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comfortless · 9 months ago

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dog hybrid recruit König thots??

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. more loner x loner because it is a treat for me. fem (afab) reader. König is a man just with ears and a tail. vague smut.

He’s the one that was never picked.

So maybe you’re too busy for a puppy hybrid, but maybe you’re a bit too lonely for an empty apartment. You don’t have the space for a big, excitable dog. The cats and bunnies are in high demand, too, there’s no shot of you adopting one of the cute, softer things within your budget. So you settle for a dog. The only dog left at the shelter.

His papers state that he comes from Austria, aged twenty-five and never been put into an actual home before. He’s endured some rigorous military training: scenting, tracking, breaking down thick doors with only a shoulder and an efficient push. A hunter through and through. Then, following his merits: erratic, jumpy, impulsive, and more than a little aggressive.

This dog doesn’t growl, only bites.

The paper sits crumpled in your hands as you eye the dimly lit hallway to your left. Posters of information line the beige walls to either side, some with photos of proud kitties and dogs, hand-in-hand with their companions and cheery phrases printed above in a bright, yellow cursive.

If anything, those are the ones that give you the final push to adopt this unloved, discarded experimental soldier. He’s only been given this one very last chance before… You would rather not think of what comes if you’re to turn away and leave him to rot and wither here. It must have happened a dozen times already: ambitious families looking for a more intriguing addition only to lock eyes with this pitiful thing and shake their heads ‘no’ for him to be put on death row like this.

“He’s scary,” the clerk reminds you once you’re finally led down the hall to the tiny room your new pet— no, friend, must be kept in. It was easy to think of them as something else sometimes. Animal instincts as prevalent as their claws, teeth, and fuzzy little ears. But you didn’t need a pet, there were an abundance of shops for those. You needed a good soul to spill your guts to and maybe pet from time to time.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

The poor thing is locked away to fester in what more closely resembles a cell than anything resembling a home. A steel door with a thin, narrow gap in the middle like a peephole keeps him locked in tight. Peering through that narrow gap, you only then seem to realize just what an impulsive decision you’re making.

König is exactly what the clerk said, continues to say next to you as she searches for the correct key on the ring. He’s bigger than any other hybrid you’ve seen before, built narrow at the waist but broad and deadly where it matters most; arms like narrow trees and thighs larger than your head, all muscle and intimidation, even with the cute, perky ears peeking out of the top of his helmet. He was definitely used for guarding and killing, and how a man his stature could even begin to fail that was unknown to you. Not that it was necessary. At most, he may need to shoo a scuttling pest out of the front door and put away a dish or two.

When the door swings open, the clerk offers a hesitant nod before dismissing herself back down the hall, and you’re left stood with a pair of blue eyes locked directly onto you.

König assesses with a tilt of his head and a slow ascent to his feet. He’s clad in layers of black, an empty vest where magazines or grenades must have been in place prior. Hell if you knew. He should have been given a fresh change of clothes after being discharged and sent to this place. A proper bed, too, considering the only furniture in this barren place seemed to be a cot that could never hope to hold him.

If not for the swaying of his tail, you might even find yourself nervous, but he does well to try and look approachable, even greets you with a thickly accented tongue beneath that hood. A simple, “Hallo.”

“I’ve adopted you,” you explain, and it sounds ridiculous. You can’t just adopt a full-grown man. Maybe a puppy or some hybrid child, never a man better suited for a gladiator pit than a home. “I mean that… if you want to come home with me, you can.”

He gives you a huff, a burst of breath that pushes the hood out from his face and a near imperceptible roll of his eyes as a step is taken toward you. It must sound stupid, even to him, but the wiry tail at his back does not cease its wagging. No matter how stern the glimpses of his face seem to look and how alarming his size may be, he’s nothing but an eager pup it seemed.

“Richtig… Then let’s go.”

Life with your big soldier turns out to be remarkably easy.

The first few weeks are dedicated to stoking up some sort of bond and rationing out chores. Simple tasks to see how he adapts, and small rewards in the form of pets along the velvety fur of his ears and scratches beneath his chin. The walks with you seem to be his favorite and tend to be long, but he remains right at your side the entire way. The only barking to be heard comes from nosy passersby that warn you to keep your beast on a leash, but you let him be reasoning that it wouldn’t do you any good at all. Your strength was that of a tiny rabbit’s by comparison.

König is clean enough from his prior military training and does as you ask without complaint. Even things you don’t request, such as your laundry are taken care of before you ever even return from work. He’s overbearing on those evenings, when you’ve been apart and he sates himself drunk on the scent of your perfume still clinging to the collar of an old sweater. Excitable and sweet, though, when he curls at your side while some movie plays on the television screen.

It amazes you how easily he’s shifted from stiff to adoring in a matter of days, but it’s rare to have a moment to yourself now. The hybrid is insistent on pulling you up into his lap when you’re curled on the couch, or rushing behind to hoist you up and pin you between an expanse of chest and the kitchen counter with drooly licks against the side of your neck and cheek. Biting, too. You try your best to bully that out of him, flicking at his ears or shoving against his face, but there’s always a mark left behind.

When a coworker gives you a mischievous grin and asks if there’s a new man in your life at the sight of a purplish bruise against your throat, that is when you decide that a collar may actually be nice. Weave your fingers between leather and skin and give König a sharp tug when he gets too rowdy, maybe that would teach him. Spray bottles and warnings spoken through giggles just aren’t enough.

You find one that you think might fit at a shop specializing in hybrid needs. It’s thick and well-made, a black leather hold to match that big scary demeanor that he tries his best to uphold. The cutesy silver bell attached to it is just a bonus. At least you would hear him coming the next time he insisted on peppering you in kisses with his tail a blur behind him.

He greets you at the door as always, unlocks it for you and pulls it open before you ever even make it to the top of the landing. It’s cute how giddy he seems each day when you return, how he doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to you with his hands at his sides, his own silent request for a hug or some form of affection whilst staring down at you and mumbling a “hallo” like the most awkward gentleman in the entire world.

“I got you a present,” you excitedly tell him instead of blessing him with your usual embrace, lifting up the little gift bag with a smile.

When the collar is retrieved from the bag by a massive hand, König does not mirror your enthusiasm. Any light in the placid blue of his eyes seems to extinguish, smothered and fizzled out to pave way for a look of the purest disdain. He rolls the leather between both palms, only then regarding you with as a heavy sigh stirs up from his chest to whistle past the open mouth beneath the hood.

Maybe he would have preferred something with spikes. Something heavy and intimidating with a tag that read “FUCK YOU” in red, painted letters.

“I don’t wear collars,” he finally says, flatly.

Or maybe a muzzle would have been best…

“You do now, big guy,” you challenge with an airy laugh, slipping past him to cross into your home. Tidy as ever, he’s been working today it seemed. The bulb in the living room has been replaced, a few pieces of furniture rearranged. It all just looks… cozy. More habitable now that someone else lives here too.

König follows you inside with his head lowered and tail pushed between his thighs. The collar rests in one hand, fingers curled over it so tightly it almost seemed he wished the damned thing to dissipate into dust.

“Nein. I won’t wear it.” The door is locked behind him. It’s the first time he’s refused you anything. Even cleaning up around the kitchen wasn’t met with a rejection. It’s odd, almost uncharacteristic for him.

“I just thought…” You would want to be mine. Properly. With a nice symbol of it right around his neck, with a sturdy leash to lead him by, with…

Any thought in your head puffs into a plume of smoke back there behind your eyes when you feel two hands grasp at your shoulders, push you back towards the wall to hold you there. Hugging, lifting, cuddling up against, even licking… those things were commonplace. This was foreign and surprisingly rough; there’s no give to his hold, no room to even try to move away as his head lowers to stare you straight in the eyes.

“I killed my last handler.”

“Did you…?”

“Ja.”

That confession should have sent icy dread to the pit of your stomach, should have spurred you to claw and kick and bite. Surely the shelter would have known, could have warned you too. That would have spared you from looking like a terrified little rabbit now, yet a part of you knew it wouldn’t have changed a thing. König sort of… belonged here, as if written in some silly reading of the stars.

His ears flatten against his skull, large hands trembling where they hold you in place. The dam begins to crack as his eyes grow glassy, gaze far away in a concoction of pain and contemplation. He stares through you, not at, reliving something you dared not ask for an explanation for. The whys and hows die on your tongue.

And there’s nothing scary about him anymore.

There’s only a wounded soldier here.

A good boy.

Your hands rise to flip up the hood, rest it over the top of his head to cup his jaw in your palms, stroking over his cheeks with both thumbs to soothe and comfort. His unwinding comes immediate, hands slipping down to your lower back to pull you in closer.

You don’t apologize and neither does he. Everything just falls back into a comfortable lull, some fuzzy droning from both sides as you wish one another good night. He walks you to your bedroom door, the very best he can do to prove that he’s not some mutt with froth coming from his jaw. You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from encouraging that he sleep next to you.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?,” you tell him as you lean against the door in preparation to push it closed. “The very best there is.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tail behind him wags at a frantic pace from those words alone.

The following morning is different.

There’s food on the table and coffee already brewing by the time you cross from your room into the kitchen. The air bears the scent of sandalwood and geranium, a forgotten candle sat burning on the countertop. You eat your breakfast of too-sweet pancakes and prep your coffee to go all while the shower runs from somewhere down the hallway.

He usually waits, tells you goodbye before you’re off to work, bites at your neck and asks which will be better: a movie after dinner or some fresh air. Instead, there’s a note attached to the door. Something simple and mischievous, a scribbled, lopsided heart and some phrase in German written with handwriting so sloppy that there was no hope of your still sleep-addled mind translating it.

