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lynxgriffin · 3 months ago

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Eldritchrune - Chaos, Chaos

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Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

The Fun Gang arrives just in the nick of time for Kris, and with that added strength, Kris is able to overcome Jevil and get their reward. But there's still some questions left unanswered...

Aaaand here's the final part for the Jevil boss battle! Feels good to finally get this comic done, considering how long it took to get out! Work on others is still continuing in the meanwhile, but thanks so much for checking out this crazy secret boss battle scene!!

Alt text for this comic is under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Back outside the gyre, Kris rematerializes with a quick POP just below where Ralsei is standing. They land hard on their back, but they’re alive and whole again.

Panel 2 - Wider shot of Kris, Ralsei and Susie, now together again. Kris trembles and breathes heavily, curled up on a ball, while Ralsei hovers over them, and says “Thank goodness, I got here in time!” Susie looks on, snarling at the danger before them.

Panel 3 - Wide panel as the Fun Gang face down the enormous Jevil, who is continuing to spin around and around the bottomless pit. “The hell is THAT thing?!” Susie asks, her long hair blowing towards the gyre.

“A bound god! This must have been what Seam mentioned to you…” Ralsei says to Kris, who is still curled up beneath him.

Panel 4 - “But I’m not familiar with how to subdue this god!” Ralsei finishes, still hovering over Kris. Kris keeps staring back at Jevil, taking quick and shallow breaths as they try to grasp being alive again.

Panel 5 - Jevil continues to spin around wildly, and responds to Ralsei, “DEMON PRINCE, SEE, SEE? HOW THINGS TRULY BE OUTSIDE YOUR BOOKS, YOUR RULES!”

Page 2

Panel 1 - Kris manages to get back onto their feet, although they’re still trembling, and gripping at their shoulder where they just recently lost the arm. “I-if I can just reach the c-center…” they say, trying to get their strength back.

Ralsei works to steady Kris as they stand. “Courage, Kris! We’re here with you now!”

Panel 2 - Kris again faces down the spinning god, which grins back at them in anticipation.

Panel 3 - Closeup on Kris as determination sets into their face. They have an idea of what to do.

Panel 4 - Susie leans down, and Kris climbs up onto her back using her hair.

Panel 5 - Once situated on Susie, they raise their sword towards Jevil and give her the ACT command. Susie looks on, snarling and ready.

Panel 6 - Wider shot as Susie begins to carefully slide in closer to the spinning Jevil. The whirlwind is pulling them both in closer again. Ralsei stands by, watching cautiously.

Page 3

Panel 1 - The panels of the page curl around into a whirlwind movement as Susie and Kris slide in closer to Jevil.

Panel 2 - As Susie is almost up against Jevil’s orbit, she opens her jaws wide, revealing sharp teeth–

Panel 3 - And then snaps them down hard onto one of the large bone fingers as it spins by. She doesn’t bite through, but hangs on to the bone by her teeth.

Panel 4 - An overhead view as Susie and Kris are pulled along the edge of the whirlwind, with Susie hanging on by her teeth. However, they are now matching the speed that Jevil is spinning at.

Panel 5 - From Susie’s back, Kris now has a clear view of Jevil’s head at the center of the gyre. They ready their sword…

Panel 6 - Kris rears back, gripping the sword tight, clearly worried that something bad will happen again–

Panel 7 - A closeup on Kris’s armored feet as they make the leap from Susie’s back.

Page 4

Panel 1 - Very wide shot as Susie continues to hold on to Jevil’s scythe finger, dragged along his orbit. Jevil himself faces down Kris, who has jumped straight into the gyre, their sword raised to strike–

Panel 2 - Abstract black and white panel as the strike of something sharp hits its mark.

Panel 3 - A wide shot reveals that it is Kris who has struck home this time. They finish the leap across the bottomless pit with sword still in hand. Behind them, Jevil’s head has been severed from his body, and falls into the pit.

Panel 4 - Closeup on Jevil’s severed head as it falls. He doesn’t seem upset at all, but continues to grin wildly, letting out a laugh: “UUHHEE HEE HEEEEE!”

Panel 5 - Wide shot as Jevil’s spinning tent body begins to lose its balance. The spinning slows down, and the enormous hands begin to lose their standing and topple over. Ralsei watches the scene as Kris grips onto part of the tent body, hanging on during the collapse. Strange viscera begins to pour out of the severed neck, filling the pit below.

Panel 6 - Closer on Kris as they continue to hold on tight to the tent skin with one hand, and keep their sword gripped in the other. They watch the scene below them–

Page 5

Panel 1 - Reverse shot as Kris watches from above. Strange viscera pours out of the open wound and fills the pit below them: bones, skulls and entrails, animal heads and limbs, all mixed in with feathers, toys, cards, cake and candy.

Panel 2 - Closeup as the viscera finishes spilling out, one item comes to land on top of the pile: a strange, dark shard of what looks like black glass.

Panel 3 - Above the mess, Susie continues to grip onto the large bone as the spinning slowly comes to a stop. “Whuzzat fing?!” she asks, her mouth mostly busy holding onto Jevil.

Panel 4 - Closeup as Kris leans down and picks the shard of black glass off the top of the pile.

Panel 5 - Wider shot as Kris stands on top of the junk pile. They examine the glass in their hand carefully. “I’m not sure…”

Panel 6 - Kris looks up from the pile in shock and surprise as Jevil’s voice echoes around them: “WHAT FUN, FUN! SUCH A WONDROUS ROMP, I LOST MY HEAD!”

Panel 7 - Kris turns their head to see Jevil’s severed neck spring to life, and turn towards them. Inside the wound there is only blackness…and a face looking back at them. Just a simple face of pinpoint eyes and many wicked teeth, grinning in the black. “SUCH STRENGTH, LITTLE LOST HUMAN!” Jevil praises them.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Closeup on the new, prickly Jevil face peering at Kris from the black. “PERHAPS ONE DAY, HIS BLACK HAND WILL STRETCH FROM THE PIT AND TOUCH YOUR MIND, TOO!” Jevil says. The many teeth stretch into a grin. “THEN…THEN!...”

Panel 2 - Kris takes a cautious step back, and puts a hand back on their sword. “I’m not interested in any more of your freedoms.”

Panel 3 - Wide shot as Kris moves down the viscera pile, away from the face grinning at them still. They pocket the shard as watch Jevil warily. The face in the black replies, “PITY, PITY! BUT ALL THE BETTER FOR ME, ME! TAKE MY TREASURE, BRING CHAOS TO YOUR LITTLE TOWN, AND I’LL BE FREE!”

Panel 4 - Far outside the circle, Ralsei raises his hands to his mouth and calls out to Kris. “Kris Come on!”

Panel 5 - Kris begins a steady climb out of the pit, with Susie waiting for them above.

Panel 6 - Wider shot as Kris finishes climbing out of the sand trap, and grips onto Susie’s long hair for support. She grimaces and they climb back onto her shoulders.

Page 7

Panel 1 - Wider shot as Kris and Susie step away from where Jevil now lays collapsed in the sand pit, completely subdued. “What was THAT all about?” Susie asks. Kris continues to examine the black shard, and says, “I found this strange object. It came out of its body…”

Panel 2 - Downshot on Ralsei as he answers: “Oh Kris, wonderful! This battle wasn’t in vain…you got a shadow crystal!” In the foreground, Kris holds the shadow crystal carefully between their fingers.

Panel 3 - Shot of Kris on Susie’s back as they look warily at the crystal. They ask, “This is what Seam spoke of?”

Offscreen, Ralsei replies: “Yes! The bound gods of the Dark World carry shadow crystals!”

Panel 4 - Wide shot of the entire Fun Gang as Ralsei continues to explain: “We need as many as you can find…once you combine enough together, you can channel your soul through the crystal to open the Dark Fountain.” Kris continues to study the crystal, while Susie just looks up warily at the open space they’re in.

Page 8

Panel 1 - Kris looks down at Ralsei, and narrows their eyes in slight suspicion. “If I need these, why did you not mention this particular bound god to me?”

Panel 2 - Ralsei holds out his hands to Kris, and gives his explanation: “Well…some of them are more of a mystery to me. Especially when they spring from smaller creatures that have obtained godhood…they are hard to find, and even hard to defeat.”

Panel 3 - “I worry about what effect these gods may have on the state of your mind!” Ralsei finishes, looks up with concern at Kris. Kris watches him from the foreground.

Panel 4 - Focus on Kris as they flash back to not long ago, when their body was unraveling in Jevil’s gyre. They have a haunted look on their face.

Panel 5 - Closeup on Kris as they finally respond: “I am fine.” However, they hide much of their face, and they do not seem to actually be fine.

Panel 6 - Wider shot as the Fun Gang begins to slowly move away from Jevil. Susie continues to look towards the ceiling, and says, “Ugh, let’s just get out of here! Now we’re probably gonna need a rest before we face King, anyway.” Kris continues to hide their expression. Ralsei says, “Right! Kris, let’s get you out of this gloomy basement!”

Page 9

Panel 1 - Wide shot as the Fun Gang begin to slowly trek back up the sandy hill that Kris slid down in the first place. It’s going to be a long way back up. For a moment, they are silent, with Susie just kicking up sand behind her as she steadily treads uphill.

Panel 2 - Focus on Kris as they glance back at Ralsei, asking something else that has been on their mind. “Ralsei…who is this ‘he’ that the god kept talking about? With black hands?”

Panel 3 - Below Kris, Ralsei waves the question off, looking dismissive. “Oh, it’s clear that that god wasn’t in a sound state of mind…it could have been anyone.”

Panel 4 - Extremely wide panel as the Fun Gang makes their way back up the hill towards the single shaft of light where Kris first fell. All around them is just a thick, empty darkness. However, from the panel borders themselves, something like black fingers stretch out just at the edge of their perception.

“Nothing for you to worry about, Kris,” Ralsei says.

#lynx art #eldritchrune #deltarune au #kris #susie #ralsei #jevil #cw: dead animals #cw: entrails #and I thiiiink that's it? Not so bad as the first part honestly #Jevil gets his head lopped off but it's fine he enjoys it #Kris is definitely not damaged from this encounter nosiree!!

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finelinefae · 5 months ago

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friends [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: bambi meets harry's best friends.

word count: 8.8k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), drunk harry, shy reader, boyfriend!h

this is part 3 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Y/N was slowly but surely finding her rhythm at Pleasing. Thanks to Harry’s advice on making the most of each day (advice he apparently wrote a book about—though when Lindsey mentioned it, Harry had quickly shushed her and changed the subject), she had developed a solid morning and evening routine.

Her workdays at Pleasing fell on the busiest days of Harry’s schedule, which meant she was there three times a week. Those mornings began promptly at 7 a.m., with her clothes already laid out from the night before. After waking, she’d prepare breakfast for herself and her brothers, speaking to Harry on the phone as they went about their respective routines in separate homes. Once breakfast was done, she’d brush her teeth, do her makeup, and style her hair. By the time the school bus arrived to whisk her brothers away, her car would be rounding the corner to take her into the city.

Despite her hectic schedule, Y/N was managing to juggle her studies—though she couldn’t ignore that they were beginning to take a backseat. Lately, she’d found herself questioning whether she even wanted to continue her course. But with life moving at such a whirlwind pace, the thought of making a definitive decision felt overwhelming. For now, it was easier to just focus on the day-to-day.

To her surprise, Y/N was actually enjoying her job—something she’d never expected. She’d never been a fan of “adulting”; being forced to grow up quickly didn’t mean she had to like it. Paying bills, going to work, and worrying about the future had always felt like too much. But having a steady job offered her a rare sense of stability—one she appreciated more than she wanted to admit. It kept food on the table, gave her some consistency, and most importantly, brought her closer to Harry.

Keeping their relationship a secret, however, was proving to be a challenge. Surprisingly, Y/N was the more professional of the two, maintaining her composure in the workplace. She kept her hands to herself and avoided lingering glances, even when they were in the same room. Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as disciplined. He had a knack for initiating little interactions that straddled the line of propriety—always claiming they were “accidents.”

Like the time he held her hand just a second too long. Or the time he “accidentally” kissed her in the elevator right as the doors were opening. Then there was the incident during a meeting when, as she served tea, he tugged on the hem of her dress—apparently needing a refill.

Y/N couldn’t help but adore how infatuated he was, but she was determined to keep things professional. The last thing she wanted was for her coworkers to think she had an unfair advantage because of her relationship. Still, Harry’s innocent looks and playfulness made it hard to stay mad at him for long.

“I need to ask you something,” Harry said from his desk.

It was Wednesday evening and everyone had gone home. Harry had needed to catch up on some work so Y/N stayed behind after some convincing with the proposition he would drop her home afterwards. Y/N was sitting on the chair opposite, her notebook open and laptop screen. Her laptop was on its last legs, taking forever to load and lagging every five seconds but she could never afford a new one and having one was better than nothing.

“What’s wrong?” She looked up, wearing her glasses and face framed by wispy bits of loose hair that had escaped her messy bun.

Harry’s face brightened when she looked up at him. “C’mere, Bambi. Too far away.” He pushed himself away from his desk and gestured to his lap.

Y/N smiled and walked around the desk to sit in his lap. She straddled herself across his lap and wrapped both her arms around his neck, “Y’ smell good,” He murmurs, smelling her gingerbread cookie perfume even though it was Autumn, she was already excited for her favourite day of the year.

“What did you want to ask?” She pouted.

As if remembering he bought her over for a purpose, he continued, “This weekend, y’know you’re coming to stay the night?”

How could she forget? It was all she had been thinking about since he asked her. She had even bought brand new pyjamas with the remaining paycheck from her old job because her usual ones were worn and not as pretty. She had never been to a sleepover before let alone one with a man. She was’t sure what to expect but had seen movies where girls would sleepover and they’d paint each others nails and eat ice cream. She knew that wouldn’t be the case with Harry but she had made a list of other things they could do together that he’d enjoy too.

“I know,” Y/N nodded, brows furrowed as she waited for him to continue. Part of her couldn’t help but worry. Did he not want her to sleep over anymore?

"Some of my friends are having a dinner get together type thing," Harry said, his tone casual but hopeful. "I haven’t said I’ll go yet because I knew you were coming over, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to come with me?"

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "To the dinner party? With you?"

Harry smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Yeah, with me. Who else?"

She blinked, processing his words. "I’d be meeting your friends?" she asked cautiously. "Are you sure about that?"

"Why wouldn’t I be sure?" he replied, his brow lifting slightly.

"I don’t know, I just..." she trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to explain the nervous flutter in her chest.

"Ah, there y’go, Bambi," Harry smirked, leaning in just enough to make her cheeks burn. "Getting all flustered."

"I’m not flustered!" she protested, though the warmth in her face betrayed her.

Harry chuckled, his gaze warm and steady as it met hers. "It makes me happy, you know—thinking about introducing you to my friends. They were excited when I mentioned you."

"They were?" Y/N asked, her brows lifting in surprise.

"Mhm," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "They know it’s rare for me to bring someone I’m dating into the mix this early on." He leaned in, nuzzling against her neck and pressing a soft kiss to her skin. "So, will you come? We can head back to mine after."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay... but I don’t know if I have anything to wear."

Harry smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Y’know I can sort that," he teased.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed instantly, and she bit back a shy smile as his confidence and charm worked their usual magic.

. . .

Y/N glanced down at her suitcase, biting her lip. Did I overpack for one night? Probably. She always did.

Growing up, money had been tight, but once Y/N started earning her own at sixteen, she’d developed a habit of indulging herself. Not extravagantly—there were no designer handbags or flashy purchases—but enough to feel like she was treating herself after the grind of a day. Skincare, makeup, clothes—her modest earnings often vanished in the blink of an eye.

Fashion was her weakness. Her clothing rack groaned under the weight of her ever-expanding wardrobe, frequently collapsing as if protesting her relentless shopping habit. Packing for this overnight stay at Harry’s had been no exception. She’d started with a backpack, then upgraded to a duffle bag, only to realize that wouldn’t fit everything she might need. Now, her suitcase sat by the stairs, practically mocking her indecision.

“Whoa.” Sammy’s voice broke her thoughts as he sauntered into her room, a chocolate bar in hand. “Are you moving in?”

“No,” Y/N huffed, hands on her hips. “I just want to be prepared.”

Sammy raised an eyebrow. “You know, he could just stay here instead.”

Y/N stilled. The boy’s first night without her had everyone feeling uneasy, and she knew Sammy wasn’t looking forward to it. His gaze was guarded, but she could see the vulnerability underneath.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured, stepping closer. “It’s just one night. If you really hate it, we’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. “There’s going to be a day when you move out. And leave me. With Mom. Or... without her.”

The words hit harder than he intended. Y/N swallowed the lump forming in her throat, reaching out to him. She saw the sadness etched in his eyes, a reflection of her own fears. “Wherever I go, you go,” she whispered firmly.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Sammy leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Y/N held him close, closing her eyes for a moment before pulling away.

The sound of a knock at the front door jolted her. She glanced at the clock, muttering a quick, “That’s Harry,” as she rushed downstairs. She wanted to intercept him before Archie could get started—her little brother’s chatter had a way of turning quick visits into extended stays.

Yanking the door open, she froze. Harry stood there, a beaming smile lighting up his face despite the chill in the air. He wore a puffer jacket and shorts, his casual confidence making her heart skip.

“Hi, Harry,” she greeted, cheeks tinged pink, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or his presence. Without thinking, she leapt into his arms, her sock-clad feet barely touching the doorstep.

“Hi, Bambi,” he chuckled, steadying her as his arms closed around her. “Y’ready to go?”

“Mhm.” She pulled back, slipping on her shoes. “Let me say goodbye to the boys.”

Harry’s gaze shifted behind her, landing on the suitcase by the stairs. A laugh bubbled from him. “Are you planning on moving in?”

Y/N furrowed her brows, following his line of sight. When realization dawned, she flushed. “Oh, that. I, uh... didn’t know what I’d need.”

His grin softened as he stepped closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “S’alright, Bambi,” he murmured. “M’just excited to have you over.”

She smiled, her heart swelling as he leaned in for another kiss. Then, without missing a beat, he grabbed her suitcase and carried it effortlessly to the car.

After she had bid goodbye to her brother’s and promised them some much needed one on one time with them once she came back from Harry’s house, Y/N took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the next twenty four hours.

. . .

In the car to Harry’s apartment, Y/N sat in the passenger seat with one hand intertwined with Harry’s whilst he drove with his other. The radio played through the car speakers, avoiding complete silence on the journey. The dulcit tones of Marvin Gaye playing throughout.

“Y’ hands are freezing,” Harry said. Y/N instinctively tried to pull away as though her hand being cold was a bad thing but Harry clung tighter, raising both their hands and kissing her knuckles before blowing his warm breath over her hand. “Do you need me to up the heater?”

Y/N shook her head, “No it’s okay, my hands get cold when I’m nervous.” She confessed.

Harry frowned, “Nervous? Are you okay?”

Y/N cringed, “M a little worried about meeting your friends. What if they don’t like me?”

Harry gave her a comforting smile, “Bambi, they’re so excited to meet you. You have nothing to worry about. They’ve met other girls I’ve dated and trust me when I say you’re a walking angel in comparison to them.”

“H-Have you dated a lot of other girls?” Y/N felt awkward bringing it up but her curiosity was getting the better of her. Harry had only mentioned briefly of the other women he had dated. Of course he had dated other women, he was a successful, handsome millionaire with a fashion company. It would be pointless trying to deny it.

Harry thought for a moment like he was trying to think carefully about his response, “I’ll be honest, I used to date a lot of women when I first started making money. I wasn’t very good when I started getting attention from the press. I drank a lot and spent money on buying out nightclubs and bars for the night.”

Y/N was shocked. She tried to picture her Harry being the version of himself he spoke about. “But my company was no where near as successful as it is now so even though I was spending a lot, I was losing a lot too. I nearly went bankrupt at one point which really gave me a kick up the ass. My sister, she’s an accountant back home in England, she came to visit and helped me get my act together.”

“Oh wow,” Y/N didn’t really know what else to say. She couldn’t seem to envision her sweet, soft and wholesome Harry being a party animal and spening nights in bars for days on end.

“Did that put you off?” Y/N immediately shook her head.

“Of course not, we’ve all got things we’re not proud of.” Y/N replied.

Harry smiled, “What about you? Any psycho ex-boyfriends I need to worry about?”

Y/N laughed, “No lucky for you, I don’t think a single guy has ever taken interest in me.”

“I highly doubt that Bambi but you’re right, I am very lucky.” Harry flashed a cheeky grin, turning the wheel around the corner and stopped outside the tallest building she had ever seen that looked as though it was completely made of glass.

Y/N’s was unable to say anything when her eyes gazed up at the towering stack of apartments. “You live in this building?” Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off, her neck permanently craned to look up. She was pretty sure the hjgihest point of the building resided in the clouds.

Harry said nothing, parking his car in the private parking spot. He went to the back to grab her suitcase, Y/N stepping out of the car and walking around to meet him.

“C’mon Bambi,” Harry chuckled at her awe-struck expression.

They walked hand in hand through the lobby which looked as glamorous as you’d expect. Harry gave a nod to the security at the door as they went past and headed towards the elevator. Y/N’s eyes widened when his finger pressed the button for the top floor.

The doors to the elevator opened and Y/N thought she might actually pass out.

She stepped into Harry’s penthouse, her breath catching as her gaze swept over the space. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, all the people and cars down below looked like ants. The open layout was both elegant and inviting, with warm ambient lighting casting a golden glow over the neutral-toned furniture and rich wooden floors.

“Wow,” she whispered, taking a hesitant step further inside. The plush cream sofa, the sleek coffee table stacked with books, and the faint scent of vanilla in the air all felt so Harry—effortlessly stylish and welcoming.

Harry chuckled behind her, setting her suitcase by the door. “You like it?”

“Like it?” she breathed, turning to face him with wide eyes. “Harry, this is... incredible.”

He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “M’glad you think so. Wanted it to feel comfy, y’know? Somewhere I could actually relax.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes drifting back to the view. “Sometimes I forget how rich you are.”

Harry chuckles from behind her, “I’m actually very glad to hear that.”

She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands gently against the glass as she looked out at the city sprawling beneath them. For a moment, it felt like they were floating above it all, separate from the noise and chaos of the world below.

Harry joined her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “S’better with you here,” he murmured, his voice soft.

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest as she leant into him. Harry kissed her shoulder, turning her round to face him. He smiled when her eyes met his, “We have some time before we need to get ready, do you want to go unpack?”

“Oh of course, am I sleeping on the couch?” Harry furrowed his brows before bursting out laughing, water almost fell from his eyes. Y/N frowned, confused at his reaction.

“You don’t want to sleep in my room Bambi? With me?” Y/N’s cheek scorched red but Harry just continued to laugh, “I mean I’m happy to sleep on the couch and let you sleep in my room if that’s what would make you comfortable.”

“No, it’s okay! I was just messing around,” She was all flustered. The idea of sleeping in Harry’s bed with him hadn’t crossed her mind like it maybe should have.

“Are you sure? Y’ know I wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.” Y/N’s shoulders sunk at his sincere concern, she stood on her toes and kissed his lips. This time it was his turn to be surprised since it was rare for her to be the first to initiate a kiss between them.

“I know,” She smiled, “I want to sleep in your room… with you.”

Harry smiled, “Good. Let me give you a tour first.”

Harry led Y/N back toward the kitchen, still holding her hand as they strolled through the open-concept living area. “First stop: the kitchen,” he said, motioning grandly as they stepped into the sleek, modern space.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and a large island that looked like it had been plucked from a home design magazine. A trio of pendant lights hung above, casting a warm glow over the pristine surfaces.

“Wow,” she breathed, running her fingers along the smooth countertop. “This is amazing. Do you even use it?”

Harry grinned, leaning casually against the island. “I use it for takeout. Does that count?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know how anyone could resist cooking in here.”

“I can resist pretty easily, love,” he said with a smirk. “But if you ever fancy cooking together, I’m happy to assist. I’m great at stirring things and, uh… taste-testing.”

“Of course you are, no wonder you own a restaurant.” Y/N teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Harry chuckled, then nodded toward a door off to the side. “Alright, next stop: my office.”

He guided her through the door and into a smaller, cosier room that contrasted with the open, airy feel of the rest of the penthouse. The office was lined with dark wood shelves filled with books, a few framed photos, and scattered trinkets. A large desk sat in front of another set of floor-to-ceiling windows, the view just as stunning as the one in the living room.

“This is where I get most of my work done,” he said, walking over to the desk and leaning on it. “Or where I try to, anyway. Sometimes I just sit here and stare out at the city.”

Y/N wandered over to the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing the spines of the books. “It’s so… you,” she said softly, glancing at the little details—a framed photo of him with his family, a guitar pick sitting on a stack of papers, and a candle that smelled faintly of cedar.

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean messy?”

“No,” she said, laughing. “I mean it’s thoughtful. Personal.”

Harry’s smile softened, and he reached out to take her hand again. “Alright, enough of the boring office. Time to show you the best room in the house.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he led her back down the hallway to his bedroom. When he pushed open the door, her breath hitched.

The bedroom was even more stunning than she’d imagined. The centerpiece was a massive bed with crisp white linens that looked impossibly soft, surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture. The far wall was made entirely of glass, offering an unobstructed view of the glittering city below. Heavy curtains were drawn to the sides, framing the view like a painting.

Harry watched her take it all in, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s… incredible,” Y/N whispered, stepping into the room. She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands against the glass as she gazed out at the city. “I don’t think I’d ever sleep. I’d just stay up staring at this view.”

“Well, lucky for you,” Harry said, coming up behind her and resting his hands gently on her shoulders, “the bed is comfortable enough to make you forget about the view.”

She turned to look at him, her cheeks warming. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Harry grinned, his dimples on full display. “Challenge accepted, Bambi.”

He took her hand and led her to the bed, sitting down beside her. The mattress really did feel like a cloud as she sank into it.

“I was serious earlier,” Harry said, his tone softer now. “You can sleep wherever you want—the bed, the couch, the office chair if you’re feeling adventurous. I just want you to be comfortable.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. “I already told you, Harry. I want to sleep here. With you.”

His eyes lit up at her words, and he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that too.”

Harry stood up, “I’ll leave you to unpack. I’ve just go to make a few calls but there’s an ensuite bathroom you can use to freshen up.”

After Harry brought her suitcase to the bedroom, he left her to unpack. Y/N unzipped it and pulled out her washbag, heading into the ensuite bathroom.

The bathroom was stunning—a walk-in shower with dark tiles and jets built into the walls. She stepped to the sink, admiring the clean lines of the vanity, and placed her washbag carefully on the counter. She couldn’t help but smile when she noticed all of Harry’s skincare neatly organized in a cute little spinning container—it was such a contrast to her own chaotic setup. But then her eyes landed on the glass by the sink, where his toothbrush rested.

Beside it was a pink toothbrush.

Her heart softened at the sight, a warm flutter spreading through her chest. There was something about that simple detail that made her feel all warm and gooey inside. She’d never believed she would find someone she’d want to spend so much time with but here she was staying the night with Harry and about to meet his friends.

Y/N walked into the living room, where Harry was already sitting on the couch with his laptop perched on her lap. He smiled when he saw her, and then his gaze fell to the object she was holding. “Is that Monopoly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah, it’s the original version. I asked my brothers if I could bring it with me since we've had this set forever, and they would absolutely murder me if I lost any pieces. We have to be able to play it at Christmas."

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked in amusement. “Hmm, may I ask why you decided to bring Monopoly with you today?”

Y/N paused, clearly puzzled. “Isn’t that what people do at sleepovers? Play games?”

Harry’s grin spread wider. As she stepped closer, he reached out, pulling her toward him. She ended up collapsing onto his chest with a soft laugh.

“Oh, Bambi,” he murmured, showering her face with quick kisses. His lips tickled her skin, making her giggle uncontrollably. “You’re the most precious girl I’ve ever known, you know that?”

She smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed. “Does that mean you want to play?”

Harry gave a dramatic sigh, still grinning. “Of course! Are you kidding me? I love this game.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice playful. “Well, be prepared. I’m not one to brag, but I’m pretty good at it.”

His eyes lit up with challenge. “Oh, Bambi’s competitive, I see.”

A spark flickered in her eyes as she leaned in slightly, “Just a little.”

. . .

Harry loved discovering the many layers of his Bambi. To the outside world, she was shy and quiet, but to him, she was a multi-faceted woman, full of surprises he was peeling back one by one. Yet this afternoon might have revealed his favorite side of her yet.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement and mischief as she declared her victory in Monopoly—long before the game had officially ended. Harry had debated whether to let her win, as any gentleman might, but it turned out he didn’t need to. She was fiercely competitive and had wiped the floor with him in just thirty minutes.

If time had allowed, Harry would’ve played another round or concocted a new game just to watch her face light up with that same playful energy. The afternoon spent with her, laughing over a simple board game, had him envisioning Christmas mornings and holiday traditions for years to come. It was silly, perhaps, to think so far ahead so early in their relationship, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t picture a future without Bambi in it.

Still, as the game wrapped up, he could see her nerves creep back in. The mention of preparing to meet his friends made her retreat into herself, her earlier exuberance melting into quiet apprehension. Despite his reassurances, Harry knew she’d wrestle with her anxiety until the dinner was behind them.

His friends, on the other hand, were eager to meet her. Their group chat had been buzzing with excitement about “the girl who finally tied him down.” Since Harry’s family was back in England, his friends were the closest thing he had to family in LA, making their opinions matter. But he had no doubt they’d love her.

In the living room, Harry waited for Y/N to finish getting ready, dressed in his tailored dark suit with a relaxed fit. The loose white tank underneath, with its wide scoop neckline, subtly revealed his tattoos, and the Pleasing logo stitched at the hem added a personal touch. Cream-colored loafers and white socks completed the look, his short curls neatly styled to keep them from obscuring his face.

