with your entrance, slowly pushing it in at a burning pace. You moaned at the sensation, it had been too long since you had taken in John's impressive size and you were not as accustomed to it. You had almost forgotten how fucking good it felt to have his full length in you up to the hilt.

He cursed under his breath, "Fuckin' 'ell, love, I missed how good your pussy takes my cock", his hand briefly caressed your cheek when the base of his cock was flush against your pussy. His hands gripped under your thighs, his knees were on the edge of the couch and he folded you into a mating press position. His cock was buried impossibly deep inside of you, you could feel him in your cervix.

John began to move at a slow pace, his cock sliding in and out of you slowly, making obscene squelching noises that echoed throughout your apartment. "S'tight and wet f'me, darling", he mumbled. He gradually picked up the pace, his hands held onto the back of the couch while yours held your own legs up and open for him.

His pace became harsher and faster, pulling moans from the two of you. His balls slapped against your ass as he thrust into you, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix making you almost scream with pleasure.

"Ah, John..." you started, barely able to gather words to say as you looked at his face with wide eyes, your pupils blown, "J-John, you fuck me so good...I missed how good you fuck me"

Your words made him feral, making him pound into you. He watched your expression hungrily; lips parted shining with drool, cheeks bright red and burning, and your pretty eyes glossy with lust as they looked up at him.

"Fuck, baby, fuck..." he groaned as he leaned back, sitting up straight and grabbing your waist, slamming you against his cock as you held your legs open for him still "wanna see you with a big round belly under your pretty white dress... wanna fill you up with my cum, sweet girl"

He pressed a hand against your abdomen, "Feel that? y'like feelin' my cock inside you?" The pressure of his hand mixed with his words and relentless pounding made you mewl, your throat hoarse from all the noises John was drawing out of you.

"Y-yeah, John, feels s'good," you whimpered watching his dick bulge within you. You felt another orgasm surging like a wave in your stomach, your walls pulsated and clenched around John's throbbing cock. He felt you close, he knew you were about to cum when your cunt gripped his length relentlessly. He brought two fingers up to his mouth and wet them, then placed them on your pussy, rubbing circles rhythmically with every thrust.

"Cum for me, darling, cum around my cock," he said breathlessly, his eyes fixated on your face as he fucked you and rubbed your swollen bud.

You were euphoric, the overstimulation pushing you over the edge. A couple of more thrusts and attention to your clit and you were gone. Your legs twitched and your body convulsed as you came, gripping John's cock with your walls tightly. You cried out, tears streaming from your eyes.

It took everything in John to not let himself cum right then and there, the feeling of your walls constricting him almost pushed him over the edge with you. But he had other plans; he withdrew his cock from you briefly as he took you in his arm effortlessly, flipping the two of you around. You were shocked and puzzled at the quickness of it, now you were sitting on John's lap all fucked out and out of breath. He had you straddle him and you hold up yourself the best you could, with whatever strength your muscles had.

"J-John, please, I-I can't" you begged, holding onto him and already feeling his tip against your tender entrance again.

"Shh, s'alright, hon, you can do it, I know you can," he cooed, his lips against your ear as he slipped his cock back into you, "just can't get enough o' you"

He held you with one arm firmly around your waist and his other hand gripping your ass, his lips kissing your neck and coaxing you with praises and encouragement as he sunk you down on his cock. You moaned at the intrusion, you were so sensitive it was maddening. Your body was limp as you rested on him, arms lax around his shoulders.

You shut your eyes and let him fuck himself into you, letting him overtake your sense once again. He pounded up into you, holding you in place as his hips thrust up into your abused cunt. You were a mess of moans and whines as he chased his own high.

He was grunting and cursing under his breath, "My pretty fuckin' wife, my girl...takin' my cock so well...bein' a good girl lettin' me fuck you senseless." He was close, his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. He hoisted your body up, grabbing your hair to make you look at him. You were cockdrunk, out of your mind, but you felt a third orgasm about to hit you like a truck again. John admired your dazed expression, his blue eyes now black with pleasure, he panted exhaustedly and full of desperation to empty his balls in you, fill you up like he said.

He took your face in his hand and clashed your lips together, moaning into your mouth as his hips stilled and the sensation of his cum flooding your insides made you cum with him. Both of you moaning into each other's mouths, your cheeks once again saturated with more tears. You pulled away from each other, panting out of breath with your sweaty foreheads resting against each other. You felt John's hot cum travel out of you between your legs. The hand that gripped your hair now softened, patting the crown of your head and smoothing out your hair. He looked into your eyes, admiring your post-orgasm face, basking in your beauty and in the afterglow of his own orgasm.

You smiled at him breathlessly, exhaustion all over your expression, you kissed him once more, this time more tenderly, putting all the love for him that filled your heart into your kiss. You pulled away and cupped his face, the two of you held each other, sweaty bodies against each other.

"Welcome home, John."

A/N: y'all... i did not intend for this to be so long again!!! but if you loved it and made it this far, let me know!!! thnx for reading ;)

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