You chalk it up to him being fully adjusted in this new space, let him go about his business while you go about yours.

It would be a walk tonight.

Arriving home twists what is simply different into the realm of bizarre. No hugging by the door, it sits closed and untouched since you left this morning. You inhale something heavy, trepidation or maybe a bit of yearning there, while you fumble with your key in the lock. A click, a push, and then everything just changes. There’s no crashing and burning, only a very firm and insistent buzzing that rises to your chest, because the sight inside is just…

König.

Your König.

The hood has been discarded and set aside on the polished wood of a nearby table, the little bell collar sits right along his throat. It jingles when his ears perk and his tail begins that gentle sway, swishing with every step that you take into the apartment, rampant and unyielding when the sparkles in your eyes cluster like the tiniest, most insignificant stars.

No apologies, but this was something better.

“Gut?,” he asks you, kneels before you with the cutest stare that you’ve ever seen on a man. Constellations sit there waiting to be mapped, and your giant puppy waits for just a little praise.

You stroke his ears first, then dip your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“The best boy,” you tell him.

“I have a present for you too.”

No protest comes when he herds you out of the door, still in your stiff uniform with your hair a mess. The sun begins its setting out on the horizon, bathing the world in purple and gold. Trees with spring blossoms and wildflowers all abloom tinge the air in something sweet. It’s not your usual trail, and König doesn’t walk at your side this time, only ahead. You watch him fondly as he grazes his fingertips against the blooms hanging from branches just overhead, how he shies away from the curious nesting birds in bushes as to not startle them.

It isn’t the usual trail, but he walks it with confidence. There are no people out so late in the day, and apart from the occasional quip between the both of you, the setting only bears the sound of the chiming of his bell and a few night birds beginning to call. Peace morphs to something greater when the sun tucks itself away and sets the stage for a bright, waning moon. There’s a small clearing, a meadow cut straight through by the dirt path you walk, and only then are you pulled aside.

“Here,” he huffs against your chest when your back meets soft grass and a hazy, spring sky is painted out above you.

Maybe you’re not the best with men, but there have been signs.

So many in abundance that the pitiful squeak that leaves you when his nose finds its way up your skirt is only an embarrassment. König must have found it charming, reaches for both of your hands as he laps at your sex through the thin lace of your panties until your body grows tense and your nails leave little crescents on the backs of his hands.

The words don’t come, they don’t have to when he speaks them for you, little whispers and coos into your hair when any barrier between you is discarded with the descent of a zipper and the sound of tearing lace. There’s an outpouring of thanks in the form of a tiny, fragile, “I missed you.”

The night birds calling washes out each sound that escapes from either of you then, only outdone by the symphony of impact when König loses himself entirely to you. Limbs curling around narrow hips and a broad back, pools of blue so shimmery and pretty they outdo even the moon hanging above locked onto you. He doesn’t look away even as you try to bury your face into the width of his shoulder, only then guides you back down with a gentle hand and a muffled, needywhine.

“Good boy,” comes as a mere peep when he fully sheaths himself and laps at the corner of your mouth as you speak. The praise only causes him to still, pries the words from his panting mouth and reduces them to a series of pleasured, stuttering groans.

“What did the note say?,” you ask him in the silence that comes comfortable once the act is done, nestled into a pair of strong arms with a cheek pressed against an expanse of chest.

“Oh.” König laughs breathily, coming down from the height of both love and need.

“That you found home?,” you ask when he pets at your hair, twirls strands between his fingertips. “Because I think that I may have, too…”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, loosens his grip around your body for a mere second before pulling you in closer, tighter to him, as if letting go would end the world entirely. “Heaven.”

#könig x reader #konig x reader

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wileys-russo · 12 days ago

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santa's biggest fan II l.williamson

part of the mila-verse and a little belated christmas fic i never finished in time santa's biggest fan II l.williamson "okay mils, time for bed bubba!" you clapped your hands together when the movie finished, the end credits rolling and your wife heaving a sigh of relief as your daughter groaned.

"another one! i'm not tired." the small blonde demanded, curling even more into leah who smiled in amusement, but that dropped the moment you gave her a hard look of warning.

"bubba if you don't go to sleep, santa won't come!" the footballer whistled with a firm nod as mila looked up to her in shock. "he only comes when everyone is sleeping." you back her up with another nod.

"okay lets all go to bed come on!" mila announced, launching herself off the lounge and sprinting off in the direction of yours and leahs room.

"mila babe, mummy and i don't go to sleep yet. remember how we talked about grown up bedtime is different to kid bedtime?" you called after her, footsteps thundering back down the hall as you were grateful you didn't still live in the tiny upstairs apartment you and leah first moved into together years before mila was even a thought.

"then why can't i stay up with you? its a special night, mummy said so! that should mean special rules." mila huffed, bottom lip jutting out into an adorable pout as she stomped her foot.

"it is already an hour past your bedtime little miss, now go on jump into bed and we'll come in and read you a special story. right?" leah chimed in, mila shaking her head and with a resoundingly stubborn no! was off and racing around the house again as you and leah shared a knowing look.

"my love i have a feeling this is going to be a long night."

and safe to say you weren't a betting woman but you were right on the money with that predication.

"is she..." you whispered to your wife as she ever so slowly tip toed back into the living room with a quick nod and you exhaled in relief. "how many stories?" you asked with a slight smile of amusement, opening your arms as the blonde sank down into them with a huff.

"the same one, over and over, seven bloody times. i might just add in the murder of that hungry hungry caterpillar the next fucking time i read it!" leah grumbled into your neck, your body vibrating beneath her with a quiet laughter.

"its not funny! god why are kids like this? first it was that awful baby shark song, then it was that awful show about fruit and friendship or whatever, now its the same awful book on repeat!" leah whined as you merely smiled, hand slipping up her hoodie to scratch your nails gently up and down her back.

"kids just like repetition baby its safe for them, they know they won't be disappointed. almost like a defender i know who has had the same pregame routine for...what is it now? ten? eleven years?" you chuckled, leahs head whipping up to scowl down at you as her taller body hovered over yours.

"that is not the same thing!" she whisper yelled defensively as your smile widened into a grin.

"is too. or should we talk about the rotation of bland beige meals you rotate? our daughter has a more adventurous palette than you, at least she can handle some seasoning and colour!" you teased, poking your tongue out in response to her offended scoff.

"i will have you know-" your hand darted up to cover her mouth with a sharp shut up at her raised tone of voice, peeking your head up to glance over your wifes shoulder, sighing in relief when mila didn't appear.

"you know my girl there is another way you could shut me up thats much more pleasant for both of us." leah smirked once you'd removed your hand, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as you tried to bite back your smile, her arms planting themselves either side of your head.

"is that mistletoe?" leah frowned looking up at the ceiling but the moment you tried to glance up her mouth connected with yours, your fingers pinching her side. "you're unbelievable." you mumbled against her lips with a slight snicker.

"unbelievably sexy? oh baby, how you flatter me." leah gasped sarcastically, once again kissing you quickly before you could reply, settling herself comfortably on top of you as your tongues fought for dominance of the kiss.

but before anyone could win there was an interruption, leah falling off of you in shock and groaning as her back met the floor with a thump.

"i'm not tired and i can't sleep!" mila repeated, stomping her foot with a scowl that was a near mirror image of your wives from where she sat on the floor muttering about her tailbone.

with a deep sigh you sat up, swinging yourself to push off the sofa and scooping up the tiny blonde, settling her on your hip. "well that's too bad mil, it is way past your bedtime!" you carried her back to her room, protests ringing out the entire time.

"story!" the girl demanded as you tucked her back into bed, sighing again and reaching for the book already sat on the bedside table, making yourself comfortable in the armchair by your daughters bed.

"in the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf..."

"-then he nibbled a hole in the cocoon, pushed his way out and-" "-and he was a beautiful butterfly!" your daughter finished excitedly, clapping her hands and nowhere near close to sleep as you exhaled tiredly and snapped the book shut.

"right i've read this three times now and you're a big girl right bubba? well big girls go to sleep when they're supposed to. so you and gunner-" you paused to adjust the little dinosaur plushie held tightly in your daughters grasp.

"-are going to lay here very quietly together, until you fall asleep. or else no santa! you want santa to come visit right mils?" you ran a hand through her mess of blonde hair as she nodded eagerly.

"mama!" her hand grabbed a fistful of your hoodie as you stood and ducked down to kiss her forehead. "yes baby?" you sighed with a small smile.

"cuddles till i fall asleep? pwease?" the four year old pouted, hitting you with the puppy dog eyes she knew worked like a charm on the pair of you most of the time.

"don't do that mil, you know how to do your L's properly." you warned with a look. "please! please, please, please, please-" mila begged as you sighed, seemingly more tired than she was at this rate and knowing the later she stayed up the later you and leah had to stay up to sort out her presents.

"okay! okay okay. but just for a little while, yeah?" you gave in, gently tugging her hands off you and moving to flick the big light in her room off, leaving only the small red arsenal nightlight illuminating a pathway to her door.

"bubba no-" you tried as you laid down beside her, the four year old climbing basically on top of you, her gunnasaurus plushie squished against your cheek as you exhaled, not bothered for the argument.

one hand moving to tangle in her hair your fingers moved rhythmically against her scalp, feeling her limbs ragdoll as her body became that little bit heavier, her breathing evening out against your collarbone.

you waited a few more minutes until you were sure she was properly asleep before very very carefully moving her back into bed, wincing as you struggled to detatch her arms which seemed to be locked around your neck.

though you didn't make it two steps towards the door before she awoke again, tiredly sitting up and wiping her eyes as you exhaled with a shake of your head.