The click of the bedroom door snapped him from his thoughts. He rose from the sofa, as alert as a puppy hearing its owner return. When Y/N stepped out, the oxygen seemed to leave the room entirely.

Her dress was light pink, soft and flowing, with thin spaghetti straps and a V-shaped neckline that showcased her décolletage. The slightly sheer fabric hinted at her elegant curves, while the asymmetrical hemline added a whimsical touch. Her hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and her makeup was pink-toned and dewy, enhancing her natural glow. She paired the dress with strappy silver heels and a small, dainty bag dangling from her shoulder.

Her hand clung to her opposite arm, feeling vulnerable as she stood before him. Harry felt his breath hitch, his lips parting as he tried to absorb how breathtaking she looked.

“Bambi…” he managed, his voice low and reverent.

Her cheeks flushed. “Is it too much?” she asked softly.

Harry stepped closer, taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You look beautiful. I don’t even have the words to tell you how incredible you are.”

She ducked her head, shy like the deer he affectionately nicknamed her after. “Thank you. You look very handsome, too,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world.

“Do you like my dress?” she asked, her voice tentative.

Harry’s hands slid to her waist, feeling the soft fabric and the gentle curve of her silhouette. “I love it.”

“I made it,” she admitted, her blush deepening.

His brows lifted in surprise. “You did?”

She nodded, and Harry was awestruck. He’d seen her sketches before—ones she had reluctantly shared after he begged—but seeing her creations come to life was something else entirely.

Harry glanced at his watch, sighing reluctantly. “We should probably get going, but first…” He pulled out his phone, aiming it at the two of them. Y/N laughed, trying to push the camera away, but eventually relented, leaning in to kiss his cheek just as he snapped the photo. His grin widened, his eyes crinkling with joy.

Taking her hand, he asked, “Do you need a jacket?” His gaze flicked to her bare arms.

“I’ll be okay, as long as the bar has heating,” she replied with a small laugh.

Harry chuckled but grabbed a jacket on their way out anyway. He knew her well enough to anticipate the moment she’d get cold but wouldn’t say a word about it.

The drive to the bar felt like it took forever, thanks to the heavy city traffic. Harry’s hand remained warm on her thigh, and she wrapped her arm around his, seeking comfort from his touch. She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to stop.

“A little,” she confessed, glancing over at him. “I just want them to like me. I’ve never had to introduce myself to anyone’s friends before... I don’t want to mess up.”

“You’ll be fine, Bambi,” Harry reassured her, his voice calm as always. He’d said it so many times already, and she knew he’d say it dozens more if she needed to hear it. “Just be yourself. That’s all you need to be.”

Y/N wouldn’t say it out loud, but the age difference between her and Harry’s friends had been weighing on her mind all evening. The nine-year gap between her and Harry had never been an issue for them—it felt inconsequential when they were together. But his friends might see it differently.

What if they thought she was too young, too inexperienced, too… immature for someone like him? Worse, what if they assumed she was with him for his success, for the money he worked so hard to earn? The mere thought made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to be judged on circumstances she couldn’t change or assumptions she couldn’t dispel.

Harry’s friends meant a lot to him, and their approval—or lack of it—would sting far more than she cared to admit.

She nodded anyway, letting out a slow breath and turning her gaze to the window. The city lights blurred outside, their glow reflecting in her eyes. Even though his words helped calm her, she still couldn’t shake the nerves.

When they pulled up to the bar, the fancy building loomed in front of them. A valet was already waiting, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Harry always seemed to have the luxury treatment everywhere they went. It was a reminder of how different her world was from his, but she tried not to dwell on it.

As Harry stepped out of the car, Y/N noticed the photographers waiting outside. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still made her stomach tighten. Harry wasn’t a mega-celebrity, but he was well-known enough in the business world that the occasional paparazzi was inevitable.

Harry opened the door for her, his hand gently resting on her hip as he helped her out. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head, and it felt like both a reassurance for her and a subtle message to the photographers.

The bar was dimly lit and sophisticated with shiny tables and chairs with red upholstery. Live jazz music played as people chatted over glasses of wine that probably cost more than Y/N’s monthly wages had to offer. “Do you own this bar?” Y/N asked, clinging a little bit tighter to Harry’s hand.

Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Not this one,” he said, guiding Y/N toward a booth at the back of the bar. As they approached, the laughter of a group already seated at the table reached her ears. The sound was warm, familiar, like a group of people who had known each other for years.

A man with long brunette hair had his arm around a woman with similar dark hair that cascaded in waves down her shoulders. The two of them were laughing, their faces lit up in shared joy, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as they neared the group.

Before she could even take a deep breath, one of the men spotted them walking over. He had a rugged beard, and he stood up with a grin, his drink in hand.

“Harry!” he called out, extending his hand.

Harry gave him a knowing grin and shook his hand firmly, his other arm still wrapped around Y/N. “Mate,” he greeted warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

Y/N watched the exchange, trying to hide the anxious flutter in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she knew this was an important moment for her. She hadn’t met many of Harry’s close friends yet, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be a defining moment—how they reacted to her, how she’d fit in with this group that meant so much to him.

The man with the beard turned to Y/N, his eyes flickering with curiosity, and then he offered her a smile. “You must be Y/N,” he said, his tone warm and welcoming. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

Y/N smiled, a little relieved at the friendly tone in his voice. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too,” she replied, her nerves still there but starting to ease. “I’ve heard so much about you guys.”

Harry stood beside her, his hand still resting at the small of her back, offering her silent support as she navigated this new territory.

The man with the beard grinned as he stepped back, giving Y/N a moment to breathe. "This is Mitch," Harry said, gesturing to the man with long brunette hair who was seated next to a woman with equally dark hair. Mitch gave her a warm, easy smile, his arm casually wrapped around Sarah’s shoulders.

"It’s great to meet you, Y/N," Mitch said, his voice easy and friendly. "Harry’s told us all about you."

Y/N’s nerves eased a little more as Mitch’s friendly demeanor helped her feel at home. "I hope it’s all good things," she said, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

"Oh, definitely," Mitch replied, nudging Harry with his elbow and giving him a teasing grin.

Sarah, Mitch’s girlfriend, stood up from the booth with a bright smile, her waves of dark hair catching the light. She reached out to shake Y/N’s hand, her voice warm and welcoming. “Hi! I’m Sarah. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, but Sarah’s friendly tone immediately put her at ease. “Nice to meet you too,” she replied with a smile, trying to match Sarah’s warmth. "Harry's mentioned you guys a lot."

“Good things, I hope,” Sarah teased, winking as she sat back down beside Mitch.

Before Y/N could respond, a deep voice from the other side of the booth spoke up. “You must be Y/N,” a man with a thick beard said, “I’m Jamie.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Y/N smiled.

Jamie gave her a smile that seemed to take up half his face, his eyes twinkling with humor. "Harry’s been keeping us in the loop." He offered her a firm handshake, his grip warm. “It’s about time we met the girl who finally has him whipped.”

Finally, a woman sitting across from Jamie stood up, her presence immediately commanding attention. Alessia was striking—her short hair framed her face with confidence, and her posture was strong. She offered Y/N a small, warm smile. "I’m Alessia," she said, extending a hand. "It’s so good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Harry."

"Nice to meet you too," Y/N said, shaking her hand with a smile. There was something calming about Alessia’s assuredness that made Y/N feel at ease, even though she was a little more reserved than the others.

As Alessia returned to her seat, Harry’s hand still rested on Y/N’s back, a silent comfort in the midst of the introductions, as they sat in the booth next to Sarah and Mitch. His friends were exactly as he’d described—kind, welcoming, and playful. They were a perfect match for Harry and that bought a sense of relief to her.

“Can I get you a drink?” Harry murmured to Y/N, his hand gently brushing against hers as he leaned in.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She had never really drunk alcohol before—not because she didn’t want to, but simply because she never really went out drinking. Whenever she was out with her brothers, she always stuck to something safe like Coke or Sprite. She felt a little embarrassed to admit that she wasn’t sure what to order.

“Um…” She fumbled for words, feeling self-conscious. "I...I don't really know what to drink."

Harry’s smile softened, as if he understood right away. “Would you like me to pick something for you?”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. He wasn’t making her feel stupid. "Yes, please," she said gratefully, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

With a nod, Harry turned and motioned for the guys to follow him toward the bar. As they walked off, Y/N felt her nerves kick in again. She was left standing with Sarah and Alessia, the two women who already seemed so at ease with each other and the group.

Y/N suddenly felt a little out of her element. She wasn’t used to hanging out with other women in this kind of setting. With her brothers, everything was easy and casual, but this... this felt different. She was afraid that her awkwardness would be obvious, so she searched for something to say, anything to break the silence.

It didn’t take long for Sarah to sense her discomfort. She leaned forward with a welcoming smile. “Where’s your dress from? It’s gorgeous,” she asked, her voice light and friendly.

Y/N's face softened at the compliment, and she felt more at ease. “Oh, um, I actually made it,” she said, a little shy but proud. "I love fashion, so I’ve been sketching designs for a while."

Sarah’s eyes widened, impressed. “Wait, you made it? That’s amazing!” She looked at Y/N with genuine admiration. “It looks beautiful on you. I honestly thought it was something you bought from a high-end store.”

Y/N laughed softly, feeling a bit shy but happy with the compliment. “Thanks, that means a lot. I’ve kept a lot of my sketches in an old notebook, but I’ve always wanted to show them to someone.”

“I would love to see them sometime,” Sarah said enthusiastically. “I’m obsessed with fashion too. Maybe we can swap ideas sometime.”

Alessia, who had been listening with a smile, chimed in. “You’re really talented. I’m sure Harry’s lucky to have someone so creative around especially with his company.”

“Do you guys work in fashion too?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious about the two women she’d just met.

“Just Harry, I’m afraid,” Sarah replied with a playful smile. “We all went to art school, though. Mitch and I own an art gallery together, and Jamie runs a theatre company.”

“And I design album art for artists,” Alessia added, her voice warm and casual.

Y/N’s eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow. That’s so impressive. Is that how you all met? Through art school?”

“Yep, we were kind of the outcasts of our year group,” Sarah said with a chuckle, “so we stuck together. And look where we are now.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the closeness between the group. “That’s so cool. And... were you and Mitch together back then?”

“Oh no,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “Sarah and Mitch didn’t get together until after art school. It was excruciating to witness—those two pining over each other for four years and never doing anything about it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Alessia’s blunt description. “That sounds like a movie.”

“It kind of was,” Sarah said, laughing with her. “But it worked out in the end.”

“I bet Harry told you about us,” Alessia continued, leaning in a bit. “He told us he was bringing you tonight, and we were all nervous, actually.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Really? I was nervous too.”

“Are you kidding? After Harry’s last ‘girlfriend,’” Sarah said with a playful eye-roll, “we thought we’d be meeting some bitchy gold-digger who’d be all over him, trying to separate him from us. But then we met you, and it was like, thank God—you’re nothing like that. Honestly, we’re so relieved.”

“Harry talks about you non-stop,” Alessia added with a teasing grin. “For the last month and a half, it’s been ‘Y/N this, Y/N that,’ in our group chat. It’s kind of sweet, honestly.”

“Really?” Y/N blinked, her face softening with surprise.

Sarah smiled warmly. “Yeah, don’t worry, it’s nice to hear. He deserves someone who treats him right, you know? Especially after everything he’s done for all of us.”

Alessia nodded, her expression turning a little more serious. “He got me out of some serious debt. I was on the brink of losing everything, close to being homeless... but Harry stepped in. He rented me a place, helped me get back on my feet, and even called in a favor that landed me my first real job. He’s the most caring person I know.”

Y/N’s heart warmed at Alessia’s words. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard someone speak so highly of Harry, but it never failed to move her. Hearing it from his friends, people who had seen him at his best and worst, made her realise just how deeply Harry cared about the people in his life—and just how lucky she was to be part of it.

Soon Harry returned with the boys, sliding into the seat next to her. He placed a drink in front of her, “I got you an Aperol Spritz but if you don’t like it I can get you something else.” He told her.

“Thank you,” She beamed up at him and took a sip of her drink. It was light and bubbly with a slight bitter yet citrusy taste. The more she drank, the more she enjoyed the taste of it.

Harry continued conversing with his friends, and Y/N found herself enjoying the easy banter between them. It was nice to see this side of him—relaxed, almost boyish, and playful. The way his friends teased each other with such familiarity made her smile, and it felt like she was catching a glimpse of Harry’s world before she’d come into it.

She liked his friends. All of them were warm and welcoming, each with their own distinct personalities, but there was a genuine closeness that she could see. They kept her in the loop, filling in the gaps on things she might not have fully understood—like an inside joke or a shared memory—until she felt like she was beginning to grasp the dynamics between them.

Sarah and Alessia were especially attentive, constantly asking her questions and trying to learn everything about her. Y/N appreciated their curiosity and kindness. They didn’t make her feel like an outsider, instead showing genuine interest in her life and her background.

Every so often, Y/N would catch Harry looking down at her. He’d check in on her, his gaze soft, making sure she was okay and not feeling overwhelmed. His protective instincts were clear, and she was grateful for it. He didn’t hover, but whenever he could, he’d quietly reassure her with a small smile or a squeeze of her hand under the table.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Y/N felt like she wasn’t just another guest at the table—she was part of the conversation, part of the group. And it was easy to relax into that sense of belonging as the night wore on. Even though she was still a little out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t help but feel more at ease with every passing minute, especially with Harry so nearby.

She laughed at something Sarah had said, a light, genuine sound that felt more natural than she expected. The whole night had been surprisingly fun, and for once, she was enjoying being part of something so lively, instead of shrinking back.

“So Y/N, what’s Harry like as a boyfriend?” Jamie asked, causing Y/N to freeze in her seat.

Harry’s hand stilled from where it had been drawing invisible circles on her knee. The table seemed to pause, sensing the awkwardness in the air.

“That bad?” Jamie chuckled, trying to lighten the moment.

Y/N’s mind scrambled for the right words. She wasn’t sure how to describe their relationship—things were still new, and they had never really put a label on it beyond "dating." Her mouth felt dry as she fumbled for a response.

“U-um, we’re not— I don’t think—” Y/N stumbled, her face flushing. She didn’t know how to put it into words, not wanting to make things awkward or overthink it.

Before she could continue, Sarah quickly chimed in with a grin, “A better boyfriend than you.”

The entire table burst out laughing, and the tension in the air seemed to lift immediately. Jamie threw his hands up in mock defeat, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Alright, alright. I’ll take the loss. But I’m definitely curious now,” he said, leaning forward. “What makes Harry such a great boyfriend, then?”

Y/N glanced at Harry, meeting his eyes, which were filled with amusement but also a warmth that made her heart skip. "Yeah, Bambi, what am I like as a boyfriend?"

Her lips parted at the question. It was the first time he had referred to their relationship so openly, and the realisation hit her in a way that made her smile nervously.

“Well,” Y/N began, her voice softening as she relaxed, “he’s incredibly thoughtful. He’s always checking in on me, making sure I’m alright, and—he actually listens. He’s not the kind of guy who brushes off what I say or rushes through things. He’s really present.”

Harry’s hand slid over to hers under the table, his fingers intertwining with hers in a quiet show of support. He squeezed her hand gently, his gaze tender, saying everything without needing words.

“And he’s fun,” Y/N added with a light laugh, her nervousness easing. “He doesn’t take himself too seriously, which is honestly one of my favorite things about him.”

Harry’s smile deepened at her words, and there was something in the way he looked at her—like he was asking her a question without saying it aloud. “I love it… Being his girlfriend.” Y/N blushed but Harry’s face widened into a grin, one of his dimples appearing on his cheek.

The group exchanged knowing glances, clearly enjoying the moment. Alessia raised her glass, her eyes twinkling.

“To Y/N, we wish you all the luck in the world for having to put up with us.” she said, toasting her with a wink.

Everyone joined in, lifting their glasses, and Y/N felt her heart swell at the way Harry’s friends rallied around them.

. . .

Y/N hadn’t noticed how much Harry had had to drink until his head rested on her shoulder, in the middle of her conversing some more with Sarah and Alessia, “Think I want to go home Bambi,” He murmured. Y/N pushed his droopy curls back and saw the hazy look in his eye, a lazy smile on his lip, “So pretty,” His lips puckered as he spoke.

Y/N giggled, “How are we meant to get home silly, you drove us here.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry huffed, “I did didn’t I?”

Sarah chuckled, “We can drop you guys home on the way back to our place. We’ll just tell the valet to keep hold of his car. He can pick it up tomorrow as punishment.”

Y/N laughed softly, nodding her thanks to Sarah. "That sounds like a good plan," she said, looking down at Harry, whose cheek was now squished adorably against her shoulder. He was humming a tune she couldn’t quite place, the sound low and soothing despite his obvious tipsiness.

Harry’s hand found hers under the table, his fingers clumsily lacing through hers. “Y’ make me the happiest Bambi. ‘M so happy y’ m’ girlfriend.” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred but unmistakably earnest.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, her heart skipping a beat. “That’s a lot of happy,”

“It is isn’t it?” Harry laughs.

Sarah stood up, grabbing her bag. “Alright, let’s get you two lovebirds home.”

Y/N helped him to his feet. He wobbled slightly, leaning heavily against her. “You’re my favorite person ever, you know that?” he said as they made their way to the exit, his voice loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby tables.

“I think I’m starting to get the idea,” Y/N replied, her tone affectionate as she wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

“I’m hungry,” he announced loudly. “Can we get chips? Or pizza?”

“Let’s get you home first, superstar,” Mitch said, clapping him on the back and making Harry stumble slightly into Y/N.

“You’re my hero,” Harry murmured dramatically as they shuffled toward the car, his arm draped over her shoulder. “You saved me, Bambi. You’re the best.”

“You’re going to think otherwise when you see how many embarrassing photos Sarah and Alessia probably took tonight,” Y/N quipped, her laughter blending with the others’ as they piled into the car.

“Embarrassing?” Harry blinked at her, his expression mock-serious. “Never. I look good in all lighting.”

Y/N shook her head, letting out a laugh as Harry’s head found her shoulder once more. “We’ll see about that in the morning,” she said, her voice fond.

Harry let out a contented sigh. “You smell so nice,” he murmured sleepily.

Y/N giggled, smoothing her hand over his curls. “You’re ridiculous.”

As the car pulled away from the bar, Harry mumbled something about her being “too good for him” before trailing off into a soft snore. Y/N looked down at him, her heart swelling. Even in his drunken, clumsy state, he had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world.

Once Sarah and Mitch dropped them off right at Harry’s front door, Y/N was left with the daunting task of lugging Harry to his room. He wasn’t exactly helping, his body swaying dramatically as she tried to steady him.

“Harry, you’re not making this easy,” she huffed, half-laughing as he stumbled. By some miracle, she managed to guide him to the bed, where he flopped down—half on the mattress, half on the floor.

“Mission accomplished,” she muttered under her breath, crouching down to untie his laces. But just as she reached for his shoe, he playfully kicked his foot away, his lips curling into a cheeky grin.

“C’mere, Bambi,” he murmured, his voice low and a little slurred.

Y/N stood, brushing off her knees, only to find herself being tugged down onto the bed when he grabbed her wrist. She landed on top of him with a surprised gasp, her hands braced against his chest.

“Harry!” she exclaimed softly, but he didn’t say anything, just looked up at her with those green eyes, hazy but full of something she couldn’t quite describe.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to blur as they gazed at each other, an unspoken connection passing between them. Harry reached up, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The faint smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, but his touch was steady, his expression achingly tender.

“Mean it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You make me the happiest.”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the sincerity in his words, her breath catching in her throat. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. “You make me the happiest too, Harry.”

Taglist~

ravenclawmarvel noididnotsignupforthis comicalivy @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @mads3502 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown malf-azx @angeldavis777 fruity-harry he6rtshaker vikiii07 hannah9921 pepperonipastas sideboobrry11 soteric-princess madelinelcl ciriceimpera angelbunny222 dutchtheatrelore tchlamqtsgf hawkinsavclub1983 ironstudentlady tpwk-harry-styles angywritesstuff hstbsl06

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 1 month ago

Text

Soft Spots

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, grumpy-soft Simon, cat adoption, reader being a little mischievous, domestic vibes, light cursing, Simon reluctantly becoming a cat dad.

Author's Note: I have cat dad Simon brain rot so… yeah

Summary: You drag Simon to an animal shelter, thinking you’ll be the one to choose a pet. But when a grumpy, battle-scarred tomcat and an energetic little kitten catch his eye, Simon unexpectedly becomes a cat dad. And maybe, just maybe, you realize that the two little furballs aren’t so different from the two of you.

Masterlist | Part 2

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

You had been working on Simon for weeks.

Ever since you passed the animal shelter with its brightly colored sign reading Adopt, Don’t Shop! and its adorable display of kittens in the window, you had been determined to bring a cat into your lives. Simon, however, had been resistant.

“Too much work,” he grumbled the first time you brought it up.

“You literally take care of me,” you shot back.

He had given you a deadpan look, arms crossed. “You’re already enough of a handful.”

Yet, despite his stubborn refusal, here you were—standing in the middle of the shelter, surrounded by cages, the air filled with the sounds of purring, meows, and the occasional yowl.

Simon stood beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his mask covering the lower half of his face. His eyes flicked over the various cats, unreadable as ever.

You expected yourself to be the one to choose. But then—

“This one,” Simon muttered.

You blinked, turning to see him crouched in front of a large metal cage. Inside sat a scruffy-looking gray tomcat with thick fur, a torn ear, and piercing yellow eyes. His expression was pure judgment.

“Wait—really?” you asked, stunned.

Simon barely glanced at you, still engaged in a silent staring contest with the cat. “Yeah.”

You stared at the cat—who stared right back with the same unimpressed energy as Simon.

“Well,” you said, crossing your arms. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you picked the grumpiest one here.”

Before Simon could respond, something small and fast darted across the cage—a fluffy white kitten with bright blue eyes. She tumbled right into Smokey’s side, letting out a high-pitched meow.

The older cat huffed but, instead of swatting her away, immediately started grooming her, licking her tiny head with exaggerated, slow strokes. The kitten let out a delighted purr and pressed closer, practically glued to his side.

“Oh my God.” You clutched Simon’s arm, eyes wide.

He stiffened slightly. “What?”

“They love each other. We can’t separate them.”

Simon exhaled through his nose. “We’re here for one cat.”

“You were here for one cat,” you corrected, still staring at the duo. The tiny kitten—whom you had already mentally named Beans—was now happily nuzzling against Smokey’s belly. Smokey, despite his grumpy demeanor, curled a protective paw around her.

It was too much. Your heart was melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Simon,” you said seriously, turning to him with wide, pleading eyes. “Look at them. That’s his baby.”

Simon hesitated. He turned back to the cage, watching the way Smokey let out a long-suffering sigh but continued to let the kitten crawl all over him.

A long silence stretched between you.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, Simon muttered, “...Fine.”

You beamed. “You’re gonna be the best cat dad.”

He shot you a look. “Don’t push it.”

—

Bringing them home was chaos.

Smokey took to the apartment like a battle-hardened veteran. He strode into each room with cautious, calculated steps, sniffing everything with a skeptical expression before settling himself on the couch like he owned the place.

Beans, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of pure energy.

She zoomed across the living room, her tiny paws skidding against the hardwood floor as she crashed into furniture legs, meowed at nothing, and repeatedly attempted to jump onto the couch—only to fall back down every time.

You watched, covering your mouth to stifle a giggle. “She’s like a menace in a tiny package.”

Simon, standing beside you with his arms crossed, let out a quiet huff. “Yeah. Reckon Smokey’s regrettin’ his life choices.”

As if on cue, Beans tried—and failed—to jump onto the couch yet again. She let out a tiny, frustrated squeak. Smokey, clearly unimpressed, simply reached down, grabbed her scruff, and pulled her up himself.

Your heart melted.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. You turned to Simon, eyes sparkling. “That’s you.”

Simon blinked. “What?”

“You and Smokey. Both grumpy, both act like you don’t care—but secretly, you’re soft.” You gestured at Beans, who was now gleefully kneading into Smokey’s side. “And she’s me. Clingy, loud, and never leaves you alone.”

Simon exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re not that bad.”

You grinned, nudging him. “Admit it. You love me.”

His arm slid around your waist, pulling you close. “You’re lucky I do.”

—

Days turned into weeks, and Simon’s resistance crumbled.

He acted like the cats were your responsibility, but you’d walk into the living room only to find him sitting on the floor, one hand absentmindedly scratching behind Smokey’s ear while Beans curled up in his lap.

Or you’d wake up in the middle of the night and see a lump under the blankets, only to pull them back and find both cats curled up against Simon’s chest, his hand resting protectively over Beans.

The real breaking point came when you caught him talking to them.

“Smokey, you let her get away with too much,” he muttered one evening, watching as Beans clambered onto his leg. “Gotta set boundaries, mate.”

Smokey flicked an ear, unbothered.

You leaned against the doorway, smirking. “Giving dad advice now?”

Simon sighed, but there was no real bite to it. “If I don’t, no one will.”

Grinning, you made your way over, sitting beside him on the couch. Beans immediately abandoned Smokey to crawl onto your lap, purring like a motor.

“You know,” you murmured, resting your head against Simon’s shoulder, “I was right. Smokey and Beans are just like us.”

Simon hummed, rubbing slow circles against your hip. “Think so?”

You nodded. “Yeah. You act all tough, but secretly, you’re soft. And me? I’m annoying but impossible to get rid of.”

Simon chuckled. “Never wanted to get rid of you.”

Your heart flipped. You turned to him, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

Simon huffed, amused, but you could feel the warmth in his touch.

As if mirroring the sentiment, Beans let out a tiny, happy chirp and burrowed into your hoodie, while Smokey sprawled lazily against Simon’s side.

Yeah. You had officially turned Simon Riley into a cat dad.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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satellite-evans · 3 months ago

Text

Bisous

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: Charles' daughter loves to prank him <3

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The morning sun began its slow ascent over the horizon, filtering through the sheer curtains of your Monaco apartment. The soft, honey-hued glow that spread across the room seemed to breathe life into every corner. The elegant furniture, a blend of sleek modernity and comfortable coziness, caught the light in just the right way, creating an atmosphere of peaceful serenity. Outside, the sounds of the city were a distant hum—a low, constant pulse that blended with the faint rustling of leaves from the balcony plants, which swayed gently in the breeze. Every so often, you could hear the soft cry of seagulls soaring above the harbor, a reminder of the water that lay just beyond the city’s edge. Together, these sounds formed a comforting melody, one that had become the soundtrack to your mornings. It was a rhythm you cherished deeply, a moment of stillness amidst the sometimes overwhelming pace of life.

The rich, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted from the kitchen, swirling through the air and wrapping around you like a cozy embrace. It was your daily ritual—the one constant in your life that always brought a sense of calm. The familiar scent, warm and robust, settled in your chest as you took a slow, deep breath, savoring it. No matter how chaotic the rest of the day might become, this quiet moment was yours. It was the calm before the storm, the stillness before the world outside demanded your attention.

However, as is often the case with motherhood, this tranquil morning wouldn’t last long.

The soft, rhythmic sound of tiny feet pattering against the hardwood floor quickly broke the serenity. You turned just in time to see Amelie—your 2.5-year-old whirlwind—darting through the living room, her chestnut curls bouncing with every step. She was full of energy, her cheeks flushed with excitement, as she chased Leo, the family dog, around the room. The dog, who was equally enthusiastic, skidded around the furniture, dodging her tiny hands that reached for him. Her laughter echoed throughout the apartment, a sound so pure and infectious that it filled the space with a warmth only she could bring.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched the playful scene unfold from the kitchen. Despite the exhaustion that motherhood often brought, these moments—these bursts of joy—made it all worth it. The sight of Amelie, with her sparkling eyes that seemed to mirror Charles’ in their depth, and her tiny arms flailing as she ran after the dog, made your heart swell. She was the perfect blend of him—her father—and you.

It was almost hard to believe how fast she was growing up. Just a few months ago, she was still babbling nonsensically, and now she could say over 180 words (yes, you had counted them all), stringing together simple sentences that left you in awe. The way she repeated words, mimicking both you and Charles, was nothing short of miraculous. Each new sentence felt like a little victory, a reminder of how quickly time passed.

Amelie’s bond with Charles was a thing of its own. The two of them were inseparable, a pair that seemed destined for each other from the moment she was born. When Charles was home, she followed him everywhere, clinging to him with a love that was both adorable and touching. It was no surprise that her first word had been ‘Papa.’ Whenever Charles was around, her little world seemed to revolve around him, her every action drawing him into her orbit.

Today, though, was different. Today was special. Charles was finally coming home after weeks of being away for races. The moment Amelie heard the news that morning, she could hardly contain herself. She’d been bouncing on the bed, her tiny legs kicking in excitement, her high-pitched voice squealing with joy. "Papa come today! Maman, me excited!" she had exclaimed, her face lighting up with the kind of joy that only a child could express.

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling her into your arms for a quick hug. "I know, baby, I’m excited too," you said softly, brushing her curls out of her face. "But you have to save some of that energy for Papa so you can play together later, okay?"

Amelie nodded, her excitement practically radiating off her. "Otay, Maman," she had replied, her eyes gleaming with anticipation and went straight to the living room.

That promise was long forgotten as she was now chasing Leo around the living room, they were running around as though the whole apartment was their personal racetrack. The scene was one of pure chaos, but it was the kind of chaos that made life so full.

"Amelie Leclerc, can you please stop chasing Leo?" You called out playfully, though you could barely keep up with her giggles and the sound of her tiny feet tapping across the floor. You tried to grab her, but she managed to duck away with a squeal of laughter, running in the opposite direction.

Despite the exhaustion you could already feel creeping in, you couldn’t help but smile. Watching her run, her little body so full of life, it was impossible to not be filled with love. You finally caught her, scooping her up into your arms, the warmth of her small frame against you grounding you in the moment.

"What's up with you, young lady? Where is all this energy coming from?" You asked, brushing the hair out of her face. "It’s not even noon yet, and Maman is already tired." You teased, brushing the hair out of her face.

You carried her to the kitchen and began preparing her breakfast. Charles had always been very careful about her diet, ensuring she had balanced, healthy meals, and you followed that lead. Today’s breakfast was simple but wholesome—milk, cereal, a little fruit, and a slice of whole wheat toast, all made with love. She ate everything, happily chatting about how she was going to greet Charles and show him her new toy car collection. Her excitement was palpable, filling the space around you with a warmth that seemed to echo the sunlight streaming through the windows.

After breakfast, you helped Amelie get ready, brushing her hair and letting her pick out a pink bow to match her outfit—a red Ferrari T-shirt and tiny denim shorts. As she twirled around, admiring herself in the mirror, she beamed with pride. "Look, Maman! I am beautiful!"

Your heart swelled with love for her, your eyes soft with affection. "Yes, you are, honey—the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," you told her, your voice thick with emotion.

Just as you were about to sit down on the couch, the front door creaked open, and the familiar sound of Leo’s excited bark filled the apartment. The dog’s tail wagged furiously as he bolted toward the door, clearly recognizing the scent of the one person he always welcomed with open arms—Charles. You turned toward the door, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw your husband step inside, his face lighting up the moment he saw you.

Leo sprinted toward him, jumping up to cover him in kisses, and Charles laughed as he crouched down to greet him. "Hey, Leo! Did you take care of our girls? Good boy!" he chuckled, scratching the dog’s ears.

You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Hey, baby. Welcome home," you whispered against his skin, your heart racing at the feel of him in your arms once more. His familiar scent enveloped you, grounding you in the moment.

Charles’s response was immediate. He cupped your face with both hands, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was both urgent and tender. A soft, needy sigh escaped him as his lips trailed down to your jaw, then to the side of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and his hands roamed down your back, pulling you tighter to him as though he never wanted to let go.

"God, I missed you so much," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. His hands slid into your hair, gently tugging you closer, burying his face in the softness of it. "I thought about you every damn day. Your scent... the way you feel in my arms… I couldn’t wait to come home to you guys. Speaking of, where's Amelie? I missed her like crazy."

That was a good question. Normally, Amelie would be the first one to run to him, her little feet pounding against the hardwood floor as she squealed with excitement. But today, when you turned to see her, there she was, still sitting on the couch, staring intently at the TV, completely oblivious to her father’s return.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “Amelie, look! Papa is home! Aren’t you happy?” You called out gently, stepping toward her with Charles following close behind. The two of you sat down in front of her, a bit hesitant, unsure of what was going on.

Charles leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but laced with concern. “Hey, chérie, Papa is home! Didn’t you miss me?” He gave her a hopeful smile, but his eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness, clearly wondering if she’d forgotten him after all this time.

You joined in, trying to jog her memory. “Amelie, remember how excited you were this morning? You even picked your outfit for Papa.” You smiled as you spoke, trying to make the connection for her.

Amelie paused, still staring at the TV, her little fingers absently tracing the edge of her shirt. Then, without any warning, she leaned in and gave you a big, sloppy kiss right on the lips, her face lighting up with affection. “MUAH! Maman, I love you,” she said in her sweetest little voice, her eyes sparkling with pure love.

You were taken aback for a moment, smiling warmly at her. You could feel the surprise and confusion rising in Charles’s gaze, his mouth slightly open as he looked from Amelie to you. Why wasn’t she rushing to him, as she always did?

The silence hung in the air for a moment before Charles spoke up again, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I knew it. She forgot me! Mon Dieu, my own daughter forgot me!” He let out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest in mock despair.

You couldn’t help but laugh, though a part of you shared the same confusion. You reached over and gently placed a reassuring hand on his chest, your thumb brushing over his shirt as you looked up at him with a small smile. “Relax, Charles. She was ecstatic this morning. Maybe she’s just shy. You know how she can get when she's in a new mood.”

Charles gave you a skeptical look, but before he could say anything else, Amelie turned toward you again and planted another kiss on your cheek. “MUAH! Maman is mine,” she said, giggling as she gave you a tight hug.

The affectionate gesture only made Charles’s face drop even further. He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “I’ve been replaced, haven’t I? She’s all yours now, Maman.”

Just as Charles began to stand up, clearly disheartened, Amelie’s expression suddenly shifted. A twinkle danced in her eyes, and before either of you could react, she burst out laughing, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Surprise, Papa! I joke youuu!”

With a squeal of laughter, Amelie jumped off the couch and ran straight into Charles’s arms. He was caught off guard for a moment, but then, as if on instinct, he swept her up into his arms, his heart visibly lifting as he pulled her close.

“Oh my God, Amelie, you pranked Papa! You got me so good, chérie!” Charles laughed, his voice full of relief and pure joy as he kissed her cheeks over and over, showering her with affection. “Papa thought you forgot about him! You’re going to be trouble, little one.”

Amelie giggled, her tiny hands grasping his face, and with all the innocence of a child, she responded, “I remember you. Always. I love you, Papa.”

Charles’s eyes softened, and he blinked away a tear that had unexpectedly formed. He held her tightly, his voice full of emotion. “I love you too, mon amour,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

You watched the scene unfold, feeling a rush of warmth flood through you. It was moments like these that made everything worthwhile—the simple, genuine love and affection that filled your home.

Amelie, still clinging to her father’s neck, turned toward you eagerly. “Papa, play cars with me now?” she asked, her voice full of anticipation.

Charles smiled, the familiar light returning to his eyes as he nodded. “Of course, let’s go! But first, a big group hug.” He pulled you both in close, wrapping his arms tightly around you and Amelie. The three of you stood there for a moment, savoring the closeness, the warmth of your little family.

“I love my girls,” he whispered, his voice filled with adoration.

You kissed his cheek, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and love in your heart. “And we love you too,” you replied, your words sincere and full of warmth.

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jinxsequin · 4 months ago

Text

COSMIC ✧˖*°࿐

| au!powder x fem!reader

| wc: 6.4k

| summary: being in love with your best friend becomes complicated

| content/warnings: men dni, no mention of y/n, best friends to lovers, bestfriend!ekko, set in ep 7 au except vi and cait are alive and thriving (pretend they all survived that explosion), basically everyone is alive and well apart from powder&vi's parents LMAO, kind of wrote this as a cope, possibly ooc powder (and cait), r and powder are both oblivious, mentions of anxiety and poor mental health, alcohol mentioned briefly, slightly angsty, fluff, kissing/making out, slightly suggestive, lazy writing

After a long day at the academy, you wanted to do absolutely nothing but crawl into bed and avoid any social interaction until you’re inevitably forced to face reality again. That option however, was no longer available since you’d done that enough times the past few weeks for the label of social recluse to become a little too fitting. So here you found yourself, at The Last Drop, doing the second best thing, people-watching whilst Powder worked behind the bar.

Vi and Cait were currently engrossed in what looked to be the most engaging, riveting conversation across the bar, Vi’s arm slung around Cait’s shoulder, carding the midnight blue strands through her fingers periodically, Cait’s hand settled on Vi’s thigh in return. But to the carefully trained eye of a self-proclaimed people-watcher (in the least creepy way possible), and in general how accustomed you’ve become to Cait and Vi, you know they were having the most casual exchange about the silliest thing ever, they’re just so wrapped up in their own bubble, seriously, if it was possible you’d actually believe you could physically see the hearts floating around them - they were completely and entirely enamoured with each other. But it was the look in their eyes that struck you unexpectedly with a sickening sense of yearning. It filled you with inexplicable joy to see someone you’d grown up alongside, with an unspeakably painful past and admittedly not-so-easy upbringing, get to be happy and doted on. If anyone deserved that it was Vi and her huge heart, after putting everyone before herself her entire adolescence. And Caitlyn, though she and Powder may not have got along like a house on fire in the beginning, had won over everyone’s hearts eventually. Her heart was always in the right place, and she was constantly surrounded by such a warm energy, it was impossible to not be open and comfortable around her. Involuntarily, every time you thought about it you found yourself aching for a connection like theirs. Sure, you were a tiny bit envious, but it gave you that glimmer of hope. With who? Well.

A damp cloth thrown at your shoulder pulled you out of your whirlwind.

“Hey toots, still here?” Powder said, settling at your side.

Powder. When your parents’ lives were lost in the war, Benzo had kindly taken you under his wing when you had no family to turn to. Ekko had quickly befriended you, and the two of you remained close in the present. Of course, as Ekko often hung around Vi, Claggor, Mylo and Powder, they were all introduced to you and a bond had been inevitably struck. From an early age you and Powder had clicked, the pair of you naive and bright-eyed, brimming with excitement and potential. Your shared interests and passions had led you both to study at the academy, where you remained glued to each other's sides, if there was one of you around, anyone who knew the two of you, was well aware that the other would be lingering close by.

So what was different? As of late, being in her proximity had begun to make an uncomfortable feeling twist around your spine and find its home in you. You had spent countless restless nights, racking your brain of the timeline of events that could have possibly led up to this. Maybe it was the air, the weather, the holiday spirit? It was to no avail, however, as you simply couldn't pinpoint when or where this feeling had crept in. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the way that you didn’t want to be around Powder, no, rather, it was the opposite. You couldn’t stay away. And your dynamic didn’t help, you spent nearly every waking moment together, and even then often slept in her presence too. But it terrified you. The two of you, in many of your plentiful late night oil burning sessions, had spoken in depth of the fear of change in many contexts. You’d never explicitly talked about it in regards to your friendship, but that went without saying. Change couldn’t happen. You didn’t want it to either, right? You repeated the mantra to lull yourself to sleep on such harrowing nights. It won’t happen. You were at a loss, but you knew you wouldn't give up what you had for the world, so it was buried as well as you could.

“Umm, space girl, I’m pretty sure I’m not talking to myself over here,” Powder snarked, pulling you once again from your spiralling, a teasing grin on her face.

“Huh?” You replied, still dazed, pulling the cloth off and playing with it absentmindedly in your hands before finally meeting her eyes. “I mean yeah, I was just waiting here till you got off.”

Your gaze impulsively drifted back to the couple again, their foreheads pressed together now as tipsy giggles were shared between the two.

“Well good news, sugar, Vander let me off early,” she returned in a sing-song tone, shooting you a strange look at your disorientated behaviour before following your line of vision and landing on the pair. She scrunched her nose slightly in mock disgust before letting out a soft sigh.

“Positively sickening, aren’t they.”

“Right. I don’t know how many me and who’s I have left in me anymore,” you shared, before shaking your head slightly as if to finally pull yourself away.

Powder’s gaze turned back to you at that, a few seconds of silence as your words settled. An unfathomable expression crossed her face, before a small smile settled on her lips.

“Wanna get out of here?” she said, your attention fully returned to her as she held out her arm.

“Lead the way, captain,” you affirmed, linking your arm with her inviting one, leaning into her warmth as her smile widened, knowing another quiet night unwinding in her hideout is just what the both of you needed.

Idle chatter over the hum of the night occupied your minds and tongues until you reached Powder’s beloved workshop, whereby you both threw down your belongings and settled on the couch to watch the lights wrapping the lanes in that soft, familiar golden glow.

“I would so not!” Powder shrieked indignantly, watching as you double over in laughter.

“You would! I see it now, you in a fancy white lab coat somewhere topside, tinkering away-”, you added, giggling at the ridiculous image in your head of future mad scientist Powder.

“Not!” she interrupted, entirely opposed to your idea.

“Would! I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you discovered something like magic, somehow,” you said, though there’s a serious element to your teasing. She’s a genius, there’s no doubt in your mind that she could if she put her mind to it.

“Not gonna happen,” she replied, rolling her eyes though a faint blush at your incessant teasing formed across her cheeks.

“Maybe in another universe, then.”

“Hm,” she tilted her head, and turned back to you, shoulder brushing yours. “Where are you in all this then?”

“Hmmmm,” you put your finger to your chin in mock wonder, “you probably cracked some code and figured out how to fuse us together so we actually never separate,” you joke.

Powder looked at you for a moment before finally cracking, the sweet sound of her unfiltered laughter hitting your ears and filling your heart with its warmth.

“Okay, that sounds more like me now,” she replied once the laughter subsided, head finding a place on your shoulder. That squeamish feeling resurfaced for a moment at the tenderness of her contact, but you brushed it off as quickly as it arrived, leaning in to her.

“Told ya.”

“Maybe, but…,” she unexpectedly spoke up again. Her blue eyes find yours as you silently encourage her to expand on her thought. “Sure, Zaun isn’t perfect,” she carried on quietly, slightly leaning up to rest her chin on your shoulder. You shivered slightly. “And yeah, maybe I do want to do things but I’d do them for the sake of this place, to improve the quality of life here. I’m happy here. With everyone. With you. I’d want to do it with you,” she finished, eyes searching yours, as if awaiting your reaction. Your heart skipped several beats, you swore, how would you live if she continued to throw out such heartfelt statements in a casual conversation?

“Hell yeah, you would,” you finally managed to get out, eyes still on her face, “and I’d be right there throughout, like your little cheerleader.”

The intensity of the moment dissipates with Powder’s snort at your reply . “Always the sap, toots,” she opts for, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer as the drowsiness begins to fall over the two of you.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was a few weeks later when you, Powder and Ekko found yourselves poring over blueprints for a project in the early hours of the night. The Last Drop had closed early, courtesy of it being a weekday and the cold weather. The three of you were the only people sat at a table inside, Vander having trusted Powder to lock up responsibly.

Ekko let out a loud sigh as he leaned back in his chair. “I wonder when this’ll finally end.”

You hummed in agreement, the hours spent grinding away wearing away at your patience. “The Innovator’s Competition is less than a month away, we’ll have to have it done before then. I can’t wait though.” You mimicked Ekko, slouching back in your chair.

“It can’t just be a throwaway project. It has to be perfect,” Powder ran her hands through her hair frustratedly, the half-up-and-down-do hanging on for life. You and Ekko groaned in sync at that, you’d been at it for hours and though you shared the same perfectionist ideas about the project, she’d been particularly antsy today.

“Look, maybe we should wrap it up for today. Revisit it tomorrow with a fresher mind,” you offered, stretching out your legs.

Powder nodded in relent. Ekko leaned up, instantly beginning to pack away his things. “Yeah, you can say that again,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna head home now. You coming with?” he looked to you for your response, though the teasing smile on his face told you he was already aware of your answer.

“No,” you replied, observing Powder's worn-out figure, “I think I’m gonna hang around for a bit. I’ll catch you later though, Ekko.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder, turning to you both as he began to walk out. “Night then, don’t stay up firing your brain cells for too long!”

You and Powder both snickered at that, waving him off. A comfortable silence blanketed the pair of you as you began packing away the day’s work, hands brushing ever so often. Powder stood up eventually, brushing herself off and walked up to the window overlooking the streets of Zaun.

“Oh my god!” She suddenly whispered excitedly, turning her head to you with a delighted grin. Your heart twisted in your chest. “C’mere, look!”

You pushed yourself off the chair at her command, quickly approaching where she stood at the long window. Sure enough, a dusting of snow had crowned the lanes of the city, countless snowflakes continuing to make their home on the surroundings that were fortunate enough to be above ground and not sunken under. Powder’s eyes remained fixated on the side of your face as you watched, fascinated.

“Snow,” you breathed out, “it’s beautiful.” Snow was rare in Zaun, the last time you remembered seeing it vaguely was an impromptu visit to Piltoever when you were much younger, so it was an entirely exciting experience witnessing it now.

“Right,” she mumbled in reply, her stare returning to the landscape.

“We absolutely have to go out!” You said, enlivened once again by the weather, running to grab something warm enough to step out in. Powder turned around, watching your rapid movement.

“What, right now??” she replied sceptically, though her actions betrayed her as she copied you, picking up the coat she’d shed earlier.

“Umm, yes. You’re not arguing with me on this,” you shot back adamantly, already wrapping a scarf around your exposed neck and halfway out. Powder rolled her eyes in response, despite the fond smile adorning her lips.

Regret. That’s what you were beginning to feel, crouching behind the fence of a small plot of land, hiding from Powder’s impromptu snowball attack. All thoughts of the troubles of your project entirely forgotten as she threw herself into a stubborn fight. You were out of breath by the time you had even managed to lob one back at her. There was no way this was fair game, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation. A rustle nearby broke you out of your thoughts, and a lump of snow hitting your arm had you fleeing from your place of refuge, jumping over the fence and onto the snow-covered land.

“There’s no running from me, sucker!” Powder’s cackle sounded through the night, footsteps close behind you as you narrowly dodged another hit.

“Give me a chance at least!” You yelled back, refusing to glance behind. You had almost outrun her when the inevitable happened, and you landed on the blanketed ground with a thud. Unfortunately for you, Powder had been much closer behind you than you had anticipated, so when you were knocked down, she’d crash landed on top, her legs entrapping your body.

“Ughhh…” she sounded out after as she leaned up a little on her elbows. She brushed the overgrown bangs out of her face, hair completely wild now. Her eyes scrutinised your face, assessing for any damage. “You good?” she asked tentatively, worry flickering over her face.

All you could do was nod in response. Any words that you had ready at your disposal had all vanished at the unexpected proximity, and though at the initial impact your bones had been chilled, you now felt an overwhelming burning sensation everywhere. Her hand slowly reached out towards your cheek, brushing away the snowflakes that had settled there. Okay, now your heart was actually going to be catapulted out of your chest with its vicious thumping. Her gaze remained centred on your face, before she leaned in closer.

“Gotcha,” she murmured, watching your reddening face as she broke into laughter, finally relenting and sitting up. Despite your quiet sigh of relief, your body instantly craved the contact lost. You shook your head before sitting up a little, watching as she occupied herself with making a snow angel besides you.

“Cheater,” you finally grumbled out, though your words had no bite.

“Won fair and square toots, accept it or not!” Powder quickly retorted, offering you her hand as a grip as she towered above you now, a goofy grin on her face at her so-called victory.

Up in her hideout, you busied yourself setting up a cover and a blanket on the floor of Powder’s makeshift bedroom whilst she finished up changing in her closet. You were half way through tucking yourself in when Powder re-entered, eyes searching for you in confusion before landing on your figure on the floor.

She threw herself on the bed before throwing you a puzzled look. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Just…thought I’d be better off here tonight,” you replied, looking up at her and trying your best to keep a casual tone.

“Okay,” her eyebrows furrowed in further doubt, “but why?”

At the beginning of your friendship, when you’d grown comfortable enough to be able to stay over, you’d began by setting out blankets and pillows on the floor whilst she slept on the bed, though she’d offered it to you and was turned down countlessly. This routine had carried on for only a short while though, because with how drawn to each other you were you’d quickly been able to feel safe enough to sleep in the same bed. As of recent though, that godforsaken feeling you were hoping would fade away on its own had only grown stronger, as if it was feeding off any interaction and proximity you had with Powder. Suffice to say, it had become the subject of many overthinking sessions spent in your own bed, tossing and turning tirelessly. It would of course be entirely amplified lying besides her, but you’d sucked it up and taken it for a spell. Tonight, however, after the earlier event you had barely recovered from - seriously, you think your heart needs to be professionally checked - you took it upon yourself to take to the floor, too afraid of the intensity of the alternative.

At your unintentional silence in response to her question, Powder frowned, turning away and lying down. “Okay, if you want your space, I get it. G’night,” she said softly, facing away from you.

You laid down, stomach twisting at the thought of her thinking you were upset at her, knowing that was often the conclusion she jumped to when you were slightly distant or off with her. You wanted to reach out, comfort her, assure her she had done nothing wrong, but a meek goodnight was all you could offer before you similarly turned away and closed your eyes.

You couldn’t tell how many hours had passed, or if any had passed at all but your unease was relentless, you’d almost nodded off about ten times already before your body would pull you out of almost-slumber and leave you awake with your troubling thoughts again. A combination of guilt and the freezing cold seeping into every bone in your body was going to keep you up all night, you acknowledged as you resigned to your fate, turning to lay flat on your back.

A shifting in the sheet from the bed above interrupted the silence, Powder’s similarly sleep deprived figure peered down at you, a disgruntled expression on her face.

“Okay,” she rasped, “this is ridiculous. Come here.” She held out the blanket, inviting you in.

Fuck it, there wasn’t a second of hesitation in the way you got up and crawled in, instantly calmed by the warmth her body offered. Who were you to say no to that? All feelings of discomfort and fear and anything in between melted away under her touch. Drowsiness finally draped over the two of you, her arm coming to rest over your waist and her head nestled in the crook between your neck and shoulder, blue locks tickling your cheek.

“Silly,” she mumbled into your neck, the last words that were spoken before sleep fell over you both.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“Well, you look rough,” are the first kind words that tumble out of Ekko the next morning when you reluctantly enter Benzo’s workshop for your shared shift.

“Wow thank you, buster, how kind,” you grumbled, coming behind the counter to take a seat next to Ekko. Working at Benzo’s wasn’t terrible, and even though it was only the three of you usually running the ship, it was manageable. Besides, haggling with clueless customers alongside Ekko usually provided good entertainment. Just not this morning, not after the tumultuous storm brewing in your head.

The gentle smell of lavender hit you, before Ekko handed over a warm cup of herbal tea. You accept it gratefully, raising it to your lips and facing the door, and whatever else the day may bring.

“Are you seriously not going to tell me what’s up?” Ekko sighed out exasperatedly.

“Nothing, dude, seriously,” you turned back to him, nervous at how easily he can always read you. “Just got a lot on my mind right now.”

“A problem shared is a problem halved is a problem solved, as the Professor puts it,” he quipped back playfully, prodding your forearm.

“There’s no way you’re quoting the Professor to me right now,” you deadpanned, shooting him a look.

“What I mean to say is, it’ll probably help if you talk it out, ” Ekko carried on, “besides I always tell you shit! This is only fair.”

You rolled your eyes lightheartedly, before relenting. “Fine, it’s just Pow-” Your sentence is interrupted with Ekko’s stifled laugh.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Okay, what the fuck is that about?”

“Nothing!” he straightened his expression quickly, prompting you to carry on.

You shot him a final warning look before hesitantly carrying on. Fuck it, you’re this far in now, might as well spill. “I don’t know. I can barely keep my composure around Powder anymore. I can’t figure out what’s shifted.”

Ekko smiled in understanding before patting your shoulder. “That, my friend, is what happens when you hold it in for too long.”

“What?!!”

“What!” he held his free hand up in mock surrender, “I’m just saying, it’s so obvious to anyone in the vicinity of you both that there’s something there. Seriously, a charge that could rival the strongest of currents,” he shook his head, a playful grin on his face he didn't hold back.

“It’s not like that for her. Well at least, I don’t think so,” you groaned, head in your hands. “Anytime I think a move might be made, it’s snatched away. But at the same time every thing we do is the same as it’s always been, just…intensified.”

“Well, I can’t speak for her,” Ekko replied contemplatively, “but what I do know is you just need to have an honest conversation about how you feel, and where you stand.”

“When did you become so wise?” you muttered, looking up at him full of genuine gratefulness.

“When did you both become so blindly oblivious?” he shot back boldly, returning your grin. Your comeback was stifled by the entrance of your first customer of the day, the familiar bell of the door sounding through the shop as they made their way to the counter.

“And for the record, can I just say I fucking knew it,” Ekko enthused under his breath as you got up to greet the customer.

“Ekko!”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was later that day when you decided to suck it up and take Ekko’s advice. How bad could it really go, the conversation was going to be inevitable at some point if you wanted to retain your sanity. Trekking through the light snow to The Last Drop, where you knew Powder would be working tonight didn’t take too long, but long enough for all the anxious thoughts to resurface. Your head was already boiling by the time you took a seat at the bustling bar.

Vander looked up at the sound of you pushing the stool in. “Hi kid,” he chuckled fondly at your tired wave as a form of greeting. He turned away for a second, gesturing to Powder at the other end of the bar counter of your arrival.

“Oh hey, pretty lady, come here often?” Powder teased mock-seductively the moment her eyes landed on your tense figure, walking to stand across from you. You tried your best to act normal, but the way your heart was doing flips in your chest as she poured a fruity drink and pushed it towards you was becoming extremely hard to ignore.

“Hey Pow,” you replied softly, taking the drink gratefully. She shot Vander a look, wordlessly asking for a break so she could be closer. Vander obliged without a second of hesitation with a wave of his hand, as Powder made her way to the front of the bar, taking a seat next to you.

“I’m going to need you to do that haircut soon, trinket,” she huffed, blowing away the long, overgrown bangs that refused to be pinned into the two space buns she currently had hair pulled into. Powder had swore she would never go to Zaun’s infamous barber again, after her disastrous last visit that ended with extremely choppy bangs. You still thought they were adorable, and with her face she could absolutely pull it off. But that was you, and you were perhaps a little biased. Since then, she’d only entrusted you with scissors near her hair, and had mentioned another haircut briefly earlier this morning when you’d awoken in her room.

“Okay, I’ll come over and do it soon,” you returned, never one to turn down her requests. The piece of hair flew down again, and this time your hand automatically reached out to tuck it behind her ear. The boldness of your action didn’t register until you accidentally brushed her cheek, which was blazing under her fiery blush. Fuck. You couldn’t do it, you thought, as all plans of health communication flew out the window. You’d resign yourself to playing this game for the rest of your life if you had to, but you were convinced you’d never have the courage to even think about being more with her, hurt you as it might. You quickly dropped your hand as fast as it had reached towards her, oblivious to the way Powder chased your touch.

“Oh! Almost forgot!” Powder perked up, the tension of the moment snapping with her exclamation. “Here,” she opened up your palm, pushing something miniscule ino it.

You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at her in confusion. She didn’t speak, just nodded at you as if to encourage you to look. You opened your palm, and there sat a snow globe. It was obviously handmade, her love and care clearly poured into it. You shook it, watching as the blizzard inside swirled around the landscape before settling, two miniscule figures of the two of you in the middle. A strong sense of emotion, intensified by the months of containing it, crashed over you as you stared at it in awe, and you were dismayed to find tears prickling at your eyes so quickly.

“I love it,” you managed to choke out, meeting Powder’s adoring grin.

“I’m glad,” she replied genuinely, before realising you were at the verge of tears. Her hands found your shoulders, attempting to ground you. “Whoa there, trinket. It’s just a snowglobe, what’s wrong?” her eyebrows drawn together in concern.

“Feels different,” you mumbled out, free hand coming up to wipe away your vulnerability.

Powder was stumped at that, worried gaze still roaming over your flushed face. She pulled her arms away from where they’d just been placed on your shoulders, and tentatively took your hand in hers. “It’s not,” she opted for, “nothing’s different, nothing changed okay?”

The blood drained from your face at that, your body throwing itself into another whirlwind of emotions at the implication of her words. You knew she was just saying what she thought would be the best response to your nonsensical statement, but it didn’t hurt any less.

“I know,” you eventually replied quietly, gingerly squeezing her hand instead of acknowledging the anxious frown that had settled over her face.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

Since that night, you hadn’t seen Powder for the majority of the next three days, and when you had hung out between that time, it was to work on the upcoming project as a trio. This had already slightly confused Powder, though it might have been a normal amount of time to have hung out, it was definitely out of the usual for you two, who had often been told by Vander, Silco and others alike, that you were actually joined at the hip. But what had actually thrown Powder into bewilderment was how you had rushed off home after insisting you had a lot of work to do, instead of staying past hours together as was so often your routine. She was struck between feeling distraught at the idea she had upset you somehow, and guilty at letting her mind run wild when it could be down to wanting your personal space. Come to think of it, you had been acting weird for a while now.

In an attempt to quieten the voices and to gain some peace of mind, Powder found herself in a place she would not often come alone. Piltover. She slipped the spare key she had been entrusted with into the keyhole of her sister and her sister’s girlfriend’s shared house, making her way over to the kitchen table. She laid her head on the surface, welcoming the cooling feeling. No one seemed to be home, which Powder was grateful for, as she didn’t think she’d have a good excuse as to why she’d dropped by so suddenly and unannounced.

“Hello??” A voice sounded through the silence of the kitchen, it seemed her wish was not granted.

Powder reluctantly raised her head and propped up her elbows, resting her face on her hands in an attempt to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Powder?” Caitlyn asked incredulously, as if her eyes were deceiving her, though she quickly crossed the room to sit across from her, a twinkle in her eye.

“The one and only,” Powder answered with a toothy grin despite herself.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Caitlyn quipped, reaching out for the orange juice carton and two cups.

Powder’s eyes flicked around the room anxiously at that, biting at her lower lip. She hadn’t anticipated answering to anybody right now, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise with the heavy thoughts weighing down on her. Maybe she would regret opening up so easily, kick herself later, but as Caitlyn offered her a glass, there looked to be no better option than to share what had been preying on her mind.

“...And she’s been off with me since! I don’t know what I can do to make things right if I don’t know what I did wrong…” Powder finished her run-through of troubling events, her hands thrown up in the air to punctuate her sentence.

“Sweetheart, you need to know there’s nothing you’ve done wrong. And she doesn’t think that either,” Caitlyn replied thoughtfully, searching for her next words as Powder watched in anticipation, “all this just seems like…some miscommunication. To me that night at the bar was her probably trying to tell you she likes you, in all honesty.”

The drink Powder had taken a sip of constricted her lungs hearing Caitlyn’s response, saving herself at the last second with choked out coughs. Caitlyn flashed her a look of wild concern as Powder gathered herself together.

“What?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Caitlyn broke into a giggle at her shock at something that she thought was entirely obvious, even before this from her own observation. She raised her palm, hand coming over to lay on top of Powder’s own carefully.

“You know for someone that’s such a well-known genius, you sure do miss what’s right in front of your eyes, and everyone else’s,” she teased lightheartedly.