"mama no! more cuddles." "no more cuddles bubba, time to go to sleep. mama will sit by the door for five minutes until you sleep again, okay?" you bargained quietly, your daughter seeming to accept that with a nod as she sank back down in bed right as you sat down on the floor.

five minutes passed though again as you tried to leave her voice rang out for you to stay and you sank back down to the floor with a frustrated sigh, gently encouraging her to lay down and try to sleep.

ten more minutes and you managed to crawl out of the room without interruption, leaving her door open ajar and returning the living room where your wife was still sat up awake, now bundled beneath a blanket.

"come here." the defender smiled knowingly, moving the blanket and adjusting to give you some room to sit between her legs, patting the sofa encouragingly.

though your ass had barely made contact before it sounded again, now both you and leah groaning quietly.

"mama! mummy! i had a bad dream!"

"she's down?" you asked hopefully, now sat comfortably beneath the blanket leah once was, your wife tag teaming to go and lay down with your daughter a half an hour ago, only now emerging.

"for the count." leah confirmed with a tired nod, taking a seat beside you and wiggling beneath the blanket, grabbing your legs and moving them to rest on her lap.

"shit its nearly midnight!" leah realised with a huff, tapping her phone and seeing the time as you hummed, your head resting on her shoulder. "she's a night owl like her mummy!" you teased, patting leahs chest who flicked your ear playfully.

"god i love this movie." you hummed happily, the two of you having been watching bits and pieces of the holiday as you took turns popping in and out of your daughters bedroom to try and get her to succumb to sleep so the pair of you could play santa.

and as your movie finished and there'd been no sight of mila for at least forty minutes now, you readied yourself to do just that, the presents all neatly stacked in your bedroom as leah counted quietly to make sure everything was accounted for.

"-so the bike stays here from us, and the new predator boots go out from santa." leah rolled her eyes at that making you grin, alessia having insisted her goddaughter grew up on predators boots instead of phantoms, something which had driven leah up the wall from the very moment the topic was raised, both you and your best friend adidas athletes while she was with nike.

"i'll go check she's asleep and grab the stocking off her bed, mrs claus." you winked, stealing a kiss from the grumpy blonde whose eyes rolled.

you'd grown up doing christmas a little differently from your wife, the stocking always sat on the foot of your bed rather than hung in the living room, a tradition you'd carried on through your daughter much to leahs protests it made everything ten times harder.

and tonight unfortunately, you were about to find out she was very very right.

you ever so carefully pushed open your daughters door, sticking your head in and surveying the room. "santa?" you heard a tired voice call out groggily, quickly pulling your head back and swearing under your breath, waiting by the door for a moment to see if she'd get up.

but it would seem the small blonde was at least half asleep as no footsteps sounded, and you hurried back to the bedroom where leah was nowhere to be seen, found in the living room meticulously organising the presents beneath the tree.

"we've got a problem." you sighed as she looked up with a frown and an eyebrow raised questioningly. "she's awake still? seriously? its nearly two in the morning babe this is ridiculous!" leah whispered as your eyes rolled.

"sort of, she's not quite asleep but she's not fully awake. we could wait a little while longer?" you sighed tiredly, running a hand through your hair as leah pulled a face.

"you and i both know she's not sleeping past five in the morning babe, no matter when she falls asleep, and i need sleep to deal with our families all day!" leah whined, head thumping against the wall.

"what and i don't leah? we'll just wait ten minutes and i'll check again!" you warned, your wife too tired to protest as she nodded, joining you on the lounge a few moments later.

sure enough when you popped your head in a little while later mila appeared to be sleeping, not a peep heard as you waited a few seconds to be sure, though your breath hitched as she tossed and turned suddenly.

"she's restless, i'm worried she'll wake up." you sighed as you returned to your bedroom where leah was waiting. "you're joking yeah? it'll be fine! lets just get it over and done with." the defender scoffed bluntly, trying to stand from the bed as you pushed at her chest and sent her bouncing back down.

"leah. we are not ruining the magic of christmas for our four year old daughter who loves santa." you growled tiredly, giving her a dirty look before disappearing into the en-suite, rummaging around for something.

"well we're also not being held hostage by that four year old for another hour!" your wife growled right back as she popped up in the doorway. "correct. so, time for plan b!" you stood and leahs hardened face fell seeing what you held in your hands.

"oh absolutely the fuck not. i know what you're thinking babe and thats not happening!"

only a few minutes later, it was most definitely happening despite your wives ongoing grumbles and mumbles of protest as you carefully stuck the cotton wool balls to her face.

"this is fucking ridiculous!" leah grunted unhappily, scrunching her nose up as you finished the makeshift beard, the blonde clad in a matching red arsenal tracksuit with a couple of pillows stuffed up her jumper and a white scarf tied around her waist.

"babe i look like a bloody garden gnome not santa!" leah whined as she caught sight of herself in the mirror and winced, a red arsenal beanie with a funnel under it to create somewhat of a makeshift santa hat teetering precariously on her head.

"she won't notice in the dark if she wakes up leah. you'll just crawl in, try not to wake her, get the stocking. we fill it, you crawl in and put it very carefully back, and we're off to bed!" you recounted, shoving her out of your bedroom and toward your daughters.

"go santa go!" you whispered, hand colliding with her ass encouragingly as she jumped in surprise and turned to give you a filthy look.

"oi you better watch it, elf." the blonde pointed menacingly as your eyes rolled, hiding a smile as your wife dropped to her stomach, pushing mila's door open and very carefully commando crawling inside.

you felt as though you couldn't breathe until she returned, a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing as she crawled out again a moment later dragging the stocking with her.

"don't you dare laugh." the older girl muttered, hitting you in the face with the stocking as the air of you hurried to fill it with presents quickly as possible, your breath again stopped as leah began the crawl inside to put it back.

thankfully despite a few tired mumbles and a sleepy roll over that had leah dropping flat to the floor, her mission was successful and a very sudden burst of adrenaline filled her body as she crawled out and ever so carefully pulled the door shut with a soft click.

your own bedroom door closing you squealed as a body hurtled into yours, a few loose cotton balls falling to hit you in the head as your back hit the mattress and your wife hovered over you with a cheeky grin and an all too familiar glint in her eyes.

"now i think santa deserves a little reward for all her hard hard work tonight my darling, don't you?"

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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hyacintho-surrexit · 2 years ago

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Exterior Wood New York An illustration of a sizable traditional beige, two-story wood exterior house with a hip roof

#beige exterior #stacked stone walls #wood shake siding #shingle roof #bay windows #hip roof

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lightseoul · 2 months ago

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CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.8k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up

a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.

Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.

You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.

Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.

Even if it means looking like this.

You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.

With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.

Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?

You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.

Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.

His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.

“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.

“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”

And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”

He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.

And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.

“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”

At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.

Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.

“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”

That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”

And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?

You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”

To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”

Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”

Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.

Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.

“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.

“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.

You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.

The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”

The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.

Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.

Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.

And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.

Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.

“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.

After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.

The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.

Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Sorry,” you offer meekly.

He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”

You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”

“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”

You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.

You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.

Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.

For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?

“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”

If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.

And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.

Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.

You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.

“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”

You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.

“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”

Well.

That’s not exactly comforting.

Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.

A strip club.

You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.

“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.

You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.

And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”

“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”

“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”

To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”

You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.

“The f—”

“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”

To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”

The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.

Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.

“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”

“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.

“But, sir—”

“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.

The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.

You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.

Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.

Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.

He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.

“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.

And so you do.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.

But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.

And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.

Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.

It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.

You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.

Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.

Or maybe ��woman’ is a bit too generous…

It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.

And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.

There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.

But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.

“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”

“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”

Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”

“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.

You decide against it.

To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”

At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.

“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”

“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”

And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.

“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”

“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”

“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”

“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”

“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”

“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.

Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.

Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.

You brace yourself with bated breath.

He flashes you a modest smile.

“It’s a deal, then.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses | @junehasnotbeenfound @sugalarity @haechansbbg @sikuthealien @reiniella3 @ita606 @xoxoblueyy @mutsu422 @eyesforbkg @kalulakunundrum @venus-xxoo @lemuhr @pinkpantheris @ashers-playpen @bakugouswh0r3 @certaindreampost @3ve88 @tsumuus @4acoffee @anonymity-222 @lousypotatoes | @matchat3a @harryzcherry @h0nestly-though @cc1306 @gold24fish @bakukags @zennypiee @wannabewolf @kameko-ko @lovra974 @arc6021 @kooromin @surprisemodafakas @ilovedenk-i @st4ntwic3 @j1tterbugaboo @call-memissbrightside @arael-asuka @bakugosgothhoe

#btw just a friendly reminder to pls be nice esp when asking to be included in the tag list!#maintaining it is quite taxing and it doesn't help when people are not exactly kind about it and/or disappear entirely after requesting :')#depending on how high-maintenance it gets i might scrap it tho #anw pls enjoy this chapter! i worked hard on this <3 #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n

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aquadios · 2 months ago

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drunk in love : yang jungwon

wc est. 07k genre best friends to lovers

a sigh escapes your lips for the umpteenth time as you drum your fingers against the steering wheel of your cold car. you’ve been sitting in the parking lot of a busy restaurant waiting for your best friend to appear, given the frantic texts from his friends saying he was too drunk to function.

finally, his figure emerges from the restaurant, stumbling on his feet as his friends try to keep him up straight. you frowned—jungwon wasn’t one to indulge himself in drinks—definitely not when his friends were heavy drinkers themselves.