Powder’s face scrunched up at her statement. “Fuck, I thought I was doing a good job hiding. Am I really that obvious?”

“The both of you are, I’m afraid,” Caitlyn laughed.

“And how do you just know all this shit?” Powder retorted.

“Let's just say I've played this game before,” Caitlyn replied, blue eyes glimmering.

“What? Don't tell me my sister put you through that-”

“Now why the hell was I not invited to this party?” The sound of Vi’s voice rang through the kitchen as she sauntered towards them. Placing a kiss on Caitlyn’s cheek, she turned to Powder and engulfed her in a hug, arms wrapping around her shorter frame tightly. Powder’s eyes widened as she returned the embrace, not expecting the sudden display of affection.

“Uff, what was that for?” Powder exclaims as Vi finally released her, but not before ruffling through her choppy locks.

“Can I not hug my baby sister?” Vi grumbled playfully, standing back at Caitlyn’s side as a warm smile spread across the latter's face at the sight of the siblings’ antics. Playful bickering was passed between the pair, before Powder straightened up as if remembering herself, ready to leave.

“Leaving so soon? You only just got here,” Vi lamented as Powder began bidding her goodbyes.

“I’ve got…something to do. I’ll be back soon, sis,” Powder promised, before turning to Caitlyn with a warm smile, “and thank you, Cait,” she said, hoping she conveyed the genuinity of her thankfulness.

“Any time, Powder,” Caitlyn shot her a knowing smile back as she took her final leave.

The house fell back into a content silence as Vi snaked an arm around Cait’s waist, looking at her puzzled. “Did I miss something?”

“You, my dear," Cait pressed a victorious kiss to Vi's cheek, mimicking her early move, “have just lost a bet.”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“Thank the gods!” You declared, Ekko nodding vigorously in agreement as the pair of you wrapped up to leave, after a particularly productive session finalising your project. Everything was finally coming together, all the hard work beginning to pay off. Powder had suggested the meeting be in her hideout today, but she’d been uncharacteristically quiet and on edge all evening. You shot her a look now, subtly trying to check up on her. Your heart stuck in your throat when she met your gaze suddenly, clearly needing to say something. You looked away abruptly, ever since that night your emotions had been going haywire around her even more. She’d talk when she was ready. Just as you were about to step out with Ekko, thinking you were in the clear, her hand wrapped around your forearm, holding you in place.

“Can… Can you stay? Just for a bit,” Powder swiftly asked, trying her utmost best to not sound like she was pleading.

You looked at Ekko for a second, finding he was already looking at you, eyebrow raised in question. He’d been under the impression that you’d already talked, though it was clear to him now that was not the case. You turned back to Powder, who was awaiting your response in apprehension.

“See ya later, dudes,” Ekko said cheerfully, and you swore you saw the smirk flashing across his features before he circled around and left, leaving you no time to even attempt to argue.

“Umm…sure, Pow,” you spoke softly, your arm released from her grip. Her eyes softened at the use of her nickname from you, shoulders relaxing slightly. “What’s up?”

Fuck, Powder hadn’t thought that far. She’d just seen you leaving, and the thought of you slipping out of her grasp and no longer near her had made her panic.

“Will you cut my hair, please?” she managed to save herself, sighing in relief as you silently agreed and followed her back over to an area of her hideout.

Once you were both situated on the floor, you sat on your knees in front of her mirroring her own position, combing through her brightly coloured locks in preparation for the cut. Silence fell over you. Though this would be normal on any other occasion, cutting her hair was usually chaotic, with Powder squirming and moving around too much, you shrieking at her to stop said movement before you gave her a haircut that was so terrible it’d rival the dreaded barber’s. This silence wasn’t your usual comfortable silence, it was full of things left unsaid on both of your sides, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife.

You tried to ignore the wild thumping of your heart at the closeness of your current position, combing the bangs across her forehead. The way her eyes traced over every one of your features so thoroughly was certainly doing nothing to help. Every one of Powder’s intentions to talk to you properly tonight were rapidly vanishing from her head, the words stuck in her throat. And yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off you.

The thought of all the feelings she’d had over the past few months, not too different from your own, came back to her now - the nights she had spent overthinking, the fear of losing you, the fear of change, the doubts she’d had, everything was suddenly too overwhelming as she took the comb you were using out of your hand and placed it down. Your eyes widened with astonishment as she brought her hands to either side of your face, leaning her forehead against yours. The fear of you not reciprocating how she felt was drowned out by the overwhelming desire to be close to you, to taste you.

“What are you doing?” you dared to murmur, pulse rate quickening.

Powder let out a shaky breath, her eyes quickly darting from your eyes to your lips and back again. You were pretty convinced you were about to explode.

“Please, tell me you want this as much as I do,” she pleaded quietly, lips brushing yours.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” you whispered back. The sentence had barely left your mouth before Powder connected her lips to yours. You immediately reciprocated, her warm lips pressing deeper against you as she tugged you closer. Your hands went to tangle in her hair, haircut long forgotten. She hummed approvingly, fingers running over your cheekbone, every single doubt and fear between you melted away by the passion of her touch.

When you finally had to pull away to breathe, her forehead rested against yours, eyes bright as she scanned over your equally delighted face. “I’ve always loved you, and that won’t change,” she murmured, her voice so soft and tender despite the weight of her words, your heart skipping several beats and landing in your mouth.

“I love you too, as if that wasn’t obvious enough already,” you breathed out. Powder giggled in response, the sounds only intensifying by your sudden attack of kisses all over her face. She writhed under your grip, protests not even half-serious as you continued to smother her.

“Stop squirming, I get to do this!” you declared, avoiding her chasing your lips as you pressed your lips against her flushed cheek. Powder finally managed to get a grip on you, strong hands on your hips as she pulled you onto her lap with ease. Just as you lean in to press another soft kiss to the edge of her mouth, she quickly moved her head so your lips landed on hers once again, moving quickly and passionately against them as she brought one hand up to your face again to bring you impossibly closer. Your mind was hazy as you kissed her back fervently, arms coming around her neck to ground yourself. You could barely take a breath in the tiny sliver of time there was that you two are apart, her eyes trained on yours lovingly before she pulls you back in, again and again.

“I’m not gonna be done with you for a while, babe.”

| a/n: well here it is!! my first time writing this sort of thing and i feel like it kinda showed but posting regardless because i'm so sick of seeing this in my drafts. pls leave a comment or drop something in my inbox on ur thoughts, they're much appreciated !! <3

#powder #powder x reader #au powder #powder x you #powder x female reader #arcane #arcane x reader #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinxsequin #powder x fem!reader

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bluerosefox · 1 year ago

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Bittersweet and Sweetheart Exes

12 am brain rot

Can...

Can I get an AU where Talia, Danny and Bruce dated each other and later break up? Maybe have them meet when Bruce is in Batman training years and its a whirlwind romance between the three. Like we know how Bruce and Talia are together as exes (both a little toxic to each other, a love hate kinda thing and yet still have something) BUT Danny is the ex they always are sweet for, like he is the one they love flirting with when they see him (Talia more so regardless where and when, Bruce can only openly flirt as Bruce/Brucie, he has to be sneaky when Batman)

I want Talia and Bruce both trying to one up each other for Danny's attention. They know he's Phantom btw, and his human side as well. They however don't know he's also the Ghost King (in training at the time) Danny keeps forgetting to mention it.

Oh, oh. Let's have the Batfam find out due to a cult summoning, like someone in the League is trying to usurp Talia's rule (I want LOA leader Talia) and Damian is taken by them (which means Talia, Bruce, and the Batfam are coming to save him) and they try summoning the Ghost King to try to offer Damian as a sacrifice for power in order to take over the League.

Both Bruce and Talia weren't expecting to see their ex appear in a swirl of stars, aurora lights, and galaxies with a crown to match, a cape that looked like it had a cosmos swirling, and a Kingly outfit though.

(Or if we wanna make it extra funny, why not have them both had dated Danny at different times, and didn't know they are all exes to each other until Danny goes "DANNY!" "Talia? Bruce? What are you both doing here?" "Wait you know him/her? How?" "....Yes? And well...I dated them...")

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sh4nksslvt · 15 days ago

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The Lost Reader

A mysterious reader of Poneglyphs finds a new home among the Straw Hat Pirates, slowly becoming an irreplaceable part of their crew as their love for them grows.

READER WHO CAN READ AND SPEAK PONEGLYPH

Strawhats x Poneglyph gn!reader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

main characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, robin

tags: fluff, sfw, harem(?), soft

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs cringe and oc

words count: 1.9k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It started with silence.

Not the heavy kind that suffocates—but the quiet peace of wind brushing through trees, waves lapping against the sand, and birds singing above crumbled ruins. Your only companions were time-worn Poneglyphs, mossy stone relics, and the hollow ache of knowing you shouldn’t exist.

You didn’t know what you were—only that you could read them. The Poneglyphs. Their words came to you like breath, like blood. It wasn’t learned. It just… was.

And then one day, the silence broke.

“WOOOOAAAHH! What a weird island!!”

You looked up from a worn page, blinking at the explosion of sound.

A rubber man had landed face-first in your tomato garden.

You blinked again, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t imagining the scene before you. The man—his limbs were stretched at impossible angles, and his face was, well… currently smushed into the dirt of your carefully cultivated tomato patch.

“Luffy!” a woman’s voice shouted from the shore. “Stop crashing into things!”

You stared in disbelief, watching as a circus of chaos disembarked from a sunny, lion-faced ship. At least, that’s what it looked like to you.

“Wha—?” You stumbled back, half-wondering if you’d stepped into some sort of dream. But no, the crew’s laughter was real. Loud, boisterous, utterly chaotic, and very much present.

Before you could comprehend the whirlwind that had just descended upon your quiet life, a figure bounded toward you. The rubber man—Luffy—was grinning at you like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen all day. And, for all you knew, you were.

“Hey! Who're you? you live here? cool! SHISHISHI” Luffy asked, already sitting cross-legged on the ground as if he hadn’t just completely flattened your garden. “Wanna eat with us?”

You blinked, still too stunned to form a coherent sentence. “I… guess?...Im Y/N”

And so began your first real encounter with the Straw Hat Pirates.

Nami, with her keen eyes and sharp questions, immediately assessed the situation, interrogating you about your maps and supplies like she was about to audit your entire existence. Sanji, the ever-romantic chef, started cooking a feast so lavish that you were half-tempted to check if the food had its own backstory. The man even had heart-shaped eyes every time you praised his cooking.

Usopp, ever the over-the-top self-proclaimed hero, proudly handed you a coconut with a grin that could only be described as a “friendship orb.” “From me to you,” he declared, as if he had just made the world’s most profound offering.

And then there was Chopper, who took your pulse the second he saw you, declaring that you had “island person syndrome” and needed immediate attention.

Robin, however, watched you closely. Her gaze sharp but gentle, as if trying to figure out a puzzle no one else could see.

“You can read those stones, can’t you?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You stiffened. The question sent a shiver through your spine, a fleeting reminder of the secret you kept buried deep within. You didn’t answer. Not immediately.

She smiled, soft and knowing, her eyes never leaving yours. “We’ll talk later.”

Zoro, ever the brooding figure, glanced at you and muttered under his breath, “You don’t look dangerous.” It seemed like a funny thing to say, considering he had just been trying to slice a boulder in half mere moments earlier.

It didn’t take long for you to realize what was happening: You were trapped in their orbit. In their madness. In their chaos.

And you couldn’t have been more content.

The Thousand Sunny became your new home—bright, loud, and utterly unpredictable.

Sanji insisted on cooking you all your meals. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—each time, his cooking came with a full-on serenade, and if you didn’t finish your plate, he might just shed a tear. “It’s not just food,” he’d say. “It’s love. It’s my soul in a dish!”

Nami dragged you into shopping sprees with no regard for your dwindling supplies or your protestations. “You need to look fabulous, Y/N. Don’t you want to blend in with the rest of us?” she’d tease, while tossing a dozen new outfits into your arms. You always ended up spending more than you intended, but there was something so infectious about her enthusiasm that you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Robin was the one who quietly fascinated you. You’d find her at all hours of the day, absorbed in reading a book or studying the surroundings with quiet intensity. There was something about the way she looked at you, like she already knew your secrets but would never pry.

And then there was Luffy. Always smiling. Always laughing. He treated you as though you were already part of the crew. No pretense, no hesitation. You didn’t even need to be invited. You were just… in.

“Wanna ride on top of the mast?” Luffy asked one morning, as casually as if he were asking if you wanted a snack.

You stared up at the towering mast, then back at him. “Is that… safe?”

“Nope! shishishi” he beamed, looking excited about the prospect.

Somehow, that made it make sense to climb up there with him. He helped you up like it was nothing, laughing all the while. The wind whipped through your hair, and for the first time in a long while, you felt alive. You weren’t just existing anymore.

Zoro, ever the silent guardian, began training near you. You noticed him constantly observing your movements, his gaze intense but not unwelcome. One day, you lost your footing on deck, but before you could even react, his hand shot out and steadied you.

He didn’t say much, just stared at you for a moment, before clearing his throat and muttering, “Watch your step, dumbass.”

Romance, clearly.

It crept in slowly. Unnoticed, at first.

Sanji’s compliments, light-hearted at first, began to hold a different weight. “You look beautiful today, Y/N~chwann” he’d say with a soft smile, not just as a joke, but as something that meant more.

Nami’s teasing turned into lingering glances, moments where her eyes softened when she thought no one was looking.

Robin’s hand on yours during those quiet late-night reading sessions made your heart skip a beat, like it was a shared secret, a connection you didn’t have the words to describe.

Zoro’s silence, once intimidating, became your comfort. When he was near, you didn’t need to talk. You didn’t need to explain yourself. He was just there, a steady presence.

And Luffy’s laughter—oh, Luffy’s laughter. It started to feel like home, like the sound of safety, of warmth. A constant reminder that with him around, there was nothing to fear.

But you kept your secret.

That was until one night, when you and Robin stood over a relic you had no business being near. It was buried deep beneath the cursed island’s soil, half-buried like a forgotten truth. Robin stood behind you, arms crossed, waiting for you to decipher it. You already knew what it would say, but that didn’t stop the rush of dread that surged within you as your fingers traced the ancient glyphs.

“You know what it says, don’t you?” Robin’s voice was barely a whisper. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

You stiffened.

“It’s just a story,” you muttered, voice low.

Robin smiled, a soft and knowing smile, one that suggested she understood far more than she let on. “Then you should know—they’d kill you for it.”

You didn’t answer, didn’t have the words. You just continued to trace the lines, the ancient language flowing effortlessly from your mind, sinking into the earth beneath your fingertips.

Everything changed when you found the half-buried Poneglyph on a cursed island.

It was a trap. Not for Luffy. Not for the Pirate King in the making.

For you.

You read the stone aloud, your voice quiet, shaking slightly. And for the first time in your life, the stone responded.

The words were not just etched into stone, not just an inscription—it was a message. A message that burned through the world like a beacon.

“The last of the Whisperers,” it said. “Hunted. Hidden. Forbidden.”

The ground shook. The air turned electric. The Poneglyphs around you shimmered, the glyphs becoming light, illuminating the island with a soft, ethereal glow.

The Straw Hats arrived just as you stumbled backward, your eyes wide, heart pounding, the power coursing through you like an uncontrollable force. The glyphs pulsed, and the power in your veins burned bright.

“What’s happening?!” Usopp screamed, looking ready to fight a ghost.

You looked at them—at your crew—and whispered, “They were hunting us. People who could read these stones. I shouldn’t exist.”

There was silence.

Then Luffy stepped forward, his voice unwavering, “You’re not alone.”

The Marines came shortly after.

You fought, of course you did.

For the first time in your life, you let the power in your blood surge freely. The words of the stone became light, flames of energy erupting from the ground as you slashed through the battlefield, carving the very earth with your newfound strength. You cracked the island’s crust. You didn’t even know you could do that.

Sanji’s hand grabbed yours as the ground beneath you cracked, pulling you from the collapsing cliff. Zoro fought beside you, silent and determined. Robin’s steady hand on yours kept you grounded in the chaos.

When the battle was over, and the last Marine had been driven back, you passed out.

You woke in the infirmary, Chopper hovering over you, his worried eyes darting around like he was waiting for you to disappear again. Franky was sitting beside you, sobbing into a bowl of soup.

“You scared us, you moron,” Nami whispered, brushing your hair back from your face. Her voice was soft, a rare tenderness that made your heart ache.

Robin kissed your temple as she hovered over you, whispering, “You’re more than your gift.”

Sanji didn’t say anything, but his presence was unmistakable. He curled up beside you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder, a silent vow of protection.

Zoro sat across from you, cleaning his swords. “Don’t ever do that alone again.”

And Luffy… Luffy beamed at you, that infectious smile lighting up his face as he exclaimed, “You’re stuck with us forever now!”

The tension unraveled like fraying rope.

Nami kissed you when you least expected it, quick and teasing, a spark of affection.

Robin kissed you in the library, with parchment between your hands, and the world felt like it stopped turning for a moment.

Sanji kissed you with all the intensity of someone who had been waiting for years, every touch filled with longing.

Zoro kissed you like it was the only thing that made sense, his hands warm and steady.

And Luffy—Luffy’s kiss was upside down, playful, and completely unexpected, but perfect in the way only Luffy could be.

Usopp ran away screaming, “AAAH! ROMANCE ATTACK!”

Chopper fainted. Twice.

Brook played a love song with three verses about your “sultry stare” that made everyone uncomfortable except Sanji, who wept.

Franky asked if you wanted to build a heart-shaped cannon to “blast your feelings at the world.” You said yes. It now sits in the garden.

Jinbei just gave you a nod and said, “It’s about time.”

You weren’t a secret anymore.

You were theirs.

Not claimed, not owned—but cherished. Loved, wholly and fiercely.

And though the world may hunt you, you had a crew that would burn it down before they let anyone take you.

#one piece x y/n #one piece #one piece x reader #luffy #strawhat pirates #nami #roronoa zoro #fluff #nico robin #sanji #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #oc #idk man #one piece x you #Spotify

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luveline · 2 years ago

Note

I read the Derek and Spencer fainting bit and now I want to complete it with Hotch :)))

If that’s alright of course…

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Aaron knows you harbour more affection for him than anyone else on the team, which is a true compliment to him, as you adore Spencer. He can never tell if you're friendly or loving, if you want some or all or nothing, the line between you blurred.

When Morgan and Garcia first began their flirtatious friendship, Aaron thought they were seeing each other on the sly for a whole fortnight. He's a profiler, but he doesn't know everything.

He does, however, know that something is wrong with you today. Hand held up over your eyes, you squint out over the crime scene with a wrinkled nose. The lakeside smells as bad as it looks with gore blackening the surrounding grass. He's been telling you for months to get some shades. You've been ignoring his advice.

Your disapproval of the smell is normal. Your unsure footing is not. You take his forearm when he offers it and step across the muddy bank to the body without audible complaint, though you give him a 'this fucking sucks' narrowing of the eyes when he gives you the time.

"Agent Hotchner," a deputy greets, "Agent L/N. We found the second body here. Bystanders pulled the first out thinking she was still alive, but that was unfortunately not the case."

You shift unprofessionally close to Aaron. He doesn't really care. The sheriff barely looks at you both, his attention on the corpse hidden between overgrown cattails.

Aaron hates to admit that he gives you more of his attention than is helpful. You seem odd. Call it intuition, call it plain old profiling, Aaron reads the next minute of events in the smallest twitch of your finger.

You put your hand on his back and he doesn't think, he just grabs you. The sheriff deputy startles as you fold over Aaron's arm like a marionette with strings sliced, exhaling hard as your body does its best to hit the grass beneath your feet.

"Agent L/N!" The deputy yelps.

"I got her," Aaron says, easing you down to the ground. He keeps a hand behind your head to lay you down flat, the other quick to leap from your side to your cheek. You'll likely have bruises in the shape of his hands at your waist. "Y/N?"

He rubs his thumb under your eye. Quick, he leans down with an ear to your lips and relaxes at the sound of your shallow breathing. He pulls away, resting a hand atop your chest.

"Can you hear me?" he asks, conscious of and ignoring the copious pairs of eyes watching over you.

You don't respond. Aaron goes into emergency mode, flagging down a cop who races for a paramedic, hands at your throat unbuttoning the first button on your blouse, the second in an overabundance of caution.

"Y/N, if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that?" His tone wavers somewhere between demanding and desperate. "Come on. Come on."

Fainting is one thing. Fainting with no signs of dehydration and little sun exposure is another, especially considering you hadn't moved from one position to another. You've passed out with no obvious cause. Any number of things could be wrong.

He doesn't slap you —it works in the movies and not often elsewhere. In fact, Aaron finds himself at the opposite end of the spectrum. Patient outwardly and insanely panicked on the inside, he holds your face in his hand and waits for someone to tell him you're alright.

Your breath catches, your head lolling into his palm. He straightens it, weary of your airways. "Y/N? Tell me you can hear me."

The whirlwind of your fall and the eternity of your recovery has him holding his breath.

"I can hear you," you mumble, again attempting to turn your head. He lets you this time. He's so relieved, he'd let you do anything.

He fights the urge to shout, Where's the medic? instead following your face, tilting his head to the side. "Open your eyes, honey," he murmurs, for your ears alone.

Your lashes twitch against his pinky index finger. You frown as though you're in pain and finally rouse to attention.

"What hurts?" he asks, brows furrowed.

"Nothing hurts…" Your frown worsens. "You look really unhappy."

"I'm not ecstatic about this," he says. He gives in, shouting, "Where's the medic?"

"Oh, no, please," you say, trying to sit up, "that is so embarrassing."

Aaron pushes you flat to the grass beneath you. "Stop, you need to stay flat. You passed out. This is the solution–" He puts his hand flat over your chest as you put in some effort. "Hey, this is what you need to do. Listen to me, agent."

"What happened to honey?" you ask quietly.

"That's when you were doing what I wanted."

You close your eyes in a faux strop. "I guess I'll have to do what you want more often, sir."

"That's enough." He sounds fond. Why does he sound so fond?

The deputy clears his throat. "Paramedics are here."

You groan. Aaron hides a smile. Through everything, his hand has stayed on your cheek. He doesn't pull it away until he absolutely has to, and even then, he holds some part of you. Your elbow, your wrist. He has the sense to be sheepish about it when the paramedic ushers him back, but even then, he's thinking about when he'll get to touch you next; he needs the assurance that you're okay.

He gets it a half hour later when you're sipping on a gatorade in the back of an SUV.

"Do I still get paid for today?" you ask, smiling playfully. "Or is this a write off?"

He wants to joke about it with you, but there's work to be done. He sends you back to the hotel with a frankly unprofessional hug and a demand to take it easy. He's sure you'll be back stepping on his heels by late afternoon.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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elryuse · 9 months ago

Text

I'm sorry, Can I Be Yours

Winter X Male Reader

Tags : Childhood Friends, Friends To Lovers, Kiss, Teasing, Fluff, Virgin Sex, Creampie, Good Ending?

The School bell blared, jolting me out of my reverie. I scanned the emptying hallway, searching for Winter's familiar pearly blonde hair. My stomach clenched when I spotted her surrounded by her posse, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Winter, the girl who used to chase butterflies with me at recess, now seemed like a distant star, dazzling yet untouchable.

It wasn't always like this. Back in elementary school, Winter, or Minjeong as I called her then, was the new kid, a shy sparrow adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces. I, the self-proclaimed schoolyard ambassador, had swooped in, determined to be her friend. We were an unlikely pair – me, the rambunctious chatterbox, and her, the quiet observer with eyes that held galaxies within them. But somehow, it clicked. We built sandcastles that defied the tide, shared scraped knees and ice cream cones, our laughter echoing through the playground.

High school, however, had cast a long shadow over our friendship. Winter blossomed into an ethereal beauty, her smile lighting up every room she entered. Admirers swarmed around her like bees to a rose, and her schedule became a whirlwind of student council meetings, dance practices, and social gatherings. I, on the other hand, remained comfortably obscure, content with the company of my camera and a well-worn book.

The distance wasn't physical, not yet. We still sat together at lunch, a forced routine amidst the chaos. But the easy conversations, the comfortable silences, those had become a distant memory. Now, an awkward tension hung between us, a chasm filled with unspoken words and longing glances that pierced my heart.

One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter was surrounded by her usual crowd, their voices a flurry of excitement about the upcoming school festival. I stole a glance at her, my heart sinking at the coldness in her eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that used to reside there.

"Hey, Winter," I began hesitantly, my voice barely a whisper above the din. "They were talking about volunteers for the photography booth at the festival. You know I take a decent picture or two."

A flicker of something, maybe annoyance, crossed her features before she schooled her expression into a polite smile.

"Oh, right," she said, her voice devoid of its usual enthusiasm. "Yeah, maybe you can help out. Hana mentioned you were good with that camera of yours."

The casual dismissal stung. Hana? We hadn't discussed the festival, and the way Winter phrased it made it seem like it was Hana's idea, not mine. I forced a smile, the bitterness clinging to my tongue.

"Sure," I mumbled, pushing my untouched lunch tray away. "Just let me know what needs to be done."

The rest of the lunch break passed in a blur of forced conversation and stolen glances. As the final bell rang, I gathered my things, the weight of our strained friendship heavy on my chest. Winter barely acknowledged me as she swept out of the classroom, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Was this the end of our story? The question echoed in the empty classroom, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between us.

The following week, a new face appeared in our homeroom class. A girl with long, flowing black hair and a face that could launch a thousand ships, but her posture screamed timidity. She shuffled in, her eyes downcast, avoiding eye contact with the sea of curious faces. The usual welcoming chatter died down, replaced by a tense silence.

As the teacher droned on about expectations and school policies, I couldn't help but steal glances at the new girl. Her name was Lee Seo-Ah, according to the attendance sheet. Unlike Winter, who captivated the room with her mere presence, Seo-Ah seemed to shrink into herself, disappearing into the background.

A pang of sympathy stabbed at my heart. I remembered all too well the awkwardness of being the new kid, the crushing loneliness of trying to navigate unfamiliar territory. Winter, once the shy newcomer, had effortlessly blossomed into the center of attention. Seo-Ah, on the other hand, seemed trapped in a shell of her own making.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, the usual flurry of introductions and small talk began. But Seo-Ah remained isolated, a solitary island amidst a bustling sea. I couldn't just stand by and watch.

Taking a deep breath, I approached her desk, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs. "Hi, I'm Y/n," I said, offering a friendly smile. "Welcome to our school."

Seo-Ah looked up, startled, her eyes wide and filled with a flicker of surprise. For a moment, she didn't speak, then a shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"H-hi," she finally mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm Seo-Ah. It's... nice to meet you."

Her shyness was endearing, a stark contrast to the usual boisterousness of the classroom. "Seems like you're new here," I continued, hoping to ease the tension. "Anything I can help you with?"

Seo-Ah hesitated, then bit her lip. "Well, I'm a bit lost. I don't know where my next class is."

Relief washed over me. "No problem at all. I have the same class next. Let me show you the way."

As we walked down the hallway, Seo-Ah spoke in hushed tones, her words punctuated by long pauses. She told me she was from Busan, a coastal city known for its seafood and beaches. She loved art, particularly painting, but was too shy to join any clubs.

I listened intently, offering words of encouragement and pointing out landmarks along the way. To my surprise, Seo-Ah slowly began to open up, her voice gaining a hint of confidence. By the time we reached her next class, a hesitant smile played on her lips.

"Thanks, Y/n," she said, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"No worries at all," I replied, a genuine warmth spreading through my chest. "Welcome to the group, Seo-Ah."

Perhaps, in helping Seo-Ah find her way, I had also found a way to bridge the growing distance between myself and Winter. After all, kindness, like a pebble tossed into a still pond, could create ripples that reached far and wide.

A couple of weeks flew by in a whirlwind of activity. During lunch breaks, I found myself gravitating towards Seo-Ah, her infectious laugh and bubbly personality a welcome change from the strained atmosphere I shared with Winter. We'd discuss everything under the sun – from her passion for painting to the latest K-pop group she was obsessed with. Slowly, her shyness melted away, replaced by a comfortable openness.

One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter caught me engrossed in a conversation with Seo-Ah. Her expression was unreadable, but a flicker of something, maybe jealousy, crossed her features for a fleeting moment before she masked it with a polite smile.

"Looks like you've made a new friend, Y/n," she said, her voice cool and detached.

"Y-yeah," I replied, trying to keep the awkwardness at bay. "Seo-Ah just transferred from Busan. We get along pretty well."

Winter simply nodded, her gaze lingering on Seo-Ah for a beat too long before she turned away to continue her conversation with Hana. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the easy banter I shared with Seo-Ah.

During that week, I discovered another one of Seo-Ah's talents. While helping her unpack her art supplies after school, she pulled out a sketchbook filled with breathtaking landscapes and portraits. My jaw dropped in awe.

"Wow, Seo-Ah, these are amazing!" I exclaimed, flipping through the pages. "You're incredibly talented."

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Thanks, Y/n. I actually joined the art club this week. They seemed really nice."

A surge of excitement coursed through me. "That's fantastic! Maybe we can even work on some projects together sometime. I'm in the photography club, and we're always looking for new angles and perspectives."

Her eyes lit up. "R-really? That sounds awesome!"

Over the next few days, Seo-Ah and I spent our free time bouncing ideas off each other. We'd discuss light and shadow, composition, and the emotions a photograph or painting could evoke. With her, there was none of the awkward silences or unspoken expectations that had infiltrated my relationship with Winter. It felt… easy, comfortable.

Meanwhile, the distance between Winter and me continued to widen. Our conversations were short and superficial, filled with long pauses and forced smiles. I missed our late-afternoon talks, the way we could just sit in comfortable silence, knowing each other's thoughts without needing to speak them. But Winter was a whirlwind of student council meetings and social gatherings now, leaving me feeling like an outsider peering into a world I no longer belonged to.