“oh, jungwon,” you shake your head while keeping your eyes on the blonde. he was smiling and giggling about something, but his gaze was trained in on your car and as he got closer, he found himself walking faster.

although you had expected him to be more intoxicated, he found his way around your car and towards the window of the drivers side.

“you came for me,” jungwon leans in once you roll the window all the way down. “been here for an hour actually.” you smile softly.

jungwon tilts his head, his newly dyed hair falls to the side and he smells like whiskey. to you, your best friend was undeniably beautiful—everyone knew that—but if felt wrong for you to think those things.

jungwon was a friend to you, always has been; however, recently, your heart has been telling your brain something else. mixed signals seemed to be the only feelings you could conjure up about yang jungwon. he was a confusing boy and those confusing actions were reflecting the light you saw him in.

the once beige colors you’ve seen him in began to morph into explosions of red and blue and pink and any other color you could think of. he was turning your life into a splattered painting.

and it’s terrifying.

“ah, i’m sorry baby. you should’ve came in, i would’ve brought you a drink.” he leans his exhausted head against your car while closing his eyes.

you’re grateful he chose to close his eyes the second the heat from your nervous stomach ran up to your cheeks. “i need to drive you home jungwon, i’m not drinking.” you whisper, only because you’re afraid how hard your voice would give out.

“do you need help getting in the car? i can ask the guys, or i can help you myself—”

your words are cut short when jungwon’s hand weaves behind your head and jerks you forward, dangerously close to his own. your nose is brushing against his and you could smell the faint scent of his natural musk that isn’t overpowered by the alcohol.

“i was thinking about you while i was here,” his fingers that were entangled in your hair began to move you closer.

“i was thinking about how much i’ve wanted to kiss you,” if jungwon wasn’t holding onto your head, it would’ve blown off.

your chest heaved up and down as you try to find the words to say to him but nothing was coming out. your mind was going haywire as your heart was beating uncontrollably to the point it hurt.

he continued, “there’s been so many moments where i just wanted to kiss you but i was too scared i’d ruin everything,” he sighs and his intoxicated breath almost has you under the same spell.

“you wouldn’t ruin anything.” your voice is still a quiet whisper. “i can only do this when i’m drunk.” he knows he’s a coward for doing this when he wasn’t sober.

jungwon shakes his head before leaning into your lips. he tastes like bitter peaches and years of pining as he uses his other hand to cup your jaw.

if it hadn’t been for the door separating you two, jungwon would’ve pulled you insanely close to him until your hearts matched the miles they were racing.

when he pulls away, he leaves even more kisses against your lips like the alcohol wasn’t merely as intoxicating.

jungwon smiles and you reciprocate his with an even wider grin. “you finally did it!” heeseung yanks jungwon out of the window, shaking his entire body by his shoulders.

the boys gather around whilst yelling drunken hoots and praises as if he had just won a noble prize (to jungwon you’re worth more)

though, in the middle of the chaos, jungwon turns to you, his eyes showcase a string of emotions he’s never felt before and you’ve never seen. he’s sure it isn’t the alcohol streaming through his veins or the hugs he’s receiving, it’s you.

what’s better than being drunk? being in love.

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awjoffrey · 2 years ago

Photo

Traditional Exterior

#Example of a classic beige two-story vinyl exterior home design weathered siding #cedar shake #exterior #shingle siding

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peppermintquartz · 4 months ago

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The watch strap is worn out and stained on the inside. Buck takes note of it, and when Tommy's taking a shower, picks up the watch to see if there's an inscription anywhere.

Nothing. Just a regular watch.

But if Tommy has worn it to this state, then he probably really likes it.

Buck hums to himself, then takes a picture of it, front and back, with a dime for scale in case he needs it, and puts the watch back where Tommy left it.

They miss their dinner reservations the next week when Buck sees Tommy in a new shirt and decides that Tommy is not allowed to wear that shirt for more than five minutes.

He ends up gasping for breath under Tommy, his legs and arms shaking with exertion, and Tommy is no better, one thick arm wrapped about Buck's soft middle, biting marks into his shoulders.

After they both came - Buck first with a desperate wail, dragging Tommy after him with an equally desperate "Evan, god, Evan" - Buck is a limp puddle of satisfaction. His gaze falls to the side and he sees the bedside lamp, its shade faded to a nondescript beige. It's clean, because Tommy is on top of his housekeeping, but it's old.

"How long have you had that lamp?" he asks, his words slurring together while Tommy wipes him clean.

"I don't know. Since I left the army, I think? It works." The washcloth is tossed towards the laundry basket and Tommy mutters a happy "three points!" like the dork he is when it lands among the dirty clothes.

Buck turns his head and smiles at Tommy. "I love you."

"I love you too. So, frittata or ramen? I have some frozen shrimp dumplings I think." He kisses Buck on his forehead, like Buck didn't cause them to miss their dinner.

"Frittata and ramen," Buck says, because he knows he can get away with being spoiled for a while.

Tommy only chuckles fondly.

Buck stares at the matching lamp on the other side. Beige.

Tommy holds onto things, Buck discovers. DVDs, CDs, tools from his army pilot days, his high school football jersey. Not necessarily because of sentimental value. Because they still work.

But some things are old and breaking apart, like the clock in his living room, or the fan that's in the garage, or the ancient vacuum that chokes every five feet.

Like it doesn't occur to Tommy to buy a new and better one.

"It still works," Tommy says. His vacuum coughs. "It just needs a little tinkering. I'll make do."

When Buck gives Tommy new watch straps, Tommy just. Blinks. And then he smiles that soft, amazed smile, as if he can't believe Buck is real. Like he can't believe anyone will notice something so trivial about his stuff, and do something nice about it.

"Thanks," he says, and switches out the straps.

Buck buys white lampshades and paint, and he makes it a date for them to paint the two lampshades. Purples and blues, with a touch of pink. Buck jokes that it's his bisexual lighting. They're hideous, objectively speaking, but they were painted by them both, and Buck figures he can get better ones in the future when they're tired of these.

After they replace the old beige ones, Tommy rides Buck, lit only by the new bisexual lighting lampshades.

When Buck replaces the clock, the fan and the vacuum, Tommy helps to discard the old ones.

"You deserve nice things too," Buck tells Tommy when the latter sputters something about making do with the old stuff. Buck kisses him and repeats, "You deserve nice things too."

If he can keep bringing that slightly stunned and amazed and soft expression to Tommy's face, Buck will consider himself a good boyfriend.

#tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #tevan #pq writes

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toruro · 2 years ago

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— ✧ the cake in the back

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.

genre. smut, fluff

tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe

w/c. 3.8k+

a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day

"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.

mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.

"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"

the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.

"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"

"you already know it."

grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."

"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.

"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.

seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.

the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.

you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.

realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.

"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.

"new apron, huh?"

shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."

seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"

you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."

"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.

"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"

"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.

"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.

"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."

"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"

"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."

when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"

"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."

you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.

the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.

"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.

seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—

seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"

"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.

there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.

you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.

"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.

you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.

"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.

"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.

a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."

now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.

you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.

again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.

wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.

the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.

seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.

"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.

with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.

"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.

"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.

there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.

it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.

and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.

fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.

"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.

the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.

parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.

"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.

and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.

"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.

it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.

"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.

"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.

you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.

"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.

"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.

"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.

you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.

'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?

"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.

"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.

"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.

the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.

which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.

what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.

and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.

"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.

and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.

"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"

"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"

and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.

how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.

gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"

"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.

as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.

a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!

tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)

#seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #scoups smut #seventeen imagines #svt smut #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #📝 writing

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merakiui · 9 months ago

Text

angels in tibet.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, obsession, abo/omegaverse (alpha azul & omega reader), knotting, brief implications of breeding, mirror sex, sugar daddy, age gap (azul is 50 and reader is 24) note - while experiencing a nasty bout of low self-esteem, you fear azul has lost interest in you. on the contrary, he can't get enough.

I’m not sure about this…

You fidget in front of the horizontal mirror, tugging at the sheer material of your violet babydoll. It’s a beautiful piece, matched with a pair of dainty, crotchless panties, but there’s something about it that doesn’t fit right. Will this make you more irresistible? Were you irresistible to begin with? Maybe you’re worrying over nothing. Azul is a very handsome alpha, looking as affluent as he sounds and smells. It’s natural he would receive all kinds of compliments. Having attended dozens of dinner dates with him throughout the year, you’ve grown accustomed to the occasional interruption—an omega overwhelmed with his presence or an alpha hoping to gain another wealthy connection.

Compared to the exquisite company he keeps, you feel worthless—a speck of nothing versus a brilliant something.

A gentle knock at the door shakes you from your self-conscious spiraling. You pat yourself down to give your anxious hands a mindless task.

“J-Just a moment!”

“Is everything all right?”

You glance at yourself in the mirror once more. “Yes, I’m fine! I’ll be out in a second.”

“There’s no rush. Take your time.”

Steeling your nerves, you swallow razored insecurities and reach for the knob.

Stop thinking about it. Lots of omegas approach him all the time. It’s the same for alphas and betas. Sometimes they approach me, too. You crack the door open and nervously step out into the bedroom. But he looked so happy when that one omega was talking to him…

Azul’s cerulean hues snap up to view you from where he lounges on the end of bed loveseat. His stare trails up the length of your legs, assessing every inch of you as if you’re a rare gemstone and he’s a skillful lapidary. You cover the distance to reach him, suddenly shy.

He runs his hands up your arms once you’re within reach. “I was right to assume that set would look stunning on you.”

“You’re always right,” you say with a superficial giggle, admiring his dusky eyeshadow behind the lenses of his glasses. You swipe his hair aside and lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. “It’s nice. Thank you for the gift.”

Azul hums his acknowledgment. His hands crawl along your sides, grabbing at your hips. You allow yourself to be pulled down to his height, his thigh between your legs. Your bare pussy brushes against beige trousers, and it sends a pleasant shiver up your spine. His fingers dance across skin, searing in the same way his lips are when they ghost over the juncture between shoulder and neck. He licks and nips at the area for a moment before withdrawing slightly, his tongue free of the bitter, medicinal taste of suppressant gel.

“No blockers?”

“It’s fine. I’m with you, and my heat isn’t scheduled for another week.”

“What makes you think I won’t give into libertine impulse?”

At the sly implication that he’d mark you as his, you feel a fresh bout of slick pool between your legs, leaking out onto his thigh and wetting fine fabric. Azul notices this and chuckles.

“Y-You wouldn’t,” you manage through your embarrassment, shifting awkwardly.

“Is that right?”

“You probably want a better omega o-or a strong alpha. Someone like yourself.”

Azul, who had contented himself at your neck, pulls back to look at you. His hands settle upon your waist to hold you still—to prevent you from wriggling away.

“What makes you say that?”

“Nothing… I just assumed—well, you’re…you. I’m me.”

He frowns, easily reading between the lines. “Do you find yourself undesirable?”

“You’re popular. Rich. Good-looking… You could have anyone you want.”

“Variety means nothing if it doesn’t include my favorites.”

“I’m your favorite?”

“Such disbelief… Is it really so surreal?”

“But I’m nowhere near your level.”

“Who said you had to be?” Azul takes your hand and brings it to his lips. He kisses the top of it. “You’re perfect as you are, mio tesoro.”

You spend a long minute watching him. He can’t really mean that. Azul isn’t your boyfriend or your alpha. He’s the parody of one—a sugar daddy who spoils you with luxurious trips and hefty allowances, and in return you offer your time, companionship, and body. Tonight is no different. Just another dinner as per the arrangement. Another night spent in a high-rise hotel. Another transaction.

“You don’t mean that,” you say, ice crystallizing each word. “You’re just saying that.”

“I have no reason to lie.” He glances past you at the tall floor mirror, an idea sparking in lust-lidded eyes. “I’ll prove it.”

His intentions are lost on you, even more so when he moves you off of his leg and onto the cushions below. You sit with your back against the bed, a concoction of curiosity and caution bubbling within you. You can smell him, crisp like a new car, the musky, unforgettable scent of salt and sage. Before you can ask, he lowers to his knees and parts your legs to get a look at your dripping pussy.

“So eager…” he muses, his breath fanning across your folds. You bite back a whine. “And it’s all for me.”

“All yours. Always yours.”

Another wave of alpha arousal blankets the room, thick like smoke. You realize he’s done away with his scent blockers for tonight. Could that explain your territorial jealousy and dampened mood? Is it because it’s bothersome to think that another omega expressed so much desire towards Azul—that they were treated to his enticing smell even though it’s a luxury often reserved for you? Is it really his money you’re after or something grander?

You want to think it’s the former.

It must be, right? There’s no way it could be the latter. You’re just caught between fantasy and reality, bordering a beautiful illusion garnished with the impossible.

Azul’s fingers dig into the soft pudge of your inner thighs, spreading them further despite your weak attempt to shut them. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Don’t hide from me, principessa. It’s nothing I haven’t seen already.”

“Still…” You flinch when he presses the pads of his fingers against your slit.

“What’s the matter?” He lifts his hand for you to see. Your slick clings to his digits in dewy strands. “You’re so wet for me, and yet you seem…distracted.”

“It’s nothing. I’m thinking.”

“About?” When you refuse to answer, he leans in to lick a languid stripe up your cunt. You slacken against the bed, a gasp rattling through your lungs. Azul makes a dramatic show of licking his lips clean. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me, bambolina.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, worrying your lip between your teeth, as you debate your next admission. Rather than say it outright, you tiptoe around it with a shaky mumbling: “D-Do you usually call other omegas by pretty names?”

“Just you.”

“Just me?”

“Have I not been unfalteringly faithful to you all this time?”

“You have. I’m just wondering…”

Azul waits for you to finish that sentence. When it becomes obvious you’ve lost it, he fills in the blanks. “I thought of you all throughout tonight’s dinner. So much it nearly spoiled my appetite.”

Unconvinced, you crack your eyes open to glimpse him. His head is between your legs, lips centimeters from your cunt, and it leaves you wilting once more. He looks good on his knees in his fancy suit. You wish he was yours.

What a dangerous wish.

Azul meets your stare. He removes his glasses and hands them off to you.

“Be a dear and hold these for me.”

“Looks like a new pair.”

“I thought I’d try circular frames again. What do you think? Fitting, no?”

“Very fitting. Like an old man.”

Azul’s grip on your thighs tightens ever so slightly. His voice comes out sharp and strained when he speaks next. “Is that so? I assure you I’m still plenty youthful.”

“You age like wine, Mr. Ashengrotto. The finest kind.”

“And your beauty is timeless.”

“You say it so easily, but do you mean it?”

“Most ardently.”

Your argument is stifled when he leans in to taste you again. This time, rather than retreat, he remains between your legs. His lips are warm and soft against your pussy, his tongue all too tempting as it trails over the area. A startled gasp slips past parted lips when he pushes in, and it isn’t long until you’re deflating against the bed.

Your doubtful thoughts are temporarily silenced, numbed with slow, slothful salacity. You grab fistfuls of his hair, tugging it tousled, and he groans in response to your harsh treatment.

“Ooh… Mmh, fuck…” You blink up at the ceiling, breathless.

Too good.

You push him closer to your crotch, to which he rewards you with a sloppy slurp of your slick. The obscenity of it all has you hot and aching, and you submit bonelessly to the bliss he provides as if you’re simply drifting down a calm river. Azul laps at your folds like a man parched. He hums his appreciative delight, each vibration shaking you to your core, and the sensations only serve to triple your pleasure when one of his hands slides over to find your clit. He tweaks it between two fingers just to listen to you come undone.

It takes everything in you not to crush him between your thighs. Although with how hungrily he fucks you with his tongue, you think he might enjoy the suffocation. He sets a sweet pace, one that has you grinding down against his mouth in a desperate attempt to reach your climax. You open your mouth to beg for more, but all that tumbles free are shaky gasps and low groans.

As if sensing your unspoken need, Azul draws his tongue out. A thin strand of saliva strings from your pussy and his lips, connecting both for a fraction. Just when you think he might’ve finished, he swaps his tongue for two fingers. They stretch you open while he nurses on your clit. Slowly, like he has all the time in the world in this opulent hotel room, he curls his slim digits inside you. They press against your walls, searching for the spongy spot that will have you seeing galaxies. Once more, you’re reduced to a foggy-headed mess.

In this room, where nothing else matters, it’s just you and him. There is no outside world. No other alphas, omegas, or betas who might distract him. No other factors that might convince him to toss you aside, to grow tired of you, to abandon you…

Azul takes full advantage of your woozy state, pumping his fingers in and out. Paired with the way he lavishes your clit with attention, it sends you spiraling into a sudden orgasm. You grip his hair forcefully, pin him in place, and gush on his face with a strangled moan. He stays between your legs to lick you through it, running his tongue across your folds to gather as much of your slick as possible. And then he’s pulling away to offer you a boyish grin, seeming quite proud of himself. It adds deceptive youth to his weathered features.

Blinking pleasured tears away, you gaze at him until his figure gradually gains clarity. His face is wet, glistening with your essence, and it fills you with newfound heat.

“That was quicker than I expected,” he says, his voice a playful purr. “Were you anticipating this? Or perhaps my technique is simply unmatched. You’ve always been so sensitive for—”

You move without forethought, grabbing at the jewel-encrusted lapels of his fashionable jacket to yank him up to your height. His blue eyes are blown wide, his mouth parted in the middle of a mute question, when you smash your mouth against his. It’s short and sloppy. You taste yourself on his tongue.

“So impatient…”

Recovering from the momentary startle with newfound cupidity, Azul surges forward for a real kiss. You breathe him in and come away with a noseful of pheromones. It spins your mind dizzy, banishes rationality to dark, desolate corners, and renders you addicted. You allow him to lick into your mouth to taste expensive wine in every crevice. You’re avaricious in your approach when you pull him closer, desiring to feel his weight against yours. He falls on top of you, his hands placed on either side of your head to keep himself propped, and you peer up at him through glazed eyes. It brings you smug satisfaction when you reach between your bodies to feel his erection straining against his pants.

Breathing hot and heavy, you scrabble to grab hold of his shoulders. “Kiss me again.”

“Aren’t you forward? If I didn’t know any better, I’d hazard a guess that you’re jealous.”

“I—” you clamp your mouth shut, debating your words, before opening it again— “I am. I want you all to myself. I want you to look at me and only me during our dinners. I hate when other omegas talk to you… It’s not fair. Why do you have to be so amazing?”

Your confession catches him off guard, for he blinks at you owlishly. The surprise doesn’t remain for long, though, because he quickly composes himself. A gentle smile graces his face next.

“It’s mere courtesy. I assure you I’ve thought of you the entire evening.”

“Just me?”

“Only you. At every hour of the day. Even when we’re apart.” His hand slides down to interlace with yours, and he leans closer to kiss both of your cheeks, one at a time. “I think of nothing else. Si il mio universo.”

“R-Really? So that… That omega who spoke to you—”

“They were kind, but I have no interest.”