One Friday afternoon, while Seo-Ah and I were discussing camera settings in the library, Winter approached our table, her face etched with a forced smile.

"Hey, Y/n," she said, her voice clipped. "Just wanted to let you know there's a student council meeting this evening. You're… welcome to join."

Her words felt like an afterthought, an obligation rather than an invitation. Seo-Ah, sensing the tension, chimed in.

"Oh, a student council meeting? That sounds important. You should definitely go, Y/n."

Winter's smile faltered for a second, then she straightened her shoulders. "Yeah, sure," she said, her gaze flickering to Seo-Ah before darting away. "See you guys later."

As she walked away, a knot of frustration tightened in my stomach. Was I missing something here? Did Winter feel threatened by Seo-Ah's presence? Or was it simply a case of her being too busy with her own things to acknowledge our dwindling friendship?

Stepping into the student council meeting room felt like entering a different world. The air crackled with nervous energy, students flitting around finalizing decorations and posters. Minjeong, usually radiating icy efficiency, seemed to have a vibrant life of her own here. Her voice, sharp and clear as she addressed the room, held an undeniable power.

I found myself an empty chair at the back, feeling strangely out of place amidst all the organized chaos. The topic of the meeting – the upcoming school fireworks festival – was a whirlwind of budgets, logistics, and safety regulations. Hana, Minjeong's ever-reliable vice president, rattled off numbers with laser focus, while Minjeong herself managed the discussion with a firm but encouraging demeanor.

As the meeting progressed, I stole glances at Minjeong. The fierce, focused leader I witnessed was so different from the quiet girl who had been my best friend. A pang of longing crossed my chest for those simpler times. Then, our eyes met.

Caught off guard, Minjeong's gaze flickered for a moment before she looked away, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks. A shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a fleeting glimpse of the girl I knew beneath the student council president facade. The warmth of that smile sent a jolt through me. Was there still hope for us?

Suddenly, Hana's voice cut through my contemplation. "So, who's up for grabbing some pizza after this? We've still got hours of work to do before the week's out."

A chorus of groans and cheers filled the room. Minjeong chuckled, a soft sound that seemed foreign on her focused face. "Sounds good, Hana. But make it quick, alright? We don't want to be here all night."

As the meeting wrapped up, the room buzzed with newfound energy. Students piled into a corner, chatting excitedly about pizza toppings and movie plans. I hesitated, unsure of my place in this world.

"Y/n?" Minjeong's voice caught my attention. She stood at the front of the room, her gaze hesitant but inviting. "You coming to pizza night?"

The question hung in the air, a test of the fragile thread that still connected us. My heart pounded in my chest. This could be a step forward, a chance to bridge the gap that had grown between us. Or it could be a painful reminder of how far things had changed.

I looked at Minjeong, her eyes filled with a nervous anticipation that mirrored my own. Taking a deep breath, I offered a smile, the same shy smile we used to share in elementary school.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice a little rough around the edges. "I'd like that."

A genuine smile, bright and unreserved, broke across Minjeong's face. It was a small step, a single word in a long conversation, but for the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope ignited within me. Perhaps, amidst the chaos of student council meetings and new friendships, there was still a place for us, for the bond we once shared.

Stepping into the bustling pizza parlor, I was greeted by the aroma of melted cheese and bubbling tomato sauce. Minjeong's friends, a vibrant bunch I only recognized from school hallways, were already digging into their slices, their laughter a welcome counterpoint to the tense atmosphere of the meeting earlier.

Minjeong, perched at the end of a long table, her cheeks flushed with a hint of nervous excitement, spotted me. A radiant smile broke across her face, chasing away the serious leader persona from before. She patted the seat next to her, a silent invitation.

As I settled in, a chorus of curious glances and playful nudges fell upon me. A girl with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin leaned forward.

"So, Y/n," she began, her voice dripping with friendly interrogation, "how long have you known our Minjeong? Spill the secrets of your epic friendship!"

A wave of heat flooded Minjeong's cheeks, her cheeks turning the color of the pepperoni slices on the table. She mumbled something inaudible under her breath, burying her face in her pizza slice. I chuckled, the sound warming the air.

"Well Actually," I said, taking a bite of my own pizza, "we go way back. All the way back to elementary school."

A collective gasp escaped the group. Stories of elementary school crushes and childhood sweethearts circulated with wide-eyed wonder. Seeing Minjeong squirm under the spotlight only endeared her to me even more.

"She was this shy little thing," I continued, my voice filled with a smile, "always hiding behind her art folders. I just decided she needed a friend and dragged her into all sorts of adventures."

Minjeong peeked at me over her pizza slice, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of shyness and amusement. My heart stuttered in my chest. Even after all this time, her gaze still held the power to send butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"And did those adventures include falling head over heels for each other?" one of the guys piped up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The question hung heavy in the air. A long silence stretched, broken only by the clinking of silverware and the murmur of conversation. I met Minjeong's gaze, a silent conversation unfolding between us.

"I…," I hesitated, taking a deep breath. "The truth is, Minjeong has always been special to me. Ever since that first day in elementary school, there was something about her. Her quiet strength, her kindness, her way of seeing the world through those incredible eyes."

Minjeong's entire face turned crimson, her lips forming a silent "wow." The rest of the table, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, remained silent, their eyes shifting between us with anticipation.

"And you, Y/n?" Minjeong finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. "Do you still feel the same way?"

"More than you know," I said, my voice sincere. "Seeing you all grown up, this amazing leader everyone admires… it just makes me realize how much I care about you."

The moment stretched, charged with unspoken emotions. Then, with a roar of approval, Minjeong's friends erupted in cheers.

"Oh my god, you guys are perfect for each other!"

"Finally! It was about time someone confessed!"

Minjeong, overwhelmed by the sudden outburst, hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with a mixture of shyness and laughter. My own heart pounded with a mixture of hope and disbelief. Could this really be happening?

As the cheers subsided, a shy smile peeked out from behind Minjeong's hands. Looking at me, her eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. Was it fear? Joy? Relief?

"Well, Y/n," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It seems like you spilled the biggest secret of all."

I grinned, leaning closer. "Only the one I felt was most important."

The rest of the night was a blur of happy chatter, shared stories, and stolen glances. The seeds of doubt I'd harbored for weeks began to fade, replaced by a warm flicker of hope. Perhaps, amidst the changing tides of high school, our childhood connection could blossom into something more. As we walked home under the soft glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between us, a silence that spoke volumes more than words ever could. Maybe, just maybe, our story wasn't over yet.

As we strolled away from the pizza parlor, the streetlights cast soft yellow pools on the sidewalk. The air was thick with the unspoken words that hung between us. Finally, Minjeong broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper.

"Y/n," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Do you… hate me?"

The question struck me like a physical blow. Hate her? The girl who had been my closest companion, my confidante? It was a ridiculous notion.

"Why would I hate you?" I asked gently, my voice laced with concern.

"For everything," she mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. "For how I treated you these past three years. For being so cold and distant."

I stopped walking, turning to face her. Minjeong's face was illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Minjeong-Ah, listen to me," I said, cupping her face in my hands. "You were focused on school, student council, all those responsibilities. It's natural. You've become this amazing leader, kind and strong. I could never hate you for that."

She shook her head, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "But you must have felt so alone. Like I replaced you."

"It wasn't like that," I assured her, wiping away the stray tear with my thumb. "It just… it's a shame we drifted apart. I miss the talks we used to have, the silly jokes, the shared dreams."

A sob escaped her lips, and she buried her face in my chest. Tears soaked through my shirt as she held onto me for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n," she cried, her voice muffled against my chest. "I'm such an idiot. Seo-Ah is great, and I'm happy she has a friend, but… but you're different. You've always been different."

My heart ached for her, for the pain she had unknowingly inflicted. "Seo-Ah's a friend," I said, stroking her hair soothingly. "But you, Minjeong… you're so much more."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "More?"

"We grew up together," I continued, my voice soft. "We shared secrets, dreams, a lifetime of memories. Seo-Ah may be a new chapter, but you… you're the whole book."

Tears streamed down her face, each one a silent apology. "I-i messed up," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "The thought of losing you to someone else… it scared me to death. But I was too scared to admit it, too scared to even talk to you."

Understanding dawned on me. Her coldness, her distance, it was all a misguided attempt to protect herself from the possibility of losing our bond. The irony wasn't lost on me – her actions had almost achieved the very outcome she feared.

Enfolding her in a hug once more, I whispered into her hair, "It's okay, Minjeong. We can start over. Together."

Her body trembled against mine, a mixture of relief and hope washing over her. The night was filled with apologies, whispered confessions, and the bittersweet promise of a new beginning. We walked hand in hand, not as childhood friends, but as something more, something that transcended labels. We walked, not just towards her house, but towards a future we would write together, a future where communication replaced silence, and where the warmth of our friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful.

The walk to Minjeong's house felt different under the soft glow of the streetlights. The air, once thick with unspoken words, now crackled with a nervous energy, a budding promise. As we reached her doorstep, the weight of the emotional rollercoaster we'd just been on settled in.

Minjeong, sniffling and wiping away the last of her tears, looked at me with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. "Would you… would you like to stay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Staying the night at her place felt like venturing into uncharted territory. Was it too soon? Yet, the thought of leaving her on such a vulnerable note felt unbearable.

"I… I don't know," I stammered, unsure of the protocol for such a situation.

Tears welled up in her eyes again, threatening to spill over. "Please, Y/n," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

My resolve crumbled. How could I say no to those tear-filled eyes, to the raw vulnerability she was displaying? "Okay," I sighed, offering her a weak smile. "I'll stay."

Relief washed over her face, a radiant smile replacing the tear tracks. She fumbled with her keys, finally unlocking the door and ushering me inside.

The familiar scent of her home, a mixture of lavender and something vaguely sweet, instantly transported me back to our childhood sleepovers. As I entered her bedroom, the floodgates of nostalgia opened.

The walls were adorned with a tapestry of our shared history – a photo of us grinning goofily at a carnival, a drawing we'd made together during a rainy afternoon, a faded ticket stub from that time we snuck into a movie. Every picture, every memento, whispered of a friendship that had weathered storms, unspoken yet understood.

A choked sob escaped Minjeong's lips as she noticed my gaze tracing the memories on the wall. "It's… it's like a museum in here," she sniffled, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

I walked over to her, my heart overflowing with a cocktail of emotions. "It's beautiful," I whispered, reaching out to touch a photo of us on our first day of elementary school. "A reminder of everything we've been through."

Minjeong's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. As if making a sudden decision, she began to slowly undress, her movements filled with a nervous anticipation.

Shock momentarily paralyzed me. "Minjeong-Ah?" I stammered, unsure of how to interpret her actions.

She looked at me, her eyes shimmering with a newfound courage. "Y/n," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "I know this might seem crazy, but… all this time, all I ever wanted was you."

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken desires. Before I could respond, she leaned in, hesitantly at first, then with a growing sense of urgency. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was both tentative and filled with a desperate longing.

It was a kiss that tasted of tearful apologies, unspoken confessions, and the bittersweet joy of a rekindled connection. In that kiss, we bridged the gap of lost years, the unspoken words replaced by a silent promise of a future we would write together.

Pulling away, breathless and a little dazed, we stared into each other's eyes. They held a newfound depth, a reflection of the emotions we had shared.

"Minjeong-Ah," I finally managed to breathe, my voice thick with emotion. "I… I thought I'd lost you."

"Me too," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy. "But we're here now, Y/n. And this time," she continued, a determined glint in her eyes, "I'm not letting go."

Hearing those words, I immediately kissed her again. This time with so much passion and hunger to love her even more. minjeong share to play with my tounge,Something that I didn't know she would ever learned.

"M-minjeong-Ah.. You're so pretty". I blurted out, My words of praise basically flies out on its own. Minjeong blushes, Before planting another kiss to my lips. Her soft and plump lips, a cushion to my own.

"I-i want to try it... I-i want to do it with you Y/n". Minjeong blushes, Her hands touching the entrance of her now wet pussy. I blushed deeply, Not expecting that we'll come this far.

But I now know, that we are meant for each other. We both loved each other. I promised, I would never let her down anymore. I would love her with all of my heart.

"I-i'm putting it in Minjeong-Ah. Tell me if it hurts okay"? I gently caresses her face. As I started to slowly thrust my dick into her pussy, Minjeong immediately moaned, Her body trembling, as her hole started to widen, and not long after that. I have successfully inserted my whole dick deep into her pussy. As her hymen broke, Blood soon come out. I panicked, Asking Minjeong if she's alright.

She seemed to be trembling, and crying. I tried to pull back. But minjeong yelled "Noo.. Don't pull it out... I-i can handle it".

I hesitated, I didn't want this experience to hurt her. I explained it to her, that she doesn't need to force herself, and we can take it slowly. But to my suprise, Minjeong push me back, before straddling me.

"No.. No.. I want this.. I need this... Please don't leave me Y/n... I can handle this.. So please... caressing my face let me pleasure you". I immediately blushed hearing those words coming from her mouth. In the end I nodded, Letting her know I'll do it.

Minjeong started to move her hips slowly, Adjusting to the pain and pleasure that her body is currently having. And after a while, She finally found her pace and started to move faster and faster. We both moaned at how good this feels, And I just can't help but to admire her fit body, and her beautiful pair of tits.

"I-i know it's not the biggest... B-but.. Please love them". Minjeong blushes, as she turns her head around. I giggled before planting a kiss to her tits. Admiring them for how perfect they were. Mineong immediately smiled, Before planting another kiss to my lips.

After a while, I felt like I was near to reach my orgasm. As I saw Minjeong Continue swaying her hips, Something took over me and I gently put Minjeong into a missionary position. Minjeong legs immediately craddled surrounding my body, as her legs tightened. Her hand gripped the back of my body, As I kept on kissing her heck.

"Y/n!!! Y/n.. I'm close.. Fuck.. I'm so close..". Minjeong cried, as The pleasure was too much for the both of us. I told her that I'm also close.

"Shoot it inside me... I-it's okay... I want it..".

"W-whatt! No we can't... It's too dangerous minjeong... I'll shoot it outside".

"Noooo.. Please... I want your cum... Please... ".

As minjeong kept begging, and as I closely reached my limit. I can't help but to shoot my seed deep within her womb. As I did this, Minjeong moaned and tightly held me. Our body trembled in pleasure, and we finally reached our euphoria together.

After panting a while, We both Chukled before kissing each other for the last time, as we finally fell asleep. We held each other close, our bodies radiating a warmth that chased away the chill of the night. The room filled with the sound of our gentle breaths and the soft thudding of our hearts, a symphony of rediscovered love and a promise of a future where childhood friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful and everlasting.

Sunlight streamed through the window, painting golden stripes across Minjeong's face. She stirred, a sleepy smile curving her lips. Glancing beside her, she found me still nestled in the sheets, the events of last night replaying vividly in her mind. A blush crept up her cheeks as she remembered the passionate confessions and rekindled love that had blossomed under her very roof.

"Y/n," she whispered, nudging me gently. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

I groaned playfully, pulling the covers over my head for a moment longer. "Five more minutes?" I mumbled, the warmth of the sheets and the memory of Minjeong close beside me making it hard to leave.

She chuckled, a sound like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze. "Not a chance, sleepyhead. We have a whole day of classes and stolen glances ahead of us."

Her words were a sweet melody to my ears. Sitting up, I stretched, my gaze lingering on her. "Thank you, Minjeong-Ah," I said, my voice husky with sleep and unspoken emotions.

"For what?" she asked, tilting her head.

"For everything," I replied, cupping her face in my hands and leaning in for a soft kiss. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes of the renewed connection we shared.

The morning unfolded in a whirlwind of hurried breakfasts, stolen kisses in between brushing teeth, and nervous excitement as we walked to school together, hand in hand. As we reached our classroom, I was met with a concerned Seo-Ah, her eyes wide with worry.

"Y/n!" she exclaimed, rushing over. "Where have you been? I texted and called you a million times; I was scared something happened!"

My heart twinged with a pang of guilt. Seo-Ah's genuine concern warmed me, and I realized how much I valued our friendship. With a sheepish grin, I turned to Minjeong, taking her hand in mine.

"Seo-Ah," I began, my voice laced with a newfound confidence, "there's something I need to tell you. Minjeong and I… we're a couple now."

Seo-Ah's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of sadness flitting across her face for a fleeting moment. But then, a genuine smile bloomed on her lips.

"Oh wow," she said, her voice filled with unexpected joy. "Congratulations, you two! I always thought you had a special connection."

Relief flooded me. I was worried how Seo-Ah would react, but her understanding and well-wishes warmed the air.

The rest of the day was a blur of excited whispers from classmates, stolen glances across the classroom, and the thrill of a newfound love. After school, Minjeong and I decided to celebrate. We walked hand-in-hand down a street lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate pink petals showering us like confetti.

"This feels like a dream," Minjeong whispered, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"A dream I never want to wake up from," I replied, squeezing her hand.

We stopped at a quaint ice cream shop, the aroma of sweet waffle cones wafting through the air. We ordered our favorite flavors, sharing bites and laughing like children. As we savored the cool treat, I realized that sometimes, the most unexpected detours lead us to the sweetest destinations.

Looking into Minjeong's eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within them, I knew that our story was far from over. It was a story of friendship, of rediscovery, and of a love that had weathered the storms of time and finally blossomed into something beautiful. And as we walked into the sunset, hand in hand, with the promise of forever etched in our hearts, I knew this was just the beginning of our happily ever after.

The End

A/n : Hey Guys, Elryuse here. just want to say, This is probably one of my favorite stories/fics that I've ever written so far. The characterization of Winter/Minjeong really fit in this story. But I have to say, Justice for the Seo-Ah man. Initially, In my first draft of the story, Seo-Ah would be a contender for Winter, However while I was writing, I think this is for the best. So I settled for her losing quicker in the story.

And I wanted to apologize to some of you guys, who have requested for a fics, But I'm currently focusing my priority for my ko-fi fans and for people who ordered fics personally. But don't be sad, I would still definitely do some of your requests y'all. Hope you enjoyed this story guys. 🤗

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sweetsaladpainterranch · 2 months ago

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An Indecent Proposal

***

You had shown up to the Hazbin Hotel as a party of two, having been 2 months pregnant when you were killed. You resembled most of your human features except for a pair of tall velvet ears and a small tail that has a mind of its own. You were a deer demon which made you constantly cautious about everything and anyone that happened to cross your path. Especially so now as you knew that both the freakin Princess of Hell and The Radio Demon resided at this hotel, but you had seen the tv interview a few weeks before and it made you think that maybe she was different. Having only been in Hell about a month beforehand, your constant nausea had kept you from even attempting to brave the outside of the tiny box apartment you lucked into.

Thus, here you were, knocking on the giant ornate front door and listening to the incoming stampede, you nearly backtracked down the entrance steps. However, before you could decide to bolt, a blonde whirlwind swept you inside and into the bright lobby harboring a circle of demons already. Once the introductions had been made, you took off the large overcoat you had been wearing and were met by shocked expressions.

"Oh", you tried to explain, "yeah, apparently when you're pregnant in Hell you get terrible cold flashes. Ironic right?" Also, you needed to conceal your condition from any freak who might see you as a two-for-one meal.

The only response you received was the continued open-mouthed and wide-eyed looks from your new house (hotel?) mates until Charlie finally piped up.

"It's already so late. Why don't we take care of the tour and paperwork tomorrow so if you follow-"

"How in the underworld did a sinner get pregnant??!", Angel practically knocked Charlie over as he burst towards you in a frenzy of questions about your pregnancy and recent death. It was pretty obvious after your fall into Hell that reproducing only worked for Hellborn kind. (Usually).

You sat heavily on one of the lobby couches and rubbed your aching, swollen feet as you began your backstory.

Your previous life wasn't as exciting as being a slick thief or an edgy serial killer but you enjoyed your job as a maid for a beautiful estate in the countryside of Savannah, Georgia. At least until you caught the eye of the mansion's owner and were immediately (threatened) convinced to become his side chick for the next few months while the lady of the house was away in Atlanta. As if that wasn't enough of a stereotype, a maid doing her flipping boss, you were soon knocked up and surprise surprise no one was particularly excited.

"You naughty pixie!", Angel interrupted, "My kind of girl." He smiled widely at you with a wink but Vaggie slapped him on the back of the head and encouraged you to continue.

You explained that your boss was highly expectant of abortion, but you were not going to give up the only piece of blood-related family you'd ever known. However, when you said as much as your boss' wife strode into the conversation and (guilted) invited you on a walk through the nearby willow grove. Oh boy...you had a terrible feeling but it was the 21st century, so the worst that was coming was a few insults about your promiscuity and being fired.

Turns out your gut was on point. Not even a mile into the woods you heard a pistol's slide snap back and you only had time to catch the sneer on that bitch's face before you took off. But you were never good with coordination so you fell almost immediately. Dammit! Luckily, the rich mess also had on incredibly inappropriate heels for hiking through the countryside. Which came in handy when she stood over you and began to, honest to Lucifer, monologue and you took the chance to kick her right in the old southern starfish. She fell and tripped herself, right over the side of the tall hill she had lured you to. What wasn't so lucky was that she still had that fucking gun, which decided to go off right when she whacked her head on a tree. You were shot through the heart (yes like the stupid song) and spent your last moments clutching your belly and sobbing how sorry you were that you couldn't protect your baby.

***

The room was silent for a long moment as the gang mirrored each other's teary gazes and only then did you notice a slight and growing, static feeling in the air. After a while, Charlie spoke through her sniffles, "YOU POOR THING!! Vaggie Quick!" (Sob Sob) "We gotta give her the most comfy room we have!" Nodding, Vaggie scrambled for your suitcase and Husk for your bag while everyone else practically tried to crowd-surf you up the stairs while continuing to cry and whimper soothing affirmations.

However, the sudden elevation and excitement triggered your nausea, which forced you to begin looking around for a bathroom while gently prying the guiding hands off of you. God, can someone turn down that radio? The static is becoming irritating. They didn't seem to catch your ears pin back in discomfort or the flush traveling up your neck and you began to fold in on yourself reflexively as the urge to puke became overwhelming.

Fuck! You're about to vomit in front of strangers. How embarrassing.

But before your knees hit the tile of the lobby, you were swallowed by darkness(?) and found yourself in a large, red bathroom on a very plush bathmat. And then the nausea demanded your attention once more and you fully lost your stomach contents into the, blessedly, close toilet. After a moment you needed time to catch your breath and collect yourself before figuring out just where the Hell you were. Suddenly a large hand landed on your back and very gently smoothed out the wrinkles in your sweater as static once again tickled your senses.

Your protective deer instincts kicked in immediately and you tried to spring to your feet but, instead, wobbled over and nearly face-planted into the sink.

"Easy there, darling.", a static yet gentle, male voice cautioned as you were steadied against its owner and took notice of an earthy scent wafting from him.

You jerked your head up as your ears pinned back on instinct and nearly fainted on the spot at the realization that you were so close to the one and only Radio Demon. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!

He was wearing a wide smile and a red suit (almost as sharp as his smile) that matched the red of his hair and watchful eyes. The same large hand rose to try and cup your cheek but froze when you let out a small panicked bleat. He seemed to take a hint and stepped away from you before pointing towards the open door behind you, which you backed your way towards.

You were nearly out when you felt the familiar cramping sensation within your stomach and lost your footing once again. And just like the last time, the red demon caught you easily and the princess carried you out into what looked like a large study. More of his earthy musk caught your attention as he carefully placed you onto a plush chair in front of the fireplace. Relaxation began to take the place of the fear you felt in the wake of his smell and the warm seat. "Who are you?", you finally asked.

He smiled a bit more naturally and answered as he took the chair next to yours, "Alastor, my dear! It's quite a pleasure to meet a fellow deer demon and a lovely doe at that!".

He offered you a cup of tea, "To settle your stomach, darling.", and you wondered if this was really the big bad Radio Demon. He chuckled at the blush crossing your face and continued, "Forgive my sudden actions but I felt that you were becoming a bit overwhelmed by my compatriots and brought you somewhere quieter."

He gestured around the homey room with pride, "I don't usually allow others here but I have a special place in my heart for a doe in distress." He placed a hand on your knees and you leaned further forward to capture more of his relaxing scent. If you could make a candle out of it you definitely would. His eyebrow arched upward knowingly at your small smile to yourself and he withdrew his hand.

"I quite enjoy your scent as well, dear. Though I wonder if it'll change once you have your fawn."

The mention of your baby sobered you up from the haze, "Why? I've never been so relaxed by anyone's smell before. Yours is almost like taking a sleeping pill and I don't understand why I'm suddenly so affected by yours."

Alastor chuckled a bit before answering, "It's pure instinct, my dear. There aren't many deer demons in Hell so I'm not surprised if I'm probably the first you've come across. As an expecting doe, your body and mind crave a male for both protection and to relieve certain complications during pregnancy.", his voice dipped into a low volume at his last remark, "I'm also assuming that you came here to seek refuge for a safe birth,.but I wouldn't be shocked if your instincts told you to come find me as well."

"I- wait what?? No, I saw Charlie's commercial and thought it'd be safe here."

"Safe?", Alastor laughed darkly, "Everyone knows that this is my territory and my presence alone nearly made you faint. Yet you say you came here, to the very home of the Radio Demon, because you thought it'd be safe?"

"Well, I had heard that you'd be here but-", you stuttered to a halt in your thoughts as another wave of irritating cramps crept through your abdomen. You wished he would lean closer so his scent could relax you again.

"Not to worry, my darling. I surmise that the doe within you drove you to seek out a strong buck to finally relax enough to begin nesting in safety. The protective environment of the hotel is merely an additional bonus." He laughed again as he took your hand in his and you could once again bathe in the smell of fresh nature.

You sat back once the cramps, which were suddenly coming on in closer increments, began to subside and you thought about his theory. You had only possessed animalistic qualities for a few months but you were certain that you weren't under such strong inner control from them. Another cramp spread over your stomach and you let out a frustrated huff that received an amused chuckle from Alastor.

"Do you know why I'm having these weird cramps?", you asked dryly because his smug face said he was waiting for you to ask.

"Indeed I do!", he smiled, "You see now that you have found a buck, your body can begin to calm down and focus on the child instead of stressing about its environment." He placed a hand on his puffed-out chest like a knight in shining armor.

"Okay and?"

"A deer's gestational period is only about 7 months, which means that your body needs to expand more rapidly than a human's would. So, those small pains are simply your womb growing but they will even put as long as you are around me."

"How do you know this? There are not exactly any OBGYN offices down here." You should know since you had hoofed it all over Pentagram City to check in on your baby.

"I've been around deer since my early days above ground, though you are certainly the first pregnant sinner demon I've ever encountered. Very unusual."

"So I've gathered.", you answer. Still holding your lower stomach, which was just big enough to make your pregnancy known. "You said that a male deer could help with complications during pregnancy? Does that include these growing pains because they're getting worse."

Alastor once again withdrew himself slightly from you with a static-filled, heavy sigh and looked towards the green flames of the fireplace. His grin tightened and his grip on the chair's armrests made the wood groan as he seemed to need a moment to collect his thoughts.

You waited as your anxiety began to grow once more, which seemed to draw his attention because he turned to you with a soft gaze. "Yes, I can help with them.", he said slowly as if this conversation pained him, "but in a natural sort of way. Not with pills or any useless confection like that." He had gotten up pace in front of the fire while he continued, "Even without that coat, I could smell a mate-less, pregnant female immediately and I'm sure you could notice me as well because cervids can connect more easily through the senses."

He swallowed loudly, clearly uncomfortable.

"Alastor?", you asked hesitantly, "What are you trying to say?" He stopped in front of you suddenly and stared straight into your face, "Just like a relaxing hormone is released within a doe when she smells a strong buck; another stronger hormone is released when the male gives her an orgasm."

The room went silent and you were suddenly aware of a dull ache within your body that has been growing since you met Alastor. You were pretty sure that your whole face was as red as a cherry tomato and you looked away. Neither of you spoke for a while and you both looked away from each other in the uncomfortable silence. Until another more harsh cramp racked through you and you let out a small sigh at the discomfort which made Alastor step towards you with a clear of his throat.

"Listen dear, I have no plans of forcing myself onto you but unless you leave my vicinity, your body will continue to react to my presence here as it acclimates itself.", he knelt in front of you and moved your face to look at him, "If I'm honest, I'm not usually willing with such things but it seems that I cannot escape the reaction my body is having to yours either." Your breath caught in your chest and your blush was now definitely spreading down your body. His touch was nearly electric and his voice was so soothing that you couldn't believe you were ever afraid of this man.

But you needed clarification, "What exactly are you offering?"

"I heard your story downstairs from the shadows and I promise to find that bastard and make him a guest on my radio show. Though, I know of an influential man taking advantage of a young woman and, then, casting her away when the consequences come calling." Alastor spoke with such intensity that you were taken aback and wondered who important to him was done as you had been. "I can also respect the strength of a mother who fought for her child till her last breath despite the odds.", he genuinely smiled again as he seemed lost in thought for a moment.

***

Alastor hadn't lied when he said that he had smelled you as soon as you entered the hotel and he was almost pulled towards your sweet, airy scent. As he listened to your pitiful story from his shadow behind your chair, he quickly noticed that you also expelled a flowery yet slightly acidic smell as well. His entire body tensed with a flair of static as his instincts told him that was an unborn fawn he was smelling. He immediately sent his shadow to retrieve you once he saw that you were overwhelmed by the excitement of the others.

You were so small, your belly barely showing, as you tried (and failed) to get away from him in your panic. When you let out such an adorable little bleat of fear, he thought he'd propose there and then. Propose?! The thought nearly knocked him off his feet as he poured you a cup of tea as an excuse to sit down. Well, he supposed that it was a reasonable reaction since he didn't perceive another's scent marking on you and you're body was clearly tightly stressed from the lack of a mate's aid.