You frown, suddenly perturbed. “But you could’ve if you wanted to. We’re not together in that way. There’s nothing stopping you.”

He raises a brow. “Is that what you want?” Your face falls further into dismay and he chuckles. “I don’t mind. You’re allowed to be greedy around me. I’m all yours tonight.”

But I want you forever.

Azul helps you up from the bed and leads you over to the mirror. You stare at yourself—at the you adorned in fleeting finery—and grimace. Is this really you? Is this who you want to be, an unclaimed omega stuck in a stagnant situationship?

“Tell me what you see,” he whispers, running his hands along your sides.

“Myself.”

“Anything else?”

“She’s a fool who’s jealous for no reason. For a dumb reason, actually.”

“‘Dumb’?” He scoffs. “No such thing.”

“But it is! It’s because—” I want to be yours. “I’m just being immature. I’m sorry. It’s ruining the mood.”

“Not at all.” Azul grasps your chin and turns your head towards the mirror. “When I look at you, I see in color. You make my world so indescribably vivid. Very few can accomplish such an impressive feat. You should be proud.”

“Why?”

“You’re a smart girl. I’d have thought you would’ve realized it by now.”

You track his hand like it’s a spider you’re hellbent on catching. Carefully, with keen intent. He speaks in honey-coated hauteur, as if anyone could’ve deciphered the meaning in his declarations, and it would’ve irked you if not for your distracting thoughts.

He’s never told me any of this before. Is he saying it to placate me? Or does he actually mean it?

The answer is right there. You just don’t want to believe it.

Rather, you can’t. It’s impossible.

“For the record, I disagree with all of this negative self-talk. You’re not dumb or immature. Not in my eyes.” His arms close around you from behind, and he laces his hands together at your front. “You are a goddess cut from the rarest cloth. A beauty brighter than light itself, mia stellina. Sometimes I wonder if I should lock you in a little cage. That way you’d shine for me. Just me.”

Laughter squeezes through your teeth. “You’re being more dramatic than I am tonight.”

“You think so? I’m only telling you what I see and how I see it.” Azul takes your hand and guides you back towards the loveseat. He lowers onto it and then tugs you onto his lap. Just like before, he directs your attention ahead. “Why should I covet others when you’re right here?”

“That’s just convenient. It’s because we’re using each other.”

“How cold… And I have been nothing but authentic in my adoration.”

“Yeah, right. We both know—” You squeak when he shifts you only slightly so that he can unbuckle his leather belt. It slides away from his waist, soon discarded on the bed. “Sure, it’s authentic, but that’s because it has to be. B-Because it’s part of our deal.”

“Is that what you think? Your oblivious nature is most endearing.” He hums, half-listening. You roll your eyes at that, to which Azul tuts. “We’ll have none of that. Here. Since you’re so keen to argue, why not help me out of my jacket as you mull over your next retort?”

Unamused, you turn to face him. He looks awfully pleased with himself as he stretches his arms out. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you undo the single button and gently peel the coat away from his person. It’s so silky, crafted from a material you’ve never known before, and you take care folding it for later. Azul watches you with a smile.

“I’m not arguing.”

“Is that not what we’re doing right now?”

“I’m just saying…” You huff, your cheeks puffed out in annoyance. “Ugh. You’re being so obtuse.”

“Why don’t you turn around and say that to your reflection instead? She needs to hear it more than I do.”

Begrudgingly, you comply with the first instruction. You lift yourself off of him just enough so that he can pull himself from his clothes. As for that second part, you treat it like a suggestion and keep your lips clamped stubbornly shut. Azul rumbles with laughter, affectionately pinching your cheek. You think he may have picked the habit up from his family. He’s spoken about them scarcely, but from what you’ve learned both his mother and grandmother have always had a knack for physical fondness. It’s cute that this gesture seems to run in his blood.

“Eyes open and ahead, mia bella ragazza. You deserve to witness just how charming you are as you come undone around my cock.”

Nodding mutely, your arousal heady, you line yourself up until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. One hand holds your waist to steady you while the other presses against your clit. You whine, legs trembling in anticipation, and lower yourself slowly.

“A-Azul—”

“Don’t look anywhere else. Ahead, tesoro,” he reminds you, kissing along your jaw. He reaches to procure his glasses from the bed, fitting them on his face one-handed.

Your body responds to those pleasant pet names without a shred of shame. Even though this isn’t your first time with him, you can’t stop your breath from hitching or your heart from skipping. For the sake of an easily ingested excuse, you deign to blame it on your upcoming heat. Why else would you be this desperate to feel him inside, as close as he can possibly get pressed up against you like this? Azul’s hand slides over your thigh to rub at your clit, and your walls flutter around every inch you’ve managed to take thus far.

You remember you’re meant to be watching yourself in the mirror then, so you gaze at your reflection. Azul’s voice is deep and gravelly in your ear, thrumming like thunder, when he murmurs his praise: “Good girl. Just like that.”

As if to further humiliate you, a testament to just how carnally you crave him, you clench tighter around him and whine pitifully. He chuckles and rewards you with a soothing smooch to your cheek. You heave a satisfied sigh once he’s slotted inside.

“Why do you want me to watch myself?” you ask, fighting through the haze while he busies himself with your clit. “Mmh…”

At this rate, you fear you might just somersault into your heat. Which, now that you’re considering it, wouldn’t be such a bad thing… Maybe he’ll give you a claiming bite, mark you as his omega, and then it’ll be a real relationship. Maybe the heat is the push he needs.

Don’t think about that sort of nonsense. He would never…

“I want you to take in every part of yourself,” he explains matter-of-factly, “and know that I will never trade you for anything.”

“But other omegas—” The words are choked off in a yelp when he thrusts up inside you.

“Are not you,” he finishes, a minacious edge in his tone. “What must I do to prove to you that I’m telling the truth?”

“You could—ah. Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m being unreasonable.” You shake your head. “Just… Just promise me. Please promise you won’t get rid of me.”

“Why, I would never! The mere assumption that I would stings… I feel as if I’ve just been slapped.”

“I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just… I… I know you’re allowed to see other people—and I am, too, of course—but I like being the only omega you spoil. I like feeling special.”

“And you are.” He squeezes your clit to draw another reedy moan from you. His other hand crawls up your side to slip under your sheer babydoll. He cradles your breast, kneading it gently. “You’re my special girl. That will never change.”

“O-Okay… I believe you.” Your lashes flutter when his fingers brush against your nipple. “You… Ooh… You can cum inside tonight. It’s safe. I think…”

A shadow passes over his face. As if your words have stoked some sort of possessive fire in him, he slips his hand out from under your lingerie to grab at your hip. All of his previous smooth, sultry edges harden into something rough. Fingernails dig into your flesh, leaving little half-moons in the forceful wake of his grip. Your tongue trips over itself at the sudden shift, but the treatment isn’t terrible.

“You know very well I’d take good care of you if that happened,” he mumbles, kissing the space just below your ear.

“If what happened?” you ask, playing stupidly innocent even though the image reflected back at you makes his implication more than obvious.

“Why don’t you start moving first? Then you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

You shudder, drunk off his pheromones, so potent they cloud your brain like smog, and shift in his lap. He groans lowly at the friction and it encourages you to move with confidence. You lower yourself, lift yourself halfway off, and then lower again. This is executed for three more jerky rotations before you slam yourself down in one go. Azul sucks in a breath. You don’t quite catch what he says. It’s a jumble of words in his native tongue. With the harshness dripping from every syllable, you think he’s saying some colorful words, each one brought on by the tight hold your pussy has on his cock.

“Perfect,” he manages next. You continue to bounce with reckless abandon. “You’re so—oh—so perfect. Ho bisogno di te… B-Bisogno—ah, no, need.”

You watch yourself, your ravenous gaze flicking from your pussy stretched around his cock to his hands glued to your hips to his head bowed near your neck. His canines are so close. Any closer and he could tear into you, bite you hard and deep enough to make you his.

“W-What was that phrase you taught me? The one about—haa—love… Not love, but sorta love.”

“Mmh… Which one? There are many, principessa… You’ll have to be more specific. Ti amo is ‘I love you,’ but that’s—nngh—not the one you’re looking for, is it?”

“The not-quite-love one… Um—oh! Adore… Adoro…”

“Aah, ti adoro.” He pronounces it in a pleased hum before breaking off with another groan. He drags your hips down to meet his when he bucks up into your gummy pussy. “If you’re saying it platonically, you would use ti voglio bene. Ti adoro is more intimate.”

“It sounds pretty when you say it.”

“Of course it does,” he brags, his ego satiated. “Why don’t you try pronouncing it?”

“Which one?”

“Whichever.” Azul kisses your scent glands and you mewl, your thoughts soupy and incoherent. “With such a tempting smell, I’m baffled you’re not yet mated. Ah, but you’re still young.”

“Hmm… Yeah, I just haven’t found the right person.” You place your hands over his. “W-What about you? Why haven’t you—”

He tuts. “Now, now. Before we get into that, I’d like to hear you say it. Ti…”

“Adoro. Ti adoro!”

“That’s right. Ben fatto, mia cara. You say it so sweetly.”

“I do?”

“Mhm.” He noses at your neck and sighs. “Sweet and musical.”

Relishing in the compliment, you tilt your head to reveal more of your throat. You roll your hips slowly, taking him in patient strokes. “I still think it sounds better coming from you.”

“Perhaps I should say it more often.”

“Please. Oh, please do. I wanna hear it always—every day!”

His teeth scrape your skin then. You brace yourself for a bite that never comes. Rather than allow your unmet expectations to dishearten you, you focus your attention ahead.

“I’ll send you a voice message when we’re apart.” His hands travel up your body, beneath lacy lingerie, and finally close around your tits. You watch him in the mirror, following his movements as he shamelessly fondles and gropes. “And when we’re together like this I’ll say it over and over. As many times as you’d like.”

Now it’s clear. He’s placed you on his own pedestal, admiring you like one might a sculpture. You aren’t the omega from dinner. You aren’t those alphas who hunger for his status. You’re unlike any of his other connections. You’re a personal treat he indulges in, a prized portrait he’s free to touch at his own discretion, and you allow it because he’s unofficially yours behind closed doors.

Part of you knew this all along. You just couldn’t see through your self-doubt.

“Thank you. I love—” You catch yourself, stumble over a gasp, and thank the stars for that. “I love your voice.”

Azul’s aged features soften with a smile. “And I love yours all the same. Why don’t you touch yourself so that I can hear more of it?”

You do just that, obediently circling your clit with two fingers. Amidst your own sounds, Azul’s groans, and the loud smack of skin on skin, it’s enough to bring you even closer to the edge. You’re almost there, nearly teetering over into the abyss, but then you stop.

“Wait… I want—wanna look at you.”

“You are. The mirror—”

“Not enough.”

Wordlessly, you peel his hands away and lift yourself off of him. Azul stares at you, awaiting your next move. Before you can regret your spontaneity, you hold onto his shoulders and position yourself to straddle him on the loveseat.

“I read about this and wanted to try it,” you admit as you sink down. Your relieved sigh joins Azul’s in unison. “I like looking at you. The real you. Not just your reflection.”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

With this proximity, you’re free to gaze into his powdery blues, trace every wrinkle beneath your fingers, adore him so intimately. Azul presses his forehead to yours, meeting your sultry stare. He wraps his arms around your waist, his palms settling against your lower back. No words are exchanged, but the intention is clear. You rock your body like the rolling tide, effortless and hypnotic, and he matches your lazy pace with grace. Now you’re breathing together—soft huffs between moans—and it’s a lustful duet that pairs well with the salacious squelch of your bodies.

Even though this moment will inevitably end, you never want to leave. You want to stay wrapped up with him, pressed close and breathing him in like he’s perfume. You want to bathe in his scent until it mixes with yours and marks you as something special. Something irrefutable. A bond that can never be broken.

“I wanna go on a trip,” you mumble absentmindedly, your mouth inches from his.

He steals a quick peck. “Do elaborate.”

“Not just any trip. A honeymoon—like a pretend honeymoon! I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“Nothing is ever too much. If I may, why a honeymoon in particular?”

“I just wanna know what it feels like.” You melt against him, your arms sliding away from his shoulders to loop around his neck. “Without having to go through the marriage part. That involves actually finding someone and falling in love and…yeah.”

“I understand. We can plan something.” Twin sapphires flick from your lips to your eyes and then back. “Shall I make you Signora Ashengrotto for the duration of our faux honeymoon?”

Your hips almost stutter to a halt, and you blink back at him in surprise. “Signora… Wouldn’t it be signorina?”

“If you were unmarried, yes. It applies because you’re young.” He flashes his teeth at you in a proud grin. “But in this scenario you’re all mine, Mrs. Ashengrotto. Thus, you’re signora.”

“Mmh… I like that. The sound of it…”

You sigh dreamily and close what little distance is left. Softly like swaying seagrass, it’s a meeting of mutual moods—of lust embellished with love. The two of you kiss like you’re starved, like you’re each other’s only source of oxygen, like this is your last night together. You’re in the clouds; euphoria is at your fingertips. Every drag of his cock coaxes you closer and closer to your climax, your body alight with a fiery urge. You don’t want to break this sinful spell and face a reality in which he isn’t yours. It’s too cruel.

So it’s a shame when he pulls you down without warning and, rather than bite your neck, sinks his pointed canines into your shoulder instead. You would’ve been content to let him claim you, but that idea is soon knocked from your skull when you feel warm, thick cum flood your walls. You snuff the urge to beg for more, dangerously avaricious. You’re sure that’s just a product of your encroaching heat. The normal, level-headed you wouldn’t dare beg him for a baby.

But a baby would give him a reason to keep you around, wouldn’t it?

I shouldn’t. He probably doesn’t want a family at his age… It would be wrong to force it.

Azul pulls away only slightly to speak. His attempt is muffled when you kiss him again. You lick your blood from his lower lip. It’s strong and metallic, staining the corner of his mouth a deep vermillion. He pursues, nibbling at your lip in return. And then, just as you roll your hips once more, you feel it—his knot swelling against your ass, fat and thick. All for you.

“I’m going to—”

“Yes! Oh, please—yes.” You shift in his lap, grinding down with a desperate sort of determination. “Please knot me. I want it. I’ve always wanted it.”

“Always?”

Your head bobs in a hasty nod. It was more of a private fantasy—a mental indulgence you delighted in during dreams. And now it’s happening. You’re so happy you could cry. Azul, upon seeing the light in your eyes, bucks up towards you in a sharp, sudden thrust. You suck in a breath through grit teeth and bore down. The push is heavenly and hellish all at once, a delicious pleasure-pained strain as your slick walls stretch to accommodate him.

“Almost… You’re doing well, tesoro,” he grunts, his brows pinched together with concentration and exertion.

To provide you with an extra shred of help, he massages your clit. And that’s all it takes. The rest of his knot pops inside, now connecting the both of you, and it leaves you feeling much fuller than you were before. Ecstasy crashes into you like a tumultuous wave, pulling you into a rushing current. It seems to happen in a flash. Collapsing against him, you dig your nails into his shoulders, your cunt clenching like a vise, and cum around his cock with a bawdy cry.

You don’t notice tears wetting your face until he’s lapping at the trickling trails. Azul coos at you in a lilting voice. This one is different from the patronizing tone he uses when he’s being playful. This one is intensely fond. “Oh, che brava ragazza. Molto buono.” He holds your face still and kisses each cheek. The wet smack of his lips on your skin brings you back to yourself. He brightens when you finally lock eyes with him. “There she is. My sweet girl, you’ve done so well.”

His flowery flattery warms the stone hearth that is your heart.

“Don’t let go of me. Stay here,” you plead even though you know that won’t be for another few minutes. You’re stuck together, and with this comes the delirium of mellowed rapture.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He runs his hand along your back, soothed in the same way you currently are.

You rest your head against his shoulder and inhale deeply. “You smell so good… Why aren’t you mated yet? I’m sure your mate would be happy to have you as their own.”

“I would hope so.”

“I’d be happy…t-to have someone to call my own! I think it’s a wonderful thing.”

“As do I.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“I already have.” Something sly flickers in his gaze. It’s cold, creeping up your spine like a shadow. Without meaning to, you shiver. “And I’m not going to let her go. She’s always been mine. From the moment I met her, I was certain of this. She just can’t see it yet.”

You blink at him. His words play in loops, but you can’t comprehend his meaning.

Surely he’s not talking about…

You bark out a short laugh. “Stop messing around when we’re stuck together.”

“Aw. I thought it was plenty amusing.”

“Your sense of humor is so crooked!”

“Perhaps.” He pulls you flush against him and pets the bite on your shoulder. “My apologies for being so boorish.”

“Hm? Oh, that’s nothing. It’ll heal.”

“I do hope you feel better.”

“Ah, that… Sorry. I don’t know where my head was at earlier. Thanks for tonight, by the way. You’re too good to me.”

“I’d do anything for you. Never forget that.”

“What a scary sentiment…”

“Is that not a facet of love?”

“Depends. You don’t have to do everything for someone just to prove that you love them. And someone might not want that kind of love…”

“In the event of an unwilling spirit, I suppose the easiest solution is acceptance by way of entrapment.”

“What?”

“They say a room of glittering gold is still a cage even without the shackles. Perhaps there is no better love than the suffocating kind.”

“No way. That’s totally wrong!” You shake your head in amusement. “What a warped sort of love!”

“Is it? I’ve always believed this was most tangible—undeniable, even. Proof of one’s devotion.”

“That’s less romantic and more…obsessive. Don’t you think so?”

“There’s a phrase we sometimes say. Amore non è senza amaro.” You nod along, expecting the translation. But Azul merely smiles. “Well, I’m only saying such things to pass the time. Think nothing of it.”

“You really are an old man, speaking utter nonsense.”

“How you wound me with your slander!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Nonno,” you tease, winking.

Azul feigns hurt. “To think I would be called that at my young, young age… My heart crumbles.”

You smile. Maybe it really was nothing. Although I was sure that he… It’s not really my problem. We’re not even together.

Still, something is nagging at you. A heavy word despite being so little—merely three letters.

Yet.

We’re not even together yet.

Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

And yet, something tells you it’s not.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #n/sfw #tw: abo #tw: omegaverse #tw: knotting #tw: age gap

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oukabarsburgblr · 7 months ago

Text

drabble...

"Daisuke...wake up. You promised me you'd accompany me this time."

There were quiet noises of (m/n) whining while shaking a sleeping ravenette, the (h/c) kneeling beside the arranged thick futon in the dim room. "Mmm..." A groan escaped the ravenette's lips who rubbed his sleepy eyes, opening to see a pouting (h/c) over his face, possibly the greatest thing to wake up to in the mornings.

"...where's Haru?" "He's still asleep. I knew that bitch wouldn't wake up." "Sousuke?" "Like a log." A stifled laugh came from Daisuke as he groggily sat up, pinching (m/n)'s cheek. "I'm up, I'm up." He beckoned the (h/c) to stop sulking.