And fuck, your sweetly acidic aroma was beginning to become overwhelming as his throat started to tighten and a weight settled on his lower abdomen. He doesn't remember the last time he had gotten so worked up over a female. How long has it been since he's seen a doe demon in Hell? Maybe 2 decades? The cramps would only increase and become more aggressive if something wasn't done. He remembered, from his life, pregnant does roaming that starved to death because their mates had been killed and they couldn't fend for themselves during their growing pains.

And you reminded him so much of his dear mother. She, too, had been caught in the web of a rich pervert and left to fend for herself and her unborn son, but she also resolved to make it on her own. With her own truly humbling strength and determination that he saw echos of in your eyes.

Yes, you were lovely and he wasn't going to let you face this alone, though he was sure you could. And it wouldn't be so bad to have a woman's touch around his life.

***

"Alastor?", you called his name again and his ears perked up before his eyes returned to yours.

He took in a long breathe and began, "I'm trying to make a proposal, darling. Become my mate and in turn, I will see to it that you and your fawn have everything that you could ever want.", he materialized a black ring with a beautiful red stone laid within it and red antlers sprouted over the ring's circumference.

You were absolutely dumbfounded. You had just met this man, yet he wanted to be mates like that? "W-what?! What are you saying, Alastor? You would mate with an already pregnant woman and raise another man's baby? Why?!" You couldn't get your mind wrapped around the proposal at all. That's just not what your experience with men lined up with, no.

Alastor still had on his bright smile and continued to hold out his ring that would seal the deal, "My dear, you have no idea how you have affected me in just the small amount of time you've been here. You are strong and magnificent.", he cupped your face with his free hand, "and I will admit that I don't usually find myself having such feelings for anyone but it would be the mistake of both my lifetimes if I did not see that you are both mine."

***

I had the idea of how a pregnant doe would respond to Alastor a while ago and wanted to feel it out so when better to do that than when stuck in bed, sick from covid lol

I'm on pretty heavy cold medicine so if it doesn't read well we can blame the meds lol 😆

#hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader

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ficandkaboodle · 4 months ago

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Vaginismus: Terzo x Fem!Reader

A/N: Stg if I ever see this purple fucking freak darken the doorway of my mind, I'm going for his kneecaps. He will never be able to slut about on the floor again, and then what will he do? Thanks, y'all, for being so patient as I almost daily had a meltdown over the structure of this. And HUGE thanks once again to @angellayercake for being my ever-patient beta with amazing input and ideas!! I hope I did our bastard boy some kind of service.

Word Count: 8.8K. Sorry, this bad boy is a hydra: For every sentence I deleted, more words would come in its place

CW: Reader has a vagina, hurtful comments from past relationships, reader's mental state is kinda fucked at a few points, hints at extremely uncomfortable interactions to "make the relationship work". Sooo...Vaginismus and its delightful conditions, I suppose. Oh, and a hint of Google Translate Italian. I'm sorry, I tried referencing @/foxybouquet's ever so helpful guide the best I could but alas, I am still a moron. MDNI

Papa III was a notorious flirt, even by the standards of the sexually liberated Church of Satan.

Everybody knew this, from the Clergy to Sister Imperator to the ghouls to his many, many lovers. And yet, when his sights finally fell upon you, everyone knew: Something in him had changed. At the very least, his methods sure had.

Secondo raised a brow when he first saw his brother lightly jogging up to you in the hallways, panting for you to wait up. Primo sported a knowing smirk when he watched the normally suave man sheepishly inquire about the meaning behind certain flower arrangements. Quite the departure from his usual bouquet of red and white roses, the older man couldn't help but note.

A startled Copia quickly became suspicious when the brother that tended to tease him the most came to his office one day, armed with top-shelf juice boxes and nutty chocolate bars – just the starting price for whatever info he was willing to give his dear old fratello about his new favorite Sorella.

The ghouls had a field day whenever they came upon the old man either sulking or even swooning over how a recent interaction had gone. One even swore they had scrounged through his wastepaper basket (don't ask, it’s not worth it) and found crumpled up drafts of sonnets. Sonnets!

It was the Siblings, however, who seemed to take the most notice of his antics. And, unfortunately, the most offense.

Certainly, plenty of the congregation had received a bouquet or two from their beloved Papa Terzo. Many had been wined and dined, and some were even whisked away for a night of passion and excitement in a glamorous metropolitan hub. Terzo had gotten around, and he would probably continue to get around until he either died mid-orgy or until his dick fell off. (And even if the latter did happen, it probably wouldn’t slow him down. Not until his fingers and tongue followed suit, anyway.)

It was cyclical: You would be an interest for a week or two before your time would be up, and you would part ways as he turned his attention to another, leaving you with memories of a whirlwind dalliance to reminisce about for years to come.

This was simply something that was understood and accepted without much of any animosity amongst Siblings. This was just how things were. Or at least up until now.

They must have noticed there was something about the way Terzo pursued you. For starters, nobody could ever recall a time when the man actually needed to really pursue anyone, let alone to the extent and care he currently displayed.

They could tell when a peer was actively trying to heighten the tension, turning their back to him but still glancing over their shoulder to shoot a heated stare. An invitation for him to keep it coming. Really putting the “play” in “playing hard to get”. But generally speaking, most of what Terzo needed to do was snap his fingers and whichever Sibling or ghoul he had his eye on would eagerly crawl into his lap and then into his bed.

Maybe they saw a shine in his eyes that wasn't there when they had him. Or maybe they thought he leaned just the slightest fraction of an inch closer to you than he ever did with anyone else. Or maybe they swore his voice sounded different when he spoke with you. Lighter, but not out of an upturn in pitch to sound friendlier. It was more like it carried less weight. Almost as though he felt less burdened by some unspoken thing. Some thing he never cared to share with them.

Granted, you didn't help matters by actually enjoying the odd conversation or two (or over a dozen) with Terzo. (And by "odd", this meant the animated discussions that borderlined two-person seminars on subjects like the Hays Code, or how viewing certain films through a gendered or queer lens could enhance the suggestion of the story.)

And anyone who spotted you alone on the quad sharing a snack would've been convinced you were on an impromptu picnic, rather than the fact Terzo had found you and offered you pickings from his secret snack pocket.

Sure, it was just a sandwich baggy of cheese doodles, but the point still stood: You had Terzo's full attention, his intrigue, his consideration, his snacks, and you hadn't done a damn thing to deserve them! Any interaction between the both of you, every awkward joke, every instance of eye contact, every exchange of a genuine honest to Satan smile, had the Siblings of the abbey biting and clawing at the walls in envy.

You did your best to appear unaffected by it, preferring to keep your head down and say as little as possible when around them. Nothing to suggest you felt superior to them (not that you did anyhow). Regardless, you were fairly certain that, if it were up to them, they would bring back human sacrifice for the sole purpose of getting you out of the picture.

Thank Satanas, then, that none were present to witness the latest event.

There Terzo stood, his normally focused and powerful gaze fighting hard to be maintained. It was abundantly clear that he wanted to look anywhere but at you. Still, he resolved to keep that nervous on his face. His gorgeous, paintless face.

It was startling to say the least. Actually, no, scratch that: To truly say the least would be to just stand there, gaping like a goldfish as you failed to find the right words – any words – that truly encapsulated even a fraction of what you felt. Which, for better or for worse, was exactly what you found yourself doing.

After all, almost nobody outside of his own family had seen Terzo without his papal paints. They may as well have been tattooed on him the moment he’d perfected the design all those years ago! Not even the paramours he’d collected since then had gotten a glimpse of his bare face, despite the many opportunities they’d had from the nights spent in his quarters. The mystery as to why this was left plenty of room for speculation and imagination, creating a juicy mystique that Siblings and ghouls loved to salivate and chew on.

Admittedly, you yourself occasionally wondered what his deal was, but you ultimately chose not to ponder on it. If Terzo liked how he looked in makeup more than he did without, then that was his business. Honestly, it never even really occurred to you to ask him about it even as the two of you grew closer.

But as you took in the visage before you, you felt you had a good theory going: If Terzo went about the Ministry like this, he’d never know a moment’s peace again!

"Is . . . Is it . . . okay?" he asked quietly. Okay? Okay!? Satan’s taint, if it weren’t for the very apparent tension, you might’ve thought the man was teasing you! The man looked like an old movie star, all debonair and dashing!

The fight to respond in a timely (and coherent) manner was difficult, but you managed to stammer out, “More than okay.” You gulped down some shakiness. “Y-you’re very . . .handsome.”

Internally, you cringed at how wobbly you’d come across but thankfully that seemed to be enough. The warmth in your cheeks intensified as the nerves in his smile carefully evaporated, along with a slight tension in his shoulders.

Unfortunately, the consciousness did not remain, and almost immediately you found yourself delegating focus to other things. Like the beauty mark that lay just beneath the right corner of his pleasantly pink lips. Lips that were saying, “— if you would be interested, of course.”

You blinked. Were you interested? Wait . . . Interested in what, exactly?!

“Y-yeah, sure. I’m down,” you chirped before you could stop yourself.

While you tried your damndest not to look mortified or embarrassed, Terzo looked delighted. Possibly even elated.

“Oh, eccellente!” he clapped his palms together before offering you a mix of a nod and bow. That sharp characteristic of his eyes returned once more, pinning your form as he purred, “I look forward to it.”

Oh, fuck. “Can’t wait!” you replied. Of course, now the concept of urgency settled in.

As you walked back to your room for the night, you knew three things to be certain: The first was that that face of Terzo’s would likely be making many appearances in your dreams tonight. The second thing, branching off this, him showing you his face was a sign you’d let things get far too far.

And the third thing? You had to put an end to your exchanges ASAP.

Sure, you’d peppered this into your thoughts many times before, but after this? This moment of extreme vulnerability on Terzo’s part? No more peppering: It was time to actually pile in everything you had and outright reject Terzo’s advances. No room for stuttering or bending or swaying or swooning and second-guessing!

You repeated this like a mantra over and over, praying that the resolution would still be there in the morning. And it was – but only after you took an icy shower. You’d been spot on when you anticipated that gorgeous, gorgeous face invading your dreams. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was the nature of what all went on:

Snowflakes catching on his lashes as you ice skated on a pond (the power of dreams erasing his waking world clumsiness); his lips smiling around a forkful of the pasta you’d just cooked together; his broad nose nuzzling lovingly into your hair during a quiet night in; those entrancing eyes focused on the movie playing before you as his arm settled warmly around you. It gave you further comfort as you pressed into his side, so perfectly slotted that it was as though you only ever belonged there, right next to him.

You regretted disregarding the alarm bells that blared at the start of this whole nonsense, and now look where that got you: You needed a cold cleanse just because you saw a man’s unpainted face! You were worse than a pent-up Victorian! Did you really want to prolong things until you’d start to "feel" those smirking lips pressed against the column of your neck, or “feel” those large hands skirt along your form, leaving a deliciously pleasant fire in their wake?

Certainly, that might’ve made for a good night’s sleep in theory. But in reality? It was a nightmare in the making!

It was bad enough just wanting to do all those dreamy things and more with the equally dreamy Papa. But that, of course, meant the "more" part would eventually come around. After all, your waking life already wasn't too terribly far off from the things that went on in the dream.

Your days weren't filled with skating on the pond or chatting over romantic dinners but at this rate, they very well could be a possibility. In an ideal world, the wait for these things to happen would be filled with anticipation. But the sad, shower-cold reality was that this wait was weighed down by dread and predictions of what was to come. After all, for all Terzo's patience and kindness, even he had limits. Sometime soon, his patience with your inexactness would run out and he would come to collect. Experience told you that was just how it was.

You may not have had a pursuer as passionate as Terzo, but you’d had enough instances that ran about the same: There was that high, that thrill in an almost honeymoon period-like chase. Then there came the actual vulnerability where you’d tell them of the conditions that came with a relationship – the conditions that came with you. And yeah, they’d start off insisting that nothing about that changed how they felt about you . . . But then they’d realize your condition would outlast their gimmick.

You felt your face twist with displeasure as sentences of the past began slipping through the cracks and into the forefront of your mind.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Calm down already.”

“Just relax already.”

Then came the pain (both kinds); the giving up; and then you were right back where you started: Alone together, with a body that hated you that you hated right back. The only real difference would be how much your weariness increased, making you more and more reluctant to play along with the idea of any potential romance. Meanwhile, to them, it was a game: You were just playing hard to get, that was all. But you’d surely stop when they and they alone were able to conquer you, to cure you.

Did you really want to wait around and see Terzo become like that?

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

No. Absolutely not. You weren’t sure your heart could bear it, much less your body. Besides, if word got out that he’d shown you his face, then it’d be all over for you. You’d rather incur the wrath of rejecting what many would kill for than face what might happen if they learned how far you’d gotten by doing nothing at all. At least with the former, there was a chance the Siblings let you keep your bones intact.

You had a plan as you prepared yourself to step out and face the day: Keep calm and function as normal until the chance to say those simple words hit you: “Terzo, I am not interested in you in any way, shape, or form. While you are attractive, I am not attracted to you. Please leave me alone from now on.”

A devastating lie, perhaps, but a necessary one. One you would need to deliver by tonight.

But hey, the day was still quite young. There was plenty of time for you to find the courage, right?

. . . Well, you didn’t find it in the hallway when you heard that oh-so familiar, cheerful call of, "Buongiorno, Mia Sorellina !", prompting you to pick up speed and disappear down a different corridor. Nor was it there when you caught sight of a black flutter of robe. It could’ve been a wandering Cardinal’s cassock but you weren’t prepared to stick around and find out.

And even though you spent nearly the entirety of afternoon mass, head bowed, praying for the Dark One to simply grab the strength and shove it into you, you didn’t feel any more emboldened. Apparently, your body meant it when it didn’t allow for anything to enter it – intangible things included, it seemed.

You groaned inwardly from both disappointment and discomfort as you lifted yourself off the kneeler and back into the pew. There was also the added stressor of feeling sets of multiple eyes on you: From Siblings stewing in envy; from ghouls who wanted to take a gander at the Sister who had flirty Papa III wrapped around her finger; and, worst of all, from Terzo himself.

The one time you dared to look up at his seated form on the altar, you caught a hint of a small smile directed at you.

You tried to return it, at least enough to suggest to him you were fine and happy to see him despite your earlier actions, but the sorry attempt lost any pretense of pleasantness when your eyes got caught on something: Even in the sea of his dark robes, you could make out the dull shine of leather gloves poised in his lap. Helping them to stand out more, however, was how each fingertip was adorned with a golden nail.

Correction: A golden claw. The fine barbs would fit right in on the hand of a ghoul or perhaps some other dæmonic creature.

Normally you were fascinated by the accessories but in your increasingly unwell state, these gloves intimidated you. It was like you had been reduced to a fearful prey animal and all you saw was a threat.

A thought, sharp as those gilded talons, slashed beyond your imagination and into the walls of your most sensitive place. They pierced and drilled into the intimate area just long enough for you to know they were there – both in your mind and your body – shanking their way into a place nothing was meant to enter, let alone something so dangerous.

Although a primal need to defend yourself shot through your nervous system, you were too incapacitated to do much more than body-jolting inhale. Your only defense, you had long-since learned, was to freeze. Your brain buzzed in an unpleasant manner as you started to come down from the imaginary fingering.

“You’re overreacting,” scoffed the voice of a past partner. “It’s just a finger.” You hadn’t spoken to them in years, but the disregard in their voice remained fresh, further embittering you to the fact that that was what managed to creep into you rather than the bravery you so desperately needed.

You had to pray once more that Terzo hadn’t noticed anything. A change in your already shifty demeanor, the way your legs twitched inward but not out of lust (not when Primo’s sermon was focused more on wrath today), or how your body’s momentary lurch. Much like your prayer for strength, though, you suspected this plea went ignored. You didn’t need to look up and see Terzo’s smile falter to think that.

The moment Papa Primo dismissed the congregation, you made quick work of the camouflage offered by the uniforms of habits and lace.

When a quick glance back allowed you to catch sight of a confused-looking Papa Terzo, you forced yourself to swallow the pathetic truth: You were never going to find the courage to even say sorry, let alone that you no longer wanted to see him.

What you did find – or rather, what found you – was an overwhelming torrent of grief and frustration as you flung yourself into your room and back into the bed where your day had started with a massive hitch. You shoved your face into your flattening pillow and hoped there was just enough down still left in it to muffle up your screams. And tears. Belial, you told yourself you wouldn’t cry over this sort of thing anymore. Over anyone. You should’ve been used to this type of thing by now, so what was the use in wasting energy like this?

What was the point in dwelling on how nice it all was, how nice Terzo made you feel, or how you secretly looked forward to your conversations, no matter how bizarre or intellectual? You gained nothing but the label of immature whenever you indulged in the schoolgirlish feeling of letting Terzo accompany you in the halls. Indulgence might have been encouraged by the Church, but not when it hurt or disrupted the paths of others’ own pursuits.

There was absolutely no way what you had done wasn’t going to inevitably end in pain of some kind, be it physical on your part or mental and emotional on Terzo’s.

But then again, maybe . . . Maybe you didn’t have to do this after all? Maybe you could make peace with where things were headed. You wouldn’t be able to let him inside of you in the traditional sense, no, but surely that just meant that you would just have to . . . adjust things? Yeah . . . Yeah, maybe that could work . . .

Maybe I could earn his love in other ways? Prove that I’m not ungrateful and won’t waste his feelings? Intrusive visions of you “earning” that love projected onto the walls of your mind. Under more pleasant, more normal circumstances, some of the ideas would’ve been a delight for you in some way. Par for the course of a healthy relationship.

But the possibility that these might be the only ways to grant you worthiness, to allow you to deserve Terzo’s attention and love, to deserve Terzo . . . It felt tainted. It felt like an even worse lie to perform. It burned like a poison through your mind and heart before becoming incorporated with all the other pains rising to the surface.

The knock at your door was a welcome distraction, but only long enough for you to forget the possibility of it being Terzo on the other side.

You contemplated pretending that nobody was home before a muffled voice said, “I can smell you through the door, y’know.” Ah. A ghoul. Better in that it wasn’t Terzo, but worse in that you couldn’t avoid them. To your chagrin, the trek from your bed to the door wasn’t nearly long enough to look presentable or like you hadn’t been crying.

You could practically feel their eyes through the mask, studying your tear-stained ones as they smelled the salt that had settled on your cheeks. Nonetheless, they continued ever professionally with, “Papa III has sent me to come retrieve you.” From the way they barely contained their tail’s amused wagging, it was clear that they were getting a rise out of the insinuations of the invitation.

You may as well have been off to the gallows (or worse, Sister’s office) with how dour your disposition was. Being a part of the Emeritus line, Terzo’s chambers were further away from your humble digs in the Siblings’ quarters. Still, it felt as though there wasn’t nearly enough time from your door to his for you to concoct whatever it was you could say or do. Which, to be fair, wasn’t really much to begin with anyway. You were screwed, your fate sealed the moment the ghoul knocked on one of a pair of the large, wooden doors.

“Entrare,” the room’s occupant answered. Your heart beat icy pumps as you and your escort obliged.

You’d never been inside Terzo’s quarters before, not that you hadn’t been invited. Granted, the first few times had been in the very beginning, before he’d realized that his usual tricks weren’t going to work on an unusual suspect. He never brought it back up again, even as the two of you appeared to grow more comfortable with one another.

It was a shame, then, that you were too possessed with anxiety to properly take it all in: In another, more pleasant mental space, you would have adored the large, framed vintage posters that decorated the rich purple walls, or giggled at just how much purple and gold this guy actually used in one admittedly spacious but still single space.

You couldn’t properly see it, being in what appeared to be more of a lounging area (really, how big was the average Emeritus’s room compared to the lowly Siblings’ quarters?), but you could just make out what appeared to be a bedroom down a small coridor. From what little you could see, there was a bed made of rich, dark wood with a velvety canopy.

Dramatic, but fitting for someone like Terzo, you mused in a split second of clarity before the gravity of the situation returned with ten times the weight as before. After all, here you were, standing in the boudoir of the man whom you’d been avoiding all day. Avoiding because you’d failed to do your due diligence and warn him against pursuing you. And there was his damn bed right freaking there – !!!

That prey animal instinct from mass began to skitter back as you instinctively began to look for ways out of this. Maybe you could leap out that Satanic Tiffany glass window? You’d be killing two birds with one stone if you did: You could get out of a confrontation, and the action would surely unnerve Terzo enough for him to draw back, right?

However, the make-believe agility and will to do so quickly dissolved out of you the moment you heard the voice you’d been avoiding all day once more. “Grazie, Wisp,” he addressed the ghoul. From the sounds of it, he must’ve been in a room off to the side, away from view. Despite Terzo not being visible to them, the ghoul still offered a bow in respect before taking their leave (though not without their nosiness prompting them to sneak one last look into the room).

You winced in sync with the door clicking shut, the soft padding of footsteps on the plush carpeting thundered in your ears as Terzo made his appearance. Even though he made sure to keep some space between the both of you, you still felt increasingly like a trapped animal.

As much as you wanted to cast your eyes down and pretend to be intrigued by the fact that the flooring was black instead of some shade of purple, acting as though nothing was amiss was your best course of action. Even if you felt your breathing hitch both with uneasiness and infatuation over the fact that, yet again, the man’s face was bare of his usual paints. It did, however, carry a small look of concern. While you felt guilty, perhaps him being worried would be easier to work with than him being outright upset?

You tried to predict the sort of things a concerned Terzo might say and what responses would be appropriate when you noticed something else about him: His clothing. You didn’t expect Terzo to be lounging in his own living space in his robes but even then, he tended to favor going about in his suit. This was the first time you’d seen him in anything that could be considered casual and not relating to his position as a Papa. The first time you’d seen him in pants that were actually tailored, actually! It was questionable if a men’s blouse made from what might’ve been silk could qualify as “informal”, but your brain was currently unable to drum up that inquiry.

Instead, it was too busy focusing on how the top was being worn: With only the top two buttons undone, the edge of what was more likely than not an absolute thicket of black chest hairs was visible. (If you were a stronger person – a better, more functioning one – you would’ve absolutely braved that thicket like a safari explorer.)

You gulped, realizing that maintaining eye contact was going to be harder than usual. If you were quicker about keeping your wits, you might’ve tried to speak up first. Maybe with a “Hi, Papa. How ‘bout that afternoon mass, amirite?” But Terzo beat you to it.

“. . . How are you?” he inquired. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of accusation in his tone. “Are you doing alright today?”

I’m anxious to the point of sickness and contemplating vandalism with your window, you wanted to say.

“’M alright. Just tired, I guess,” you shrugged. Judging by the way Terzo’s lips pressed into a thin line, he probably didn’t believe you. However, if there was anything you’d learned in your time together, it was that Terzo wasn’t exactly the type to prod. It was easy to assume from the flamboyant persona that he was far nosier than he really was. But the unfortunate and lovely reality was that Terzo trusted you. Worse was that he trusted you enough to both see his true face, and to tell him how you felt when you were comfortable. Your stomach dropped when you remembered the fact you’d been crying before this. Were your eyes still reddened and puffy? Did he notice?

“Vedo,” he replied before slowly crossing his arms. "Well, if that is the case, then perhaps we must do a bit of a raincheck for the evening, yes?”

Your brows lightly twitched in a nonplussed fashion. It was then that you finally noticed the full scope of the room you were in. It was more like a den than an actual lounging area, complete with a TV on a DVD loading screen and a couch sat before it.

You forgot to blink as it hit you. This was what Terzo had been referring to during his face reveal yesterday: He was asking you to watch a movie with him! And you, in your lovesick stupor, had agreed wholeheartedly to it!

Logic (and a sense of cowardice self-preservation) would have dictated that you leap at the opportunity to leave. You needed time to regroup. Maybe make a sacrifice to Satanas in the hopes that that might win you some courage to do what needed to be done.

But before you could commit to it, you reminded yourself: You needed to act unbothered. You’d already aroused suspicion in Terzo as it was. If Terzo thought you really wanted to watch a movie with him, as you had outright stated, then you needed to watch a movie with him. All you had to do was sit down at a reasonable distance and appear completely invested. Too invested to possibly think about how you wanted to tangle your fingers into his chest hair. Or how you absolutely shouldn’t want to do that at all.

“N-no, I’m good!” you insisted a little too eagerly. “I can stay up, I’m not that tired.”

He quirked a brow but questioned no further. “If you insist. Come: I have a small setup.”

The setup being an oddly-shaped popcorn bucket (why . . . did it look kind of like a pope hat?) filled with cheese doodles and a bottle of red wine to be shared between two glasses. You took only the smallest handful of doodles to be courteous but turned down the wine under the claim that you were trying to cut back. The reality was you couldn’t risk letting alcohol lubricate you into either melting down or melting into his lap as you both settled in.

The Man Who Laughs, read the title card. A name just vague enough to sound familiar though you didn’t really know a thing about it. When Terzo briefly explained that its main character, Gwynplaine, had been the visual inspiration for The Joker from Batman, you expected some early horror flick. Perhaps being treated to an hour or two’s worth of a spiteful man seeking revenge and wreaking havoc on the innocent. Odd choice in what you could only describe as a movie date, but you were already in too deep and far too high-strung to comment.

But as the film progressed, you found yourself surprised. Not only because the plot was far from what you’d predicted, but also because you also hadn’t been expecting a sense of solidarity. Sure, you’d never been a stage performer whose disfigurement made him a laughingstock to the pauper and nobleman alike. But nonetheless, Gwynplaine’s plight resonated with you. Something about being an introverted, soft-hearted person who feared their worthiness of love was thwarted by something they had no control over.

When you’d settled on the couch that evening, your goal had been to merely pretend to take the movie in. But the tenderness exhibited by the film’s two main love interests made that all but impossible for you. You now existed in a strange and uncomfortable middle ground: Too invested to keep your wits, but too aware of how uncomfortable the relation was. If this were some vintage horror flick, there might’ve arguably been a chance to hide any visible anxieties as suspense-born fear.

But between the “smiling” man swooning into the beautiful Dea’s touch, to him hiding into himself when his insecurities got the better of him, you just kept being reminded of your own circumstances, and how Terzo had given you his full face when you couldn’t even give him the truth.

A wave of self-directed disgust began to boil in you, causing you to briefly tic. Otherwise, though, you remained stiff. It was a fair film, after all, and it was a shame that you were corrupting yet one more thing that was dear to Terzo by equating it with your own problems.

But inside you were the beginnings of a nor’easter of biblical proportions: Deluges depicted you forcing yourself through your fears in a pathetic effort to prove to him he could still love you; the voices of failed relationships past split through your mind like thunderclaps; even the howling winds sounded like your whimpers whenever you trapped yourself in the bathroom, determined but failing to conquer Q-tips and dilators and even your own pinky finger. The flood they all created sloshed and battered about your insides and squeezed at your lungs, brutalizing your mind.

Just relax already, they said.

You’re just being difficult! they had accused.

Quit holding out! they demanded.

The film became less and less visible to you as you tried to steady your breathing and cling to something inside. Please, Dark Lord, great Old One, you prayed once more. Did you want silence? Freedom? For the moment to end, or for everything to pause? You couldn’t tell with all this noise. Please –

Forget it.

Despite being born from the storm, it hung over it, breaking through everything and silencing all. Even your prayer felt muted compared to how deafening the command sounded in your head. The voice did not belong to the Dark One, however. It didn’t even belong to the other Big Guy. You knew this voice, actually. It had been years since you’d last seen or heard from its owner, but you still heard it nearly every day since. And they always said the same thing every time:

No one is going to put up with this if you can't fix it!

You fought to contain any reaction from reaching the surface, but you failed: You shuddered. Violently so. You had to quickly cover it up with an overcorrection of tensing, but you thought you’d managed.

You didn’t even have time to make up an excuse when you caught Terzo moving from the corner of your eye. He was getting closer – no: His arm was getting closer. Angling to wrap around you.

There shouldn’t have been anything intimidating about the idea of Terzo, coming at you with 30% of his hairy chest out, possibly aiming to get some over-the-shoulder action. Unfortunately for you, at this point, you were beyond intimidated. This was made clear with your reaction of jerking away, emitting a gaspy, yelpy whimper you never knew you could even make.

And for a moment, everything but the film froze.

It was an odd juxtaposition, the swelling orchestral music playing as you both just stared at one another without a single hint of romance. You truly were like Gwynplaine now, hands covering your mouth as your eyes stared wide. Terzo’s own eyes being wide was rather commonplace, but the way he stared at you now made you feel uneasy. It was almost as though those big eyes of his were suddenly seeing everything in high definition, able to see now see every crack in the structure that was you.

The soundtrack could’ve played on for an eternity before his low voice quietly spoke above it.

“Mia cara. . .? Are you okay?” He sounded even more uncertain than he did yesterday when he asked you about his face. When you failed to respond, he tried much softer: “(Y/N).”

Your breath hitched, icy and cold in your burning throat. You could count the times he’d used your actual name on one hand. Nearly all of them had been during the very beginning of your interactions. Back when he was trying to prove the extent of his interest. Otherwise, it was always a term of endearment: “Mia sorellina” or “Tesoro mio” or “Piccina mia” and so on.

Always “mio/a”. Always his, even when you had no right to be. But now, as he stared at you, having to resort to using your actual name, he must’ve been starting to realize that . . .

Even though it had done you no favors this entire evening, you let panic guide you to spring into action. You stammered and struggled for words as you tried to make yourself untense.

“I-I’m – I’m sorry, I was just so enthralled –” Did that word even fit here? “I was really into the movie, the sudden movement startled me and –” But it wasn’t so sudden, was it? “I’m really sorry, I just –”

But you just what? You did not know, and it was extremely apparent the more you talked.

“I thought you were cold,” Terzo gently reasoned once your words tapered off. At this, the arm you’d feared was coming to corner you shook gently. In his hand was the edge of a throw blanket you’d been leaning against. “I was going to offer you some cover. I thought you’d been stiff this entire while, and then you shuddered, so I . . .”

His movements were notably slower now. Felt the need to be more careful, even if all he was doing was reaching for the remote to finally pause the ongoing show.

His eyes were less wide as well, but what they left in their wake was a firm yet troubled stare. It wasn’t meant to make you feel so afraid, but the feeling was there regardless.

“(Y/N),” he stated carefully. “If you are not comfortable, then I need you to tell me. I am a big boy, I can understand boundaries. If I’ve been moving too fast or made you uncomfortable in any way, I –”

“The problem isn’t you, it’s me,” you interrupted. God. Satan. Whomever had stuck around to witness this travesty. Being the truth didn’t make it seem any less lame. And judging by how Terzo’s demeanor shifted into being unimpressed, he clearly thought so as well.

“To be brutally frank, Sorella, I was hoping for a bit more . . . honesty.” The delivery of that last word faltered somewhat, but it was more than enough to provide a healthy punch to your gut. Actually hearing Terzo express disappointment towards you was far more devastating than anything your mind could have concocted. He’d already implied on multiple occasions how he’d often found himself on the shorter end of a seemingly mutual trust. Now you were just another person who’d failed to uphold their end.

While true, something in you felt the need to still fight back.

“No, you don’t get it,” you hoarsely insisted against the tightening of your throat. Your fingers immediately set to biting into your arms as they crossed.

“Then help me to!” he finally demanded. “You’ve been acting strange ever since yesterday, so what? Is it me after all? My face? What?!” The frenzy, while warranted, made everything inside you curl inward. Everything suddenly felt too big, too loud for the decreasing space inside you. Your lungs couldn’t expand enough, and you could practically feel the hurricane inside you banging at your eyes to be let out. Your teeth sank into your lips just as your nails sank even more into your arms. Anything to bite back and fight back what was quickly becoming inevitable.

He must have realized what he’d done, or perhaps he just used his eyes to see you practically shrinking. His expression uncrumpled into something more tender and apologetic, but creases of quiet frustration remained.

“Cara. (Y/N),” he corrected, his more patient voice from before returning. “I apologize for my outburst. Really. I do. But . . . Please: What is going on?”

If you opened your mouth, you were fucked.

“I cannot fix things if you don’t tell me what needs to be fixed.”

Soft like dynamite. The dam splintered, it cracked, and then it collapsed entirely. Your body was never one to take things in or hold them, after all.

“You can’t fix me . . .” It was quiet and light and it weighed down on your insides like no other.

Terzo’s brows gathered. “. . . Perdono?”

“I said you can’t fix me, okay?!” you repeated, your sentence made jagged and uneven by its sobbing delivery. The sudden explosion left the normally calm Papa taken aback. His lips parted, surely about to question what you could possibly mean, but the flood was unrelenting as it poured from your eyes and lips.

“I’m sorry! I lied! I lied, I lied, I lied, okay!? My body doesn’t work, okay, it’s fucking broken, and I knew it all along but I couldn’t tell you because I’m a f-fucking coward a-and I’m s-s-elfish – And – !” But this point, though, your throat far too tight and painful to even try continuing. Besides, you’d said all of what mattered, right? That you’d lied to him by omission, that you were broken, and that you were a goddamn selfish coward for pretending otherwise.

The truth hurt but you deserved this pain, having only yourself to blame that you were experiencing this on this man’s couch instead of in the privacy of your room. Everything in you screamed to get up and run back there, in fact, but you lacked the will to do anything other than stay put in a near-blinding fit of crying, probably fucking up the sofa with all the tears you were leaking onto it. You might’ve stayed that way even longer if it weren’t for a sudden nudging at your knee.

Apparently at some point during your pity party, Terzo had taken the opportunity to get up and . . . retrieve a box of tissues? Not leave? Or call for a ghoul to come and get you? Actually, that made a bit of sense: He was too much of a gentleman to kick somebody out while they were crying, no matter how awkward the circumstances.

As much as the punishing part of you wanted to reject it, the suffocation of your snotty nose was intolerable. You accepted the tissue box and dug in until your face stung with how much you had to wipe at it.

Terzo meanwhile resumed his seat, making sure to allow you space as you let out whatever nonverbal emotion you needed to let out. He didn’t force you to talk – not that you could, remaining a coughing, hiccupping mess even as the emotional tempest began to recede.

In fact, he himself didn’t say a word until you’d managed to work yourself down to pathetic, wet sniffles and tremors.

“. . . You know you’re not broken, right?” he asked. You almost didn’t hear it about you

You sniffled, perplexed. Terzo watched patiently as he continued, “Look: I don’t know exactly what’s going on. But what I do know is that you make me laugh. I like talking to you. I like talking with you. I just. Like you. So clearly, something about you must work, si?”

You shook your head. No. No, that’s what they all said. Maybe not like that, but they all said one of two things:

Either they claimed this didn’t bother them and that they could work with your condition, only to later realize they couldn’t keep up the lie; or they would ask to go your separate ways. He hadn’t done the latter yet, but after everything you’d put him through, he at least deserved specification to make that decision.

“No, I mean,” you took in a deep, shaky inhale. Mostly to calm the discomfort. “I mean. My body – It literally doesn’t – I have a condition, Terzo.” You paused just enough to let the words sink in – for the both of you. It never got easier to say no matter how many times you said it. “I can’t have sex. Not in a normal way, anyway. So, like. No penetrating or whatever. Not even, like, a tongue. Shit hurts so I don’t – I can’t bother with it. And like.” You twisted your fingers. “That feels kind of antithetical to the whole ‘living deliciously’ vibe or whatever you’re supposed to be promoting. So . . .”

So there. That was it. In a sick sort of way, you did feel somewhat of a weight lifted. The heavy, gross feeling of rejection still sat within you, but you had a familiarity with it. In time, it, too, would fizzle back into the recesses of your mind. You could . . . live with it there . . .

“. . . So what?” Terzo practically huffed, barely fighting back a smirk, one you couldn’t tell if it was from his own words, or in response to the stunned expression you now wore. “First off – and forgive me for missing any point – but you do realize that the whole of that whole ‘living deliciously’ shit comes from making choices, right? If sex is what you’re talking about, I don’t necessarily need sex. Is nice, yes, but. It’s not my whole fucking life, you know.”

. . . Well, no, but . . . To be fair, that rockstar persona certainly made that easy to not consider. Before you could argue this, he continued.

“Second off,” Terzo held up two fingers. “You do realize sex is more than just insert-dick-in-pussy, yes? Your Papa is . . . Well, he knows he is no blushing virgin, we shall say. No offense.” (At this, your expression blanked. Bemusement was superior to distress, though, you supposed.) “But do you really think that I think there is only one way to make sex count? Cara, per favore: Sex is sex! So long as everyone is having fun – and consenting! – then what is there to worry about?”

“E in terzo luogo,” he added a third finger before giving all three a wiggle, “do you really think that I would do all this if all I wanted was a quick fuck? I mean, think about it, piccina. Give me more credit.”

Well, when he put it like that . . . Your cheeks and ears burned less from humiliation, but from a much softer breed of embarrassment.

“Well . . . no . . .” you admitted. “B-but going back to the choice thing – I thought the idea was to make choices that don’t hurt anybody.”

He nodded with agreement. “Questo è vero. But here we are. And no one got hurt, si?”

You bit your lip, “But . . . I lied to you. I wasted your time, and – ” At this, Terzo’s hand rose, signaling for you to shut your yap.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, dolcezza,” he spoke, his features tame but stern. “You did not waste my time. Okay? I gave you my time. And I wouldn’t ask for a moment of it back. And do you know why?” He didn’t even allow you enough time to make a snarky response: “Because I chose to spend it with you. Even if I’d known, I’d choose you. And why would I not? Sei una bellisima compagnia, and I already love what we do together, even if it’s not fucking. Now, have I thought about us fucking? Yes! Often!” (You felt your blush deepening at his rather blunt confession.)

“But I have also thought about things we have talked about; things I would like for us to talk about; things I would like for us to do – besides each other, I mean. But it here’s a fourth thing.”

No fourth finger this time. Just him offering you his hand. You felt every particle in your abdomen squish and flip over the simple gesture, but curiosity made you pushed through to accept it. Even as his other hand came over on top of yours, any trapped feeling you might’ve had mere moments before never came forward. If anything, you felt . . . here? And for as buzzy as “here” felt, you didn’t want to run from it.

Terzo gave your hand a grounding squeeze as his eyes remained locked with your own. “I’m never gonna do something that hurts you. Alright?” he swore. “And if I do? Then I need you, I beg of you to tell me. Because if you don’t want to do anything, then we don’t do anything. We do nothing but enjoy one another’s company. That is plenty enough for me, dolcezza, I can promise you this. Do you understand?”

You gulped. You didn’t even realize your eyes had widened until you found yourself needing to blink back a fresh, much smaller batch of warm tears. You could practically feel your mind scrambling, trying to reference past experiences that could help you work off of this. Maybe proof he was lying, an argument you could present – something to make this all make sense!

But it found nothing of the sort. No one, in all those times, had ever offered a third thing, let alone one where you felt like you had an actual say in how things went.

Should . . . Should you nod? Could you be trusted to make the right decision here? You nodded. It was uneasy and uncertain, but the smile it gave Terzo seemed to be the proper answer.

“Good girl,” he affirmed. Oh. Yep. That was the right answer, you decided with a jittery exhale.

“Now!” Terzo exclaimed before giving the back of your hand a gentle pat and releasing it. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to finish our movie. Call me a firm nerd but I’ve waited all night to hear your thoughts on this, no joking.”

The change in atmosphere was dizzying as Terzo readjusted himself into a more comfortable position, as though you hadn’t just bared your soul and literal intimacies to him and had him respond in the most genuine and affirming way possible. Not as though it were nothing, but more like it was just not nearly as distressing as what you’d prepared yourself to face. With the storm settling and the fog of anxiety clearing, it became increasingly apparent just how discolored your thoughts had become by your past experiences. Of course Terzo wouldn’t be so rigid about sex: It went against everything he stood for, everything he was!

Of course, complete acceptance on your end wouldn’t be immediate. But you could work with this. Though, there was admittedly one last concern you had before movie night resumed.

“B-but.” You stopped short as Terzo turned his attention back to you. You had to remind yourself that the nerves you felt now were nothing compared to before. You could do this. “But . . . What if I . . . do want to do something?”

A bushy brow at the insinuation.

“N-not now! Not immediately,” you clarified. Suddenly the fringe of the throw blanket required your attention as you began fidgeting with it. “I just . . . You know.” You gave an awkward shrug and glanced up at him, a look of pleading twinkling in your eyes as you hoped he understood what you meant. Not any time soon, perhaps, but . . . Some day? You watched as the right corner of his mouth, the one where that darling beauty mark lay, rose up into a smile.

“Then, cuore mio, we talk about it,” he answered simply. “And, if you still want to ‘do something’ after?” He leaned in, the warmth of his smile heating into a devilish smirk.

“We do it. Whatever that may look like for us.”

You nearly blacked out when the bastard had the audacity to wink at you.

He then clicked play, shifting back into place as Gwynplaine and Dea came back to life. By the time you’d managed to regain your composure and refocus on the movie, Dea was cradling Gwynplaine’s tearful face in her hands. Assuming you hadn’t missed anything, this was the first time the poor soul had actually ever let her touch his face in all its deformed glory. And judging by her jubilant reaction, Dea couldn’t have been happier.

Good for him, you quietly delighted. It was absolutely what he deserved after all that time spent torturing himself over nothing. As you resituated yourself back into the cushions, you briefly noted how the voices from before, while still there, were much quieter. They lacked the power provided by the storm, and any time one of them seemed to try and get louder, you’d hear Terzo’s voice smother it out.

I’d choose you, he affirmed.

Good girl, he praised.

You know you’re not broken, right? he reminded.

It gave you goosebumps, though not the kind that the throw blanket could pat out. But you had a theory.

It seemed that the Old One had finally chosen now to put some courage in you. Better late than never, you supposed as you began to inch closer and closer along the couch until you could feel the heat radiating off Terzo’s body. The proximity in itself was thrilling enough, but the boldness didn’t stop there.

You tested the waters, leaning a little further into him, only for his arm to calmly come around you. Whatever space that remained was quickly closed as you felt yourself being tugged and cushioned into his side. You had only a nanosecond to catch the barely-contained smile on his face before you practically melted into place. Terzo’s touch, his scent, his warmth, his everything flooded into you, filling you with a simultaneous calmness and a vigor you hadn’t felt in years.

Your dream from before had been right after all: You belonged here, right next to your Papa.

#the band ghost #ghost band x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus x reader #papa terzo x reader #cw vaginismus #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x fem!reader #terzo x fem!reader #papa terzo #papa emeritus x fem!reader #stg if Copia gives me any hassle even vaguely similar to what i had to go through with this asshole #i'm getting my goddamn gwimbly ghoul gun #fun fact: i could not for the life of me recall Terzo's speech patterns when i needed them most so i took to youtube #and instead kept having to pause because i kept blushing at the stupidest shit he'd say #it's the Voice man #anyway go watch The Man Who Laughs if only to see a dog named Homo #and to see Conrad Veidt be an absolute babyboy who is disgustingly smitten with Dea #i would've picked a sluttier movie but honestly that movie made my heart so slutty

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meazalykov · 3 months ago

Text

taken back by your actions

sydney lohmann x reader

all of your relationships get sabotaged, and you do not know why

warnings: sydney being a bit possessive but nothing too much

you still remember the day you walked out of arsenal's training ground for the last time. the weight pressing down on your shoulders had become unbearable, suffocating even.

every interaction with jonas felt like another nail driven into your resolve, chipping away at your love for the game. the way that you hated stepping on the pitch for this man was something that you did not realize for a while. his constant criticism lingered like an unwelcome shadow, twisting your passion into something unrecognizable.

it was as if every word he spoke was designed to remind you of your shortcomings, of how you were never quite enough for his vision of the team.

the nights in london became longer, the silence of your flat heavy with regret and frustration. you hated this. you hated this shit! you’d catch glimpses of your reflection in the darkened windows, eyes tired and spirit battered.

north london’s vibrancy faded, replaced by the monochrome routine of surviving each day under his scrutiny. teammates whispered their sympathies, even though they were going through the same thing themselves.. but no one could truly understand the hollow ache of feeling unwanted in a place that was supposed to be your sanctuary.

when the offer from bayern came, it felt like a lifeline tossed into your stormy seas. munich was the light in a place where you could breathe again, where you could actually find joy in playing again.

the transition wasn’t without its challenges. the german city was foreign, its streets winding and unfamiliar. the mornings started with the crisp air of bavaria brushing against your cheeks as you made your way to training.

later on… the girls at bayern welcomed you with open arms. tuva was the first to reach out, her warm smile and infectious laughter making the locker room feel less daunting. she was a whirlwind of energy, eager to include you in team traditions, making you feel like a part of the family from the start.

training was different here… more driven you shall say. it was intense too, but without the undercurrent of judgment you’d grown accustomed to.

you felt nostalgia when you played against georgia during a 1v1 in training, you guys used to battle it out during those manchester city vs arsenal games a long time ago.

overtime throghout the season.. there were evenings spent at georgia’s too, everyone was crowded around her tiny kitchen, the smell of homemade food filling the space while laughter echoed off the walls.

the days blended into a rhythm. you were still healing, pieces of your past lurking in the corners of your mind, but you were not in london anymore. you felt the beginnings of something you thought you had lost...hope.

in munich, you met a girl who you were hitting it off with.

maeve.

maeve was a pretty, very tall, model. the red hair of hers matched her freckles and her olive medium toned skin. maeve was kind, yet knew how to stand up for herself. she was creative, knew how to take art seriously, and y/n thought that maeve was someone that she wanted while living here in munich.

things were good for a good month and a half. you always saw maeve after your trainings, the girl even came to one of your games against frankfurt. however, you first noticed something was off with maeve when she stopped replying as quickly.

the late-night conversations you used to have, the playful teasing, the way she’d send voice notes just to hear your laugh…it all faded into a long silence.

at first, you thought she was just busy. i mean.. your football schedules were demanding, and you understood that maeve was probably busy with her model work.

suddenly, you realized that maeve ghosted you entirely.

you never got an explanation. just a cold, quiet withdrawal, like she had never been interested in the first place. it stung, but you moved on, or at least tried to.

when you met stevie, just two months after maeve left.. you thought maybe things would be different. stevie was confident, her blonde smooth hair matching her words, and she had this ridiculous way of making you laugh at the most inappropriate times.

you liked her…maybe not head-over-heels yet, but you liked her.

then, it happened again.

stevie started pulling away, just like maeve had. the blonde’s texts turned into one-word answers, her playful flirting disappeared.

before you knew it, she was gone too.

except this time, you knew why.

you had seen it with your own eyes.

that night at the bar, you had been with the bayern girls, unwinding after a tough match the night before, when you saw stevie at the counter, nursing a drink and laughing at something.

you hadn’t planned to intrude until you noticed who she was laughing with.

sydney.

your stomach turned as you watched them, sydney leaning in close, eyes sharp with intention. her hand grazed stevie’s arm, her lips curled into something undeniably flirtatious. it wasn’t just friendly banter…it was calculated.

of course… just a few days later, stevie was gone. just like maeve.

that’s when the fury set in.

a week later.. the locker room was packed before the game against hoffenheim, but you didn’t care.

you stormed in, ignoring the looks, how all of the girls were in harmony while tying their boots. however, the girls noticed the air shifting as you marched straight toward sydney, who had just sat down on the bench, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

“taking other people’s girls? are you kidding me?” your voice was sharp, unwavering, slicing through the room like a blade.

conversations around you died instantly.

all eyes turned to the two of you.

sydney blinked up at you, feigning confusion.

“what the hell are you talking about?”

“don’t play dumb,” you shot back, your hands clenched at your sides.

“first maeve, now stevie? what, you just get some sick pleasure out of ruining the talking stages of every girl i talk to?”

sydney exhaled, shaking her head.

“you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“oh, i know exactly what i’m saying.” you took a step closer, not caring how your voice raised.

“you couldn’t even be subtle about it this time. you were all over stevie that night, and next thing i know, she’s done with me. just like maeve. what is your problem?”

sydney looked away, jaw tight.

“you wouldn’t understand.”

you scoffed.

“try me.”

sydney looked up.

“its not like you guys were officially together anyways y/n, relax.“

silence. sydney’s fingers curled around the towel in her lap, knuckles whitening. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the lack of an answer only ignited your anger further.

“you’re pathetic.” the words slipped out before you could stop them, laced with frustration and betrayal.

“i actually thought you had some worth.”

the second the words left your mouth, magda was there, her arms wrapping around your waist from behind.

“that’s enough,” she murmured, voice firm yet gentle as she physically lifted you away. your feet barely skimmed the floor as she hauled you out of the locker room, your rage still burning hot.

inside, the girls were silent for a moment before klara spoke up.

“okay, but seriously,” she said, staring straight at sydney,

“what the hell is your problem with y/n? you’re acting like a jealous ex.”

a few of the girls snickered, but sydney didn’t even flinch. the german’s gaze was locked on the door you had just been carried through, something unreadable in her expression.

klara tilted her head.

“wait.” her eyes narrowed.

“are you actually—oh my god!”

“what?” georgia leaned in.

klara turned to face the rest of the room, looking somewhere between amused and utterly exasperated.

“sydney has a thing for y/n.”

the locker room erupted in noise. shocked gasps, laughter, disbelief. tuva nearly choked on her water.

sydney groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“shut up.”

two months passed, and you didn’t speak to sydney.

not once.

she noticed. oh, she noticed.

she noticed in the way you didn’t even glance at her in training, how you ignored her presence completely. she noticed in the way you laughed with georgia, leaned into lena and lea during team outings, but never even stood near her.

she noticed in the way her name left your vocabulary entirely, as if she had never been a part of your life to begin with.

and it was killing her.

so when she finally got you alone in the locker room, when it was just the two of you left in the quiet space, she cracked.

“i did it because i wanted you.”

the words came out rushed, raw, like she had been holding them in for years.

you had just finished untying your cleats when you froze, looking up at her with a furrowed brow.

“what?”

sydney exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair.

“i hated seeing you with those people. maeve, stevie…god, it was fucking unbearable. they didn’t deserve you. they didn’t even see you the way i do.”

your chest tightened, confusion laced with something deeper.

“what the fuck are you talking about, sydney?”

she stepped closer, her voice quieter now, but just as intense.

“i wanted you for myself, y/n. i wanted you before i even realized it. after that champions league match while you were at arsenal, after we tackled each other…fuck, i hated you for a second, but then i looked at you, like really looked at you, and suddenly i couldn’t think about anything else.”

your breath hitched.

“sydney—”

“i know i went about it the wrong way,” she admitted, voice hoarse.

“i know i was an idiot. but i couldn’t stand seeing you fall for people who didn’t even know half the things about you that i do.” she swallowed hard, finally meeting your gaze.

“i didn’t know what else to do.”

silence stretched between you. the weight of her words, the weight of everything she had done, settled over the space like a thick fog.

you should have been angry. you should have called her out for her ridiculous behavior, told her she had no right to sabotage your relationships.

instead, you found yourself staring at her, really seeing her for the first time.

she was nervous. the german’s fingers twitched at her sides, her jaw was tight, her usually confident demeanor fractured by vulnerability.

suddenly, the anger melted just a little.

“you’re so stupid,” you muttered, shaking your head.

sydney blinked.

“what?”

you exhaled, finally standing up, closing the space between you.

“if you wanted me, you could have just said so.”

sydney’s lips parted slightly, but no words came.

you reached out, letting your fingers brush against hers, and she sucked in a quiet breath.

“but if you ever pull that shit again,” you added, voice softer now, “we’re done before we even start.”

her eyes searched yours.

“does this mean—”

“it means you’ve got a chance,” you said, squeezing her fingers.

“but you better not be shy now, because i don’t do the whole ‘shy and stupid’ thing.”

a slow, stunned smile spread across her lips.

“okay,” she breathed.

“okay.”

you glanced at her lips for just a second before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, lingering just enough to watch her breath hitch.

"everyone's outside waiting for training to start," you murmured against her skin, pulling back slightly.

sydney didn’t let you go far…her hand curled around your wrist, tugging you right back in as she captured your lips properly this time, deep and certain. when she finally pulled away, a smirk played on her face.

“you missed the first time.”

you huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head.

“i didn’t miss. i was just teasing.”

sydney rolled her eyes before gripping your waist, spinning you both around as she pulled you out of the locker room, her hand firm against your side, making sure you stayed close.

masterlist

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen #georgia stanway #tuva hansen #dividers by kodaswrld #lena oberdorf

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kquil · 2 years ago

Text

JAMES POTTER | 10:44 ⏤KISS CAM

SUM. : you end up on the kiss cam but not with james...

G. : modern au ; muggle au ; hockey player james au ; secretly dating au

LENGTH : 0.7k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

You’ve been in a secret relationship with the James Potter for quite a while now, well renowned ice hockey player. It was a chance meeting actually, a chance meeting that left quite a lasting impression on the both you, several chance meetings happened after that and you eventually found yourself falling in love and happily engaging in a private relationship.

It was a whirlwind, shockingly fast but blissfully pleasant all at once, your feet in the air and flying through the skies, endlessly on cloud nine. Now, it's already been half a year and you haven't missed a single one of his games. It's still taking you a little time to get used to understanding how the game works and its rules but James was quick to assure you that that wasn't important.

"My favourite part of the game is being able to meet you when its over for a kiss well-done," you still remember his cheeky, boyish grin and the fluttering ache in your heart. All he has to do is flash you that charming smile and you were jelly.

He's such a loverboy, so tender and sweet, a true gentleman but also goofy and ridiculously charming in his own audacious way. His liberal manner of loving meant that you didn't go a day without hearing an 'I love you' or being pulled into a sudden hug or getting a playful kiss on the cheek. In return, you tried to calm his affections but always succumbed to him in the end - like voluntarily free-falling from a skyscraper and always knowing you would land on a thick cushion of fluffy clouds and secure parachutes.

You've never been so content in your life; naturally your eyes never left James and him you. He loves your timid affections, subtle but sweeter than honey, first unnoticeable but with a slight squint he could almost turn blind from how radiantly you emit your love for him. He's never letting you go. If there is so much as an hint of you leaving him, he's giving his all into making sure you stay, he'll shout and scream and cry and fight, no matter what it takes.

He's impulsive and hot headed, cheeks burning an almost darling pink when irritation furrows his brows and sets flames ablaze behind his eyes. James's eyes right now, however, weren't just a sea of flames but a volcanic eruption. His usual glasses weren't in the way of his eyes, only the small strands of his sweat-drentched hair provided you with some shield to his wrath. You were shocked, in your six months being together, you've never seen him so infuriated but it was then that realised you situation - you were sharing the big screen with a random guy for the 'Kiss Cam'.

The teams were on a break so of course James had seen it and was now blowing smoke fumes out of his ears and nostrils, glaring through the glass and at the guy who was attempting to lean in for a kiss as he skates his way furiously towards you. If the glass wasn't in the way, you feared that James would have beat the man to death beside you. You mentally berate yourself for having realised the situation too late and scramble say that you didn't want to partake in any kiss. You were just about to open your mouth and stop the stranger when the love of your life angrily slams his headgear into the reinforced glass before you in warning.

"Stay the fuck away from my girl dickhead!" James shouted in anger, his thundering voice keeping the glass shaking as the stranger beside you immediately backed away. Lost in the moment and finding his unusual overprotectiveness overly cute, you step up, kiss your hand and press it into the glass in front of his lips in a pseudo kiss.

"Thanks James," you smile, staring lovingly into his eyes that have visible softened at the sight of your gorgeous face.

"Kiss me twice later," you do nothing but nod and he's heading back to group with his teammates once more. You suppose your relationship isn't so private anymore.

A/N : thoughts, darlings? i know james is typically associated with rugby but i can see him as an ice hockey player too - please someone tell me that they think the same TT_TT

PART 2 | NAVI

#james potter x reader #james potter #marauders #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james potter fic #marauders fic #the marauders #𐂂 : TIMESTAMP

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justsomerandomfanfic · 3 months ago

Text

Whirlwind - Tyler Owens X Female Reader

Title: Whirlwind

Tyler Owens X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's friends (Mentioned), Dani, Dexter, Lily, Boone, Ben, a couple of other people (Mentioned), a random kid, and the kid's mother

WC: 5,197

Warnings: Post-Twisters events, thrill-seeker reader?, teasing, banter, flirting, friends to lovers, tornadoes, italics, nicknames, slightly suggestive, F4 tornado, events before and after a tornado, injuries, blood briefly mentioned, confession, slight angst, and fluff

You and Tyler had been friends for a very long time. Three years. You first met him when you were with your friends. You were on a road trip - during the summer off of college - when you all stopped at a small town in Oklahoma for the night. You found a motel but had not been expecting so many people partying in the parking lot. You had half a mind to find another motel to stay at, somewhere quieter, but the next town was a few good miles away, and you needed to preserve gas until you found a gas station.

Stepping out of the van, your friends were instantly drawn to the party. The atmosphere was inviting and warm, and it wasn't long until you lost sight of your friends, who had joined in on the festivities. You weren't really one for parties. Sometimes you were, but you had been on the road for a good couple of hours, and you just wanted to spend some time alone. However, upon seeing the bright stars and the full moon in the sky, you decided to hold off finding your motel room.

Being a photographer, you loved capturing the beauty of mother nature. Her work always inspired you. Throughout the trip, you had been taking pictures of anything and everything; from luscious forests, golden fields of wheat, and pouring cold rain. You loved taking pictures of breathtaking sights. However, your favorite things to capture were thunderstorms and the moon.

Eyes flickering over the party before you, you made sure to spot each of your friends before climbing the metal stairs. The strap of your compact camera felt heavy around your neck as you reached the second floor of the motel. Your gaze shifted to the bright moon, high in the sky, big and luminous, with some of its craters visible. Leaning against the metal railing, you pursed your lips briefly. Raising your camera, you found the moon through the lens, fixing the blur, but you frowned. From where you stood, it just wasn't the perfect shot.

Glancing down at the railing you were leaning on, you pushed through whatever fear you had and began to climb it. Still secured around your neck, you let go of your camera. Grabbing the wall beside you with one hand, you push up against the railing with the other; climbing up the horizontal bars of the railing. In moments you had managed to reach the top of the railing, bracing yourself on the wall attached to it. You were a good amount of feet high, enough that if you did fall, you would probably break a bone or two, but you - again - pushed past that fear. You were confident in your balance, and the railing, and you were determined to get this perfect shot. You glanced down at the party below you, spotting a few of your friends mingling and seemingly having fun.

With your free hand, you raised your camera once more, scrunching your face, you aimed and took the shot. With the shutter of the camera, you grinned, lowering it to smile down at the photo on the small screen.

‘Perfect.’

"Looks like someone’s aimin' for the most dangerous photo award." You heard a voice call out in your direction. Looking down, you spotted a man. He was wearing blue jeans and a red flannel. His head was tilted back slightly to look up at you, one hand on his cowboy hat so it didn't fall off his head. You narrowed your eyes, seeing the charismatic - almost amused - grin on his face.

"I don't think that's a thing," You called back down, moving your eyes away briefly before meeting his gaze, somewhat wary. What did he want?

Moving his hands onto his hips, his grin grew, and the cowboy stranger continued, "You good up there, or do ya need some help down?" His southern drawl was thick as honey and laced with amusement.

You huffed, trying to suppress a smile. "I'm fine, thank you very much."

He chuckled, his eyes almost twinkling. "Alrigh', jus' makin' sure. I’m Tyler, by the way. Tyler Owens." He tipped the brim of his cowboy hat.