The four friends were on a glamping trip and (m/n) had a tradition to always explore the town nearby on the second day of the trip in the early morning, but almost every night before, they would play games or pull some random bullshit to tire themselves out so (m/n) was left alone most of the time.

Sousuke had been the solo driver of the trip yesterday so there was no point to waking his tired ass up, Haru was ignoring his pleas and Daisuke had promised him that he would wake up that morning to accompany his adventures.

Now here he finds himself, brushing his teeth and washing himself, getting ready to explore the nearby town. It wasn't remote nor rural, in fact the place was quite popular for tourists so he wasn't exactly surprised when he drove with (m/n) to find a huge shopping complex.

Daisuke wanted to laugh when he saw their outfits when (m/n) pulled out his shirt from his bags. They were matching to say the least, Daisuke Yuichi donned in a white polo shirt, beige khakis and a navy cap on top of his rich black hair. (m/n) (l/n) with a beige sweater, brown pants and a printed scarf tied around his head with strands of (h/c) nested snugly and a pair of sunglasses perched on top as well.

It looked like they were on a date. Well, Daisuke already considered that the second Sousuke wasn't waking up as (m/n) pulled him in further into the shopping mall. "Should I try this?" The (h/c) excitedly placed a maroon glasses into the frame of his face, checking himself out in the mirror. The brand of Emporio Armani, Daisuke's second favourite, etched into the side of the temple.

"Looks good on you. Let's take it." Daisuke shrugged, his hands crossed over his beefy chest, smiling at the (h/c) switching out sunglasses where his own was now on top of Daisuke's head. "You say that with every pair I picked." (m/n) rolled his eyes.

"Doesn't help you look good in everything." He called the attendant to pack three pairs of specs, all of them (m/n) had touched when he had walked into the store, mindlessly swiping his card when the (h/c) attempted to pay for himself.

"Thanks, Daisuke. I'll buy us lunch." "You know you won't." He smirked as the (h/c) smacked his back, muttering insults under his breath. (m/n) never paid for anything around the ravenette, Daisuke using his card his dad feeds money into weekly. There was a porter he had hired from the mall's services, quietly following them around carrying (m/n)'s purchases.

He was more than happy to spoil his prince, buying him luxurious gifts for his birthdays or giving into (m/n)'s spending habits, it won't ever leave a dent into his account anyways.

If Daisuke had looked a tad bit older, maybe more like his father, passerbys would've thought it was a sugar daddy-baby situationship, it was in fact just two close friends shopping together, one of which leaning into more than friends.

His large pale hand was on (m/n)'s lower back as they waited in line in a desserts store, the two making small talk with each other with the ever increasing bags on the porter's arms.

"You'd think they'd be up by now?" Daisuke shrugged again, not even thinking of anyone else whenever he's with the (h/c). "Doubt it. They wore themselves out pretty bad yesterday." "Didn't you suggested to do rock climbing when we got here?" (m/n) glared at the ravenette.

"Hey, not my fault Sousuke wanted to go up until the top." Frankly, it was actually Daisuke challenging the redhead to see who could climb the highest since Sousuke was fairly known to be more athletic than him and he had also been the one to drove them to the homestay.

Daisuke still lost, but he was currently alone, eating ice cream with his crush so who won at the end anyways. He bit into the green pistachio soft serve treat, relishing at the taste, although he had eaten better ones before. The ravenette wiped off a smudge of caramel from (m/n)'s lips before licking his own finger mindlessly, not noticing the flustered expression the (h/c) had for a split second.

The adorable headscarf was still around his head, Daisuke always liked how (m/n) was so versatile. "Wanna check out more stuff?" "It's already past noon, Haru's going to get mad at us." "We could stay a bit longer. Swarovski is just at the other end."

(m/n) eventually caved in and exited the retail store with a few boxes of fresh jewellery and a proud look on Daisuke's face who had bought similar pieces to the (h/c)'s. He tipped the porter handsomely before driving them to their homestay, a satisfied smile resting on his lips as he unconsciously placed a hand around (m/n)'s thigh.

The (h/c) was happy he got to spend religiously today, ignoring the hand around his leg as he checked himself out in the dashboard mirror, adjusting his new maroon specs. The grin on his face dropped as soon as he saw a certain redhead frowing, his arms crossed as he stood at the entry of the homestay.

"Think he's mad?" "I don't care either way." (m/n) groaned at Daisuke's response as they parked in the driveway, the ravenette nonchalantly exiting his side and went to retrieve their purchases at the trunk of the car. The (h/c) went up to Sousuke, trying to console him while the latter only glared at the ravenette who was ignoring him.

"You idiots, do you realise how long you've been out for..." Haru had finally joined the premise, pulling at (m/n)'s ear who yelled at him, saying it was his fault for not waking up as the blonde dragged him inside the house, ready to scold how they had abandoned them past lunch.

Sousuke who had always been the one to save (m/n) from Haru's merciless jabs, ignored the pleas and instead stood face to face with a certain ravenette, holding strings of shopping bags with a straight line on his lips.

"You didn't do anything, did you?" The redhead wasn't pissed but his tone indicated that he was. Maybe he was, just a tad bit jealous that Daisuke got to spend time with (m/n) for hours alone together. "Do what? We just went shopping, dumbass."

Daisuke rolled his eyes, kicking off his shoes as he walked past the steaming redhead. "Can't say we're not dating though. Matched a bit too well today." He teased Sousuke one last time before running inside. A pissed ex-delinquent chasing after him to murder the ravenette, not liking the implications he stated.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

This is canon to the Sousuke Daisuke universe idc. I mean all drabbles are canon except for the smutty ones. Consider them as fun fillers, a peek inside their intertwined lives. I love Daisuke haha. I think I had been giving Sousuke a lot more love lately.

Have i ever mentioned how much I love Lee Won? Never read the manhwa but he's such an icon haha

See ya!

Taglist :

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin

I keep forgetting abt the taglist😭 forgive me my loves

#oukabarsburg #x male reader #bottom male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #daisuke yuichi #oc x male reader #oc x reader #male oc

554 notes · View notes

yawnderu · 1 year ago

Text

K-9 — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Chapter I

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two

Simon Riley is crushing on an uninterested, tired medic.

''I don't mean to be rude, but I'm getting tired of seeing you here.'' Your blunt words are met with a quiet chuckle, the masked man looking up at you with pure amusement in his eyes.

'' 'M trying not to get injured, bird.'' Oh, but he isn't. He's actively getting injured just so he can drop by and get your help. It's stupid, really, how his obsession with you began. He thinks about the first time he saw you, standing right next to Price, an unamused expression as he went on and on about his team, telling you stories of their missions and time together and despite how bored you looked, your attention was solely on him.

He took that chance to look at you, to truly admire you, noticing the way you pull up your glasses every few minutes even when they're not sliding down your nose, the way your eyes were focused only on Price, paying attention to no one but him, legs crossed while sitting next to Price, your face resting on your hand.

''Clearly not trying hard enough.'' He can't help the way his cock twitches at your bored tone, the small frown on your lips just making him think how pretty you'd look with his cum all over your face— he shakes his head softly, trying to get his mind out of the gutter, focusing on the fast and professional work you're doing on his injured arm, pulling the skin back together with a beautifully done stitchwork.

''It's hard being out there.'' He tries to make conversation and all you can do is hum in acknowledgement, gaze focused on the way the needle digs into his skin, coming out of the other side just to be pulled back together with the thin, transparent thread.

''Y'know Gaz was hanging from a chopper by a bloody rope?'' He knows you're close to Gaz, he has seen you talk to him often, and so he tries to desperately make conversation again.

''Scared the shit out o' the old man.'' His efforts work as a small snicker escapes your lips, stopping working on his stitches as you collected yourself. You look up at him with an amused glint in your eyes, nodding your head. God, he has never seen something quite as beautiful.

''Cap told me about it. Poor guy had his whole waist bruised.'' You let out another small laugh before turning your attention back to the deep cut in his arm.

''If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're getting injured on purpose.'' His heart almost stops as your cold eyes look back up at his, an eyebrow raised, yet there's a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you notice his lack of response.

'' 'M not.'' Is all he can say, the knowing look you give him enough to make his blood boil, traveling all the way down to his throbbing cock, thankful for the black hoodie sprawled across his lap to prevent the blood from leaking into his jeans. You ignore all the... beige flags, knowing he's not stupid enough to actually get injured on purpose. You finish stitching him up, throwing away the tools used and the bloodied gloves.

''Keep the wound dry for 24 hours, if any of the stitches come off or the wound opens, come to me.'' You softly pat his shoulders, a small yawn escaping your lips as you look up at the clock on the wall; 0200.

''Tired?'' He asks sarcastically, earning him a way-too-hard pat on the shoulder. Simon woke you up at 2 in the morning, claiming his wound couldn't wait. It wasn't even as bad as he made it seem, though you appreciate your work with the TF141 more than you let on, so you decided to help him. It isn't the first time he wakes you up at outrageous hours, claiming to need help for things ranging from a pathetic paper cut to a gunshot wound. This time, his arm was the only thing affected, a cut big enough to need stitches.

''Very. Now get out.'' Your hand sneaks into the back of his uniform, tugging softly and he gets the message, standing up and allowing you to guide him out of your office like he's a child. He doesn't care if it's you.

''Goodnight, Simon.'' You can barely keep your eyes open and he feels a slight sense of guilt at keeping you up, knowing you'll have to be awake again in less than 3 hours.

''Night, Doc.''

[NEXT]

2K notes · View notes

fioredeciliego · 25 days 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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