You adjusted your stance on the railing, still clutching your camera. "Nice to meet you, Tyler. I’m Y/N." You finally smiled, feeling a strange warmth spread across your cheeks.

Well, what was supposed to be just a night's stay in Oklahoma ended up being a week, which then turned into three years between Oklahoma and Arkansas.

~~~

Being around the team - and being a part of the 'Tornado Wranglers' - for three years, it was only a matter of time until you and Tyler became inseparable. And it was obvious to your group of friends that there was definitely more going on than just a simple friendship. Even their YouTube viewers and subscribers - most if not all - thought or assumed that both you and Tyler were a couple. And it wasn't as if their assumptions were baseless, it really did seem - to those on the outside - that you and Tyler were dating.

There was more than one occasion where you held hands; either when you took his hand in yours when you walked side by side - jokingly swinging them to and fro - or after a particularly rough tornado chase where your hands would reach out for the other in search of comfort and reassurance.

There was more than just hand-holding, though. The both of you teased each other - borderline flirting - holding eye contact for a little bit too long to be considered platonic. Any simple contact between you two was prolonged, lingering. Especially hugs; which happened more frequently than not. You were always touching each other in some way. Whether it was hands resting on shoulders, arms around waists, linking arms, or even hugs from behind.

Overall, it was really easy to mistake the both of you as a couple. And it certainly didn't help that both of you were very affectionate towards each other.

But you were just friends. Really, really good friends. Though Tyler wished it could be more, he didn't want to risk ruining what you two had. Despite his desire to tell you how he felt; the longing to hold you close, to kiss you... Tyler feared he might lose you. He worried that if he told you, he'd lose everything. That he'd lose his chance at a friendship with you forever. That fear kept him quiet.

In the end, as long as you were by his side, and he was by yours, he was content. Your friendship meant the world to him, and that was enough.

~~~

Staring up at the graying sky before him, Tyler stood with his hands on his hips. It was a great day for tornado chasing and the one that he had his eyes on seemed like it was going to be a good one. He loved the adrenaline that came with chasing tornadoes, the rush he felt.

Walking across the field, he made his way back over to the motel where he was staying with the team. Spotting Dani and Dexter at the camper van, he gave them a grin as he walked over.

"Hey, it seems like we got one west of us," He gestured to the large, gloomy patch of clouds miles away.

Sitting in two camper chairs, Dani and Dexter exchanged glances. Dani shrugged, "I think we're good on this one."

"Yeah, I've got some work to do, thanks, Tyler." Dexter spoke, with his own grin.

Tyler hummed, eyeing them suspiciously before he headed off to one of the motel rooms. Knocking, he waited until Lily opened the door.

Rubbing her eyes, she seemed tired, a small yawn leaving her. "Hey, Tyler, what's up?" She pivoted her weight, leaning on the doorway.

"There's the beginnings of a tornado in the west. Dexter and Dani ain't joinin'. Just seein' if you'd want to."

"Uh," She winced, rubbing her temple, "I think I'll pass on this one, T, sorry. I think I'm gonna have a 'me day.' There’s a jacuzzi calling my name."

Tyler shook his head, "Nah, yeah, I totally get it. See ya later." He grinned, despite his growing confusion, giving the young woman a wave before he headed over to Boone's motel room a few doors down. Repeating his action, Tyler knocked on the door, and the charismatic tornado chaser answered. "Hey, Boone, there's a tornado in the west. Want to test out some of those new fireworks?"

At the drop of Boone's grin, Tyler's hopes of his best friend joining him on this tornado chase dropped. "Sorry, T, you know I would love to test out fireworks any day, but, uh, you see, I have to, uh... Feed my cat." At that, Boone shut the door, leaving Tyler to stare at it.

'Boone doesn't have a cat.' He thought. 'What's he hidin'?' Now, thinking about it, all of them - Dani, Dexter, Lily, and Boone have been acting strange. He even doubted Ben would want to join in after everything that happened a few years back. Yeah, he was getting better and was somewhat used to tornado chasing at this point - having decided to move from London to the States, but he always rode with Dani and Dexter when they chased.

Well, there was only one person left to ask, and Tyler really hoped that you would want to join him. Even the thought of possibly spending more time with you - alone - tornado chasing - made that confused frown slip back into a grin. Reaching your door, he didn't hesitate to knock, hearing shuffling on the other side before you opened the door. Your eyes brightened upon meeting Tyler's gaze, your smile widening.

"Hey, Ty, good morning," You greeted him,

"Good mornin', sweetheart," He greeted as he leaned against the doorway, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets. "There's a tornado west of us. Wanna join me?"

Your eyes lit up, "Of course!" You exclaimed, fumbling slightly as you walked back into the motel room, grabbing your camera, "Is the rest of the team coming?"

Tyler shook his head, "Nope, it'll just be us today."

Looping the camera's strap around your neck with one hand, you waved the other in the air, letting out a 'pfft.' "Their loss. More tornado for us." Tyler's grin widened, and off the two of you went.

The truck jostled as Tyler suddenly veered off the dusty, dirt path and into the tall grass; racing towards the swirling dark clouds ahead. The speakers were practically turned all the way up, playing 'Ain't No Love In Oklahoma.' One of your favorite songs. You held onto the handle on the truck's door, mumbling to the song, your eyes trained on the clouds as they began to spiral toward the ground - creating a funnel - before touching down; creating a cloud of dirt, dust, and grass.

"Woo-hoo!" Tyler cheered, your laughter of excitement mixing with his.

Tyler glanced over at you as you got your camera ready, and unbuckled yourself from your seat; an amused grin forming on his lips. Quickly rolling down the window, you pushed yourself up and pressed your knee into the passenger seat. With half of your body leaning out of the window, your stomach pressing against the window's ledge, the rapid winds rustled through your hair; a laugh bubbled out of you, eyes closed.

Tyler smiled to himself. Reaching out to place his hand on your waist, a finger hooking onto one of the loops of your jeans; something that he'd always done during the countless times you pulled the stunt. The simple, protective action always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Raising your camera, you snapped a few pictures. Slipping back into your seat, you buckled back up, looking over at Tyler, who was already looking at you. A wide, toothy smile spread across his face at the sight of you; your hair a mess from the wind, the bright smile on your face, wearing his 'Not My First Tornadeo' shirt. His heart skipped a beat.

Returning his eyes to the tornado, he pulled up right into its path. Activating the augers, he anchored the truck to the ground. You then flipped up the three switches, your finger hovering over the 'boom' button as you waited for the right moment. The tornado made its way towards the both of you, shaking the truck, bits of dirt, rain, and whatnot hitting the windows; the powerful force of the twister was loud and clear to hear. It was a continuous roar that reminded you of a freight train or jet engine.

Tyler let out another round of hootin' and hollerin', as you pressed the button. Fireworks - of multiple colors - shot up the middle of the tornado. You let out your own celebratory cheer, staring out the passenger window as the fireworks went off, spiraling round and round; laughing happily as the storm raged on.

Hopping out of the car as the tornado passed by, you ran around the front of the car, Tyler's arms already open and ready for when you jumped into his embrace. Your laughter rang out as Tyler spun you around a bit, before lowering you back onto your feet. Watching the tornado slowly spin out of existence, your face hurt from how hard you were smiling. Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you impossibly closer to his side, before leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.

"Yeah," You let out a sigh of content, "They missed out big time."

"They sure did, she was a beaut," Tyler answered, watching the last wisps of dust and dirt from the tornado disperse into the horizon. "I'm glad you came along with me."

"Of course," You spoke, looking up at him with a smile, "I love chasing tornadoes with you."

He flashed a cheeky grin, "Well, who wouldn’t love chasin' tornadoes with the 'YouTube-famous Tornado Wrangler'?"

Giving him a look, you crossed your arms, and smirked, "I'm starting to think your ego is the real storm here."

"Ya wound me, sweetheart." He pressed a hand to his chest, making you roll your eyes playfully. "Ya hungry?" He then suddenly asked, resting his hands on his hips.

Taking a step closer, you looked up at him - a mischievous expression appeared on your face. Tyler felt his breath hitch in his throat, his cheeks flushing a faint pink at the proximity between you, but he quickly cleared his throat, regaining his composure; hopefully you hadn't noticed.

"Starved," You admitted, before reaching up and snatching his cowboy hat off his head.

"Hey!" He called out in mock anger, laughter escaping him as he watched you run back to the passenger side of the truck and place his hat on your head. He followed, jogging to the driver’s side, another wave of excitement washing over him.

~~~

That following week, after chasing a dozen or so tornados, an F4 tornado was heading for a small town a couple of miles from where you, Tyler, and the rest of the team were staying. It had popped up on the scanner, and you all weren't going to sit around and not help. So, the seven of you got into the truck, van, and camper, heading towards the small town that was right in the path of this insanely powerful tornado.

Entering the town, you could see the tornado fast approaching in the near distance. Everyone got out of the vehicles, rushing up to help those who were panicking and hadn't found shelter as the winds picked up; dirt and debris flying everywhere as the tornado grew closer to the town. You and Tyler stuck together, helping lead people into a building with a basement.

Quickly surveying the town around you, you pushed your hair away from your face. But upon spotting a child - no more than seven or eight years old - looking around for her mother, terrified; you had to act. "I'll be right back!" You yelled over to Tyler, over the storm, who turned to you with wide, panicked eyes. "Don't worry," You assured him, though you knew that was a stupid thing to request of him to do. There was always worrying in this world, with this life. "I got this."

Tyler tried to push his worries away, watching as you ran off. Letting out a deep sigh, he grabbed the building’s door, “You do got this.” He spoke to himself, before using his strength to shut the door.

Running back out into the streets, you glanced at the tornado, which was at this point ripping pieces off of buildings with its strength. Spotting the child, you rushed over towards her. Hopping over a fallen piece of something metal, not even noticing as something sharp flew through the air and cut your cheek. Adrenaline and fear filled you as you took the young girl's hand. Your eyes then scanned around you, spotting another building.

"Come on," You spoke to the girl, quickly leading her to the nearby building. You did your best to shield her with your body, the door of the building flying open from the force of the wind. Pulling the door closed, you realized the place didn't have a basement. Just your luck. Thankfully, you both found a small closet and there, you both ducked. The little girl curled up into you, as your arms wrapped around her, protecting her from everything and anything. "We're gonna be okay." You muttered, your breathing heavy as the tornado rumbled outside; a rumble that could be felt, shaking the building, and the Earth, as it passed.

The roaring then turned into silence, and all you could hear was yours and the little girl's heavy breathing. Blinking open your eyes, you looked down at the little girl, seeing that she seemed okay, minus the obvious trauma. Exiting the closet, and what little remained of the building, you held the girl's hand as you stepped back onto the street.

"Mary!" You heard a woman's voice, spotting the little girl's mother running down the street.

"Momma!" She cried back, letting go of you to run into her mother's arms.

You smiled, happy that they were both alright and reunited. Trying to spot your friends, your eyes landed on each one of them - they all seemed alright as well - a breath of relief leaving your chest. And only when your eyes began to frantically search for Tyler, did you feel the sharp sting on your cheek. Raising your hand, you hissed as you pressed your pointer and middle finger against the cut on your cheek, pulling your hand back to see the blood on your fingers; feeling it trickling down your neck.

"Y/N!" You heard Tyler's voice call out, his figure coming into view as he left the building he was in, ragged, heavy breathing; his own eyes were frantic as he searched for you. Your heartbeat quickened, and your eyes widened.

"Tyler!" You shouted, racing towards him, his head whipping around at the sound of your voice. He rushed over to you and as soon as you reached him, he wrapped you up in his arms, holding you tight and close to his chest.

You pressed your face into his maroon shirt, your hands clutching tightly to the material of it, tears burning your eyes as you tried to control your breathing.

‘He’s okay… He’s okay…’

Pulling back slightly, Tyler's eyes landed on the cut on your cheek, seeing the trail of drying blood trailing down your neck. "You're hurt." He spoke, his voice low and soft, concern evident in his eyes; his hand raised to cup your uninjured cheek.

"It's just a scratch," You muttered, looking up at him, your hand coming up to cover his hand on your cheek. "Are you okay?" You then asked, your worried gaze flickering around his face before returning to his eyes. “You're not hurt?”

Looking back at you, Tyler swallowed thickly before nodding, "Yeah, I'm fine, just a couple bumps and bruises, but..," His one hand on your waist tightened, bringing you closer to him, "Are you sure you're alrigh'?"

You gave him a small - hopefully reassuring - smile, nodding, "I'm alright, Ty."

Yeah, you were alright. The scratch wasn't anything too serious, it wouldn't even leave a scar, but as Tyler looked down at you, all he could think about was the possibility of losing you. It was a risk that came with tornado chasing, and he knew that, but it killed him inside knowing that if anything ever happened to you... He couldn’t even finish that thought, instead digging his nose into your hair, he shut his eyes. Letting out a deep sigh as he pulled you back into his arms.

~~~

Tyler found you sitting out on the top of his truck that night. You were staring up at the stars in the sky, watching as they flickered; trying to spot a few constellations. You'd often stargaze after chasing exceptionally dangerous tornadoes, Tyler had come to find out over the years. Seeing the destruction they caused... Seeing how quickly everything disappeared in a blink of an eye; stargazing helped with the anxiety and the sense of helplessness you felt, it seemed.

Feeling the truck jostle, you turned your head to watch as Tyler hopped up on the truck's roof with you. Observing the side of his face, you noticed his hat was gone, probably left in his motel room. His dirty blonde hair was somewhat ruffled, strands falling in front of his forehead a bit. His green eyes meeting yours, he gave you a small smile. "What ya did back there," He began, his voice soft as to keep the somewhat peaceful atmosphere from dissipating, "Was really brave."

You pursed your lips, nodding, turning back to stare at the stars, "I couldn't just stand there." You began, the level of your voice matching his, "She looked so scared."

Tyler reached out and gently took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You did more than most people would, sweetheart," His thumb traced soothing circles on the back of your hand. "Your instinct to help, even when it was dangerous, shows just how incredible you are." You looked up at him, the corner of your lip twitched up into a small, appreciative smile; feeling his words warm your heart.

"Thank you, Tyler. You’re pretty incredible too." Tyler gave you a small smile in return before his eyes dropped down to stare at the square-patch bandage - partially hidden behind your hair - covering the scratch you got hours earlier.

The smile on his face shifted and was replaced with a frown; he knew he shouldn't feel like it was all his fault, but still. His stomach churned uncomfortably, a strange sense of guilt flooding him as he remembered the events of earlier that day, remembering the pained expression on your face when Dexter cleaned and bandaged your cut.

Reaching out, he brushed your hair away from your face, tucking the strands behind your ear; his fingers just grazing the bandage before he let out a deep sigh. Cupping the back of your head, his fingers laced through your hair. All the while, you held your breath, unable to look away from him. Dropping his head, he pressed his forehead against yours, shutting his eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetheart,"

"It's not your fault, Ty." You breathed out, shutting your own eyes, your hand coming up to cup his cheek; your thumb brushing across his stubble. "You've got nothing to worry about."

"Can't help but worry," He let out a wistful chuckle. "I don't know what I'd do if anything were to happen to you..."

"I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you either." You replied softly, pulling back slightly as he opened his eyes.

Suddenly, it felt like all of your senses had been heightened. You became so aware of how close you and Tyler's faces were to each other. His face was so close to yours, that you could practically count his lashes as they fluttered; half-lidded. His lips were slightly agape, slow bursts of air escaping them. His scent - dirt, cologne, and leather was intoxicating. How his hand was still holding yours, warming you. And how his fingers were still in your hair, his thumb brushing back and forth on your neck - soothing, almost lovingly... And with the way he was looking at you… Oh, how he was looking at you. You felt your heart beating - pounding - in your chest.

"Is it crazy to say that I really want to kiss ya righ' now?" He then asked suddenly, his voice low, husky; his tongue running along his bottom lip briefly. A shiver ran down your spine as your heartbeat increased, and goosebumps appeared on your arms. You were surprised, to say the least. You didn't think that Tyler would like you back. And yet he was asking if he could kiss you. Though, at your silence, Tyle continued, "I- I don't want to mess this up. I don't want to ruin this. What we got... What we got right here is good."

"Tyler," You muttered, you could practically feel how nervous he was, but you were nervous too, "You won’t. You won't mess this up."

Letting out a somewhat shaky breath, the soft pad of your thumb brushing against his cheek grounded him. "Ya sure?"

You gave him a shy smile, "Absolutely sure."

Searching your eyes, slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in; his breath mingling with yours. Wetting his bottom lip once more, you both closed your eyes as you tilted your head upward; his soft lips met yours. Letting out a sigh, you practically melted. Your hand on Tyler's cheek slid back, wrapping itself around the base of his neck - your fingers tangling themselves into his hair there. Tyler was sure that this was heaven.

Tyler broke the kiss moments later, leaning his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. "God... I've been wantin' to do that for a while."

You chuckled, your cheeks burning, "Me too."

Pulling back, that same mischievous look appeared in his eyes, "I mean, who wouldn't? I'm a tornado wrangler." He spoke cockily but jokingly, making you huff out a laugh and roll your eyes.

"Annnnd moment ruined," You sighed dramatically, making Tyler let out a boisterous laugh. "Again, your ego is unbelievable." You shook your head, smiling at him; your gaze trailing over his features.

His laughter died down, pulling you into his side, his hand cupping the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry," He muttered into your hair, "Would some pizza make up for my egotistical behavior?"

You looked up at him with your own playful smirk. "Hmm, pizza might help..," You trailed off, leaning forward to press a peck to his lips before hopping off the roof of the truck.

With a love-sick grin on his face, Tyler followed after you, opening the passenger side door for you as you hopped in. Once he was in the driver's seat, he placed the keys into the ignition and put the truck in reverse; speeding out of the motel parking lot and onto the road.

~~~

That following day, you, Tyler, and the rest of the team headed north, where the beginnings of a tornado were forming. The chase was epic, and the viewers on the YouTube channel were loving all the live footage. It had been a good, successful day. That night, you all sat around the campfire in your camp chairs. Boone, Dani, Lily, Dexter, Ben, and Tyler, were all laughing about something. In the background, there was music playing from Tyler's truck, mixed with the sound of chirping crickets in the wilderness.

You exited your hotel room, walking down the metal motel stairs, "Hey! Guess who finally decided to join us?" Dani called out, your presence gaining everyone's attention.

"Missing out on the fun, we found Boone's secret stash of marshmallows." Lily spoke up, waving her stick with a toasted marshmallow stabbed on top of it.

Boone huffed, rolling his eyes, "I was going to share them." He faux angrily bit into his marshmallow.

Walking past the fire, you headed straight towards Tyler, seeing the smile on his face brighten at the sight of you. "Sorry I wasn't able to join in sooner," You apologized, as Tyler’s hands cupped your waist, gently pulling you into his lap, "I had to shower the tornado off of me."

The group fell into silence, all five of them narrowing their eyes and staring at both you and Tyler, suspicious; analyzing. You often sat on Tyler's lap, but this was different. The way your arm was resting behind his shoulders, your fingers brushing through the hair on the nape of his neck. The way his arm was wrapped around your hips, keeping you close to him; his thumb brushing along the material of your jeans. But, the easiest tell that something was definitely different, was the way you were both looking at each other when your eyes met.

The group shared knowing glances with each other, smiling, grinning, before they all looked at Tyler and you. And finally, Lily spoke, "Did he finally tell you?" She asked, her eyes wide and a bright smile on her face at just the thought that maybe - finally - Tyler confessed after all these years.

Biting your bottom lip, you glanced down at Tyler, who had already been looking at you. Shrugging, you couldn't stop the smile from appearing on your face, "Maybe," You began, chuckling when the group cheered.

"Finally!" Dani exclaimed, gesturing to the two of you, "We've been waiting forever. And Boone," Dani looked over at the young man sitting across the circle they had made with their chairs, "You owe me twenty bucks."

Raising an eyebrow, Tyler chuckled, "You bet on us?"

Boone nodded, begrudgingly handing Dani the twenty-dollar bill. "Yeah, I thought you'd confess back when you both went on that tornado chase a couple of weeks back."

"Wait a minute..," Tyler began, narrowing his eyes at his friends, "That day when you all made up excuses..? Really?" His tone of voice was full of amusement; his lips twitching upwards.

Dexter shrugged, "That was the only way we could get you alone together. We knew you were going to crack sooner or later. It has been... What? Three years? What a whirlwind."

Shaking your head, you laughed quietly, "I can't believe you guys," You said, only for Lily to lean forward in her seat.

“Congratulations,” Ben spoke up from his seat, and you gave the journalist a smile.

“Thanks, Ben.”

"Yeah, we're happy for you two," She started, giving you a warm smile. "It was meant to be."

Letting out a sigh, you smiled softly, looking back at Tyler, "Meant to be." You muttered, repeating her words.

Tyler smirked, taking your hand in his free one, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. Looking up at you with such intensity that made your stomach flip, he spoke again, "I like the sound of that."

~~~

Main Masterlist | Twisters Masterlist

#cute #fluff #x reader #slight angst #fanfiction #fanfic #x you #x y/n #x female reader #twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x female reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x y/n #glen powell #glen powell x reader #friends to lovers

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gejo333 · 6 months ago

Text

Art credit:@clementinekim_(Instagram)

An Unexpected Match XIII

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Summary: Two week honeymoon with your hubby Miguel🥰

I’m sorry this took so long.😅💕💕💕

Pt. 1 Pt.15

Enjoy!💕

Wc: 5k

————————————————————————

The smell of salt, the sound of the Aegean Sea, and the sun's warmth relaxed your entire body. You happily lay on a sun bed in your bikini at your private pool as you read a romance novel Stephanie has been dying for you to read for months. And you were glad to have finally picked up the book because she was right. It was really good.

However, as you flip the page, your relaxed state dissolves as you feel heat grow between your legs. Your eyes peer right over your book as you look at your husband, who is in the jacuzzi resting. His eyes were closed as his arms lay on each side, showing off his perfectly toned biceps. You said you would join him after you read a chapter or two of your book. But after reading that spicy scene and glancing at your husband, you couldn't resist.

For the past four days since you arrived at this 5-star resort in Greece, you and Miguel hadn't left your private cabana. You couldn't keep your hands off each other. You were only pausing briefly to have some sleep or to eat. This was the first time you two had decided to take a relaxing break from being entangled with each other and take in the beautiful view around you. But of course, it's barely been an hour, and you want him to touch and kiss you.

You couldn't sit still anymore as you got up and walked to the jacuzzi. Your foot dipped into the water, sending a warm chill up your spine. The water wrapped around your body as you descended the steps before fully submerging until the water was under your collarbone.

You swim over to Miguel and sit right next to him, tucked under his right arm. Your head rests on his chest as you gaze at the beautiful ocean-front view. His arm behind you comes down and wraps around your waist, and his hand gently caresses your upper thigh.

"Missed me too much, cariño?" He kissed your head. You rolled your eyes as you didn't have to even look at him to see the smirk on his lips.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, "Mhmm, maybe just a little bit." Your lips move down his face to his neck, finding his sweet spot before straddling his lap. His hands find their way to your waist as he pulls you against him.

His fingers glide up your side to your neck as he lifts your chin. Your lips meet his as you open your mouth to let his tongue wander.

Your hips move against his crotch, making his grip on your waist tighten as he grinds his clothed erection, making you moan against his lips. Your arms feel up his toned tan abs as they go around his neck, and your fingers comb through his dark curls. Miguel's hands grab your ass as he stands up in the jacuzzi, making his way out and back inside your luxury cabana.

Your body hits the soft duvet as Miguel's lips move down your neck, "So beautiful and all mine. Isn't that right, cariño?" His voice rumbled against your skin as his lips continued to your chest, moving your bathing suit as his mouth latched to your nipple, making your grip on his hair stronger as the sensation of his mouth went straight down south to your core.

"Y-yes." You breathed out.

While his mouth and hand worked on your breasts, you felt his other hand feel its way down your stomach to your bottoms as he pulled the bows on one side, which was keeping them from falling off, now thrown across the room, leaving you fully exposed.

You arch your back as you feel his thumb rubbing your clit as he enters, not one but two fingers thrust inside you. Your grip tightens in his curls as you feel his teeth bite your nipple, sending a whirlwind of pleasure through your body. Miguel's lips kissed from the top of your breast to the collarbone and the crook of your neck, leaving marks.

"M-Miguel, please don't give me hickeys. You know I don't like them." Your husband's lips nipped your ear before he smirked at you, kissing your lips.

"No promises cariño." He purred in your ear, which made you send him a glare as you tried to hide your smile, which only made him chuckle as he removed his fingers from you, grabbed your hips, and inserted himself fully inside you, letting a gasp escape you, taking you by surprise.

Miguel grabs your waist as he lifts you onto his lap, making you moan out loud as his cock enters deeper inside you as he bounces you up and down his shaft.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you claw his upper back every time his tip hits your cervix, making you dig your nails deeper, which further ignites his desire to keep fucking you harder, ending up in an erotic cycle you both didn't mind being in.

...

The bed was soaked in sweat, and both of your pleasure as your head hung back, feeling overstimulated. Miguel sucked on your now bruised neck as he continued to thrust up into you. If it weren't for Miguel holding you in place, you would have collapsed to the bed as he fucks you stupid.

You let out a raspy moan, feeling the high from God's know which orgasm you lost count a while ago. Your throat was tired from the amount of screaming you'd done the past couple of hours.

"Last one, mi amor. I promise." Miguel kissed your sweaty temple. Your last orgasm unraveled by him as he spilled deep inside you. He collapsed his back down on the bed with you falling and resting on top of his chest with him still inside you.

"You think you got me pregnant yet?" You chuckled as you looked at him with a loving smile before getting off him. You were too sore to move to the bathroom to clean up, so you decided to wait till tomorrow.

You pushed back the sheets and duvet as you rested your head on your pillow. Miguel sat up from his position and let out a deep chuckle at your comment. He moved towards you and said, "Well, with how many times we have done it these past few days, I wouldn't be surprised, but..."

"But?" Your smile widens as he hovers over you.

"But maybe we should try again just to make sure," Miguel smirked as he took your chin and kissed you before covering you both with the sheets.

...

You lather your arm in soap and gently wash yourself in the tub. After taking a shower to properly clean up all the sweat and other liquids covering you, you took a relaxing bath to soothe your sore body as Miguel was surprisingly still asleep. You smiled; your husband needed the rest. Not just with the amount of fucking you both have been doing or from the slight jet lag, but he works so hard every day as an incredible CEO and a loving father and now husband. So you didn't mind him getting the extra rest.

When the water in the tub grew cold, you got out and wrapped a towel around your body as you looked into the vanity mirror. You huffed out a breath of annoyance as you noticed the trail of hickeys all over your neck and chest. You noticed the trail continued down your body when you slightly moved your towel.

"That man is going to get it for marking me up."

"What am I going to get?" Miguel chuckled as he walked into the master bath only in his boxers. You turned around to face him as he stood right before you. You purse your lips into a pout as you point to the hickies on your neck. Your frown deepens as you only see a smirk on his face, proud of his work.

"Smug bastard." You mumble as you turn around again to face the mirror and figure out how to cover these marks. Miguel's hands were at your hips in an instant as he pressed his crotch against your backside.

"Well, this bastard wants to have a taste of his wife." Miguel kissed up your neck, sending a shiver up your spine.

"I don't think you deserve a taste of me." You cross your arms as you move your face so that his lips miss yours, which sends a curious eyebrow arch and light glare your way from your husband.

"Well, cariño, if my tongue can't have you, then I know something else that can." Miguel lifted your towel and spread your legs as you let a breathy moan as you felt him enter his cock inside your wet folds from behind.

"Miguel." You growled out in warning. "I was hoping we go out...go out...and explore."

Miguel breathed in your hair as he turned your chin to face him. His lips met yours as he began thrusting himself inside you, making you lean over the bathroom counter.

"Of course we can, mi amor. But let's finish this round, and we'll get ready."

You huff in annoyance, knowing this wouldn't be the only session, especially since he just woke up. Of course, you're not complaining about the surge of pleasure coursing through your entire body, but he's going to regret marking up your neck.

Damn, maybe you shouldn't have let him sleep in. The amount of vigor he sends through each thrust hurts slightly as his tip consistently slams against your cervix. But it only added to the overall pleasure. One of his hands went to your lower abdomen as he pressed his palm against you, feeling himself move inside you and making him rougher with his movements.

The doorbell rang, followed by a woman calling behind the main door, "Housekeeping!"

"Puta madre," Miguel growled as he picked up his pace to see to your climax. After hearing your sweet moans come out seconds later, he pulled out and put himself back in his boxers, ready to confront the people at the door. (Son of a Bitch)

Despite your legs feeling like jelly from only one round, you stood up and placed your hand on his chest, stopping his movements. "I think I should go answer the door." You smile as you go on your toes and peck his lips before you leave and grab your robe to cover yourself.

The doorbell goes off again. You quickly get to the door before the housekeeper opens it.

"Hi, sorry for the wait." You brushed your hair behind one of your ears, a nervous habit.

Standing before you was an older woman and a woman near your age. The older woman's eyes widen as she notices the hickey on your neck. You move your hair to cover them as a blush falls on your cheeks.

"Good morning, Mrs. O'Hara. We hope you and Mr. O'Hara have been enjoying your time here. Would you like us to clean the house?" The older woman spoke with a warm smile.

"That would be amazing. We were planning on heading out in 30 minutes. Is it ok to come back around then?"

"Of course, Mrs. O'Hara. Is there anything else you need?" The other woman spoke.

"No, nothing else. Thank you. Have a nice day."

"Thank you. You too."

You smile before closing the door and return to where Miguel sat on the bed, getting rid of his morning wood. You made your way to him as you got on your knees.

You gave him a few strokes from your hand that couldn't even fully wrap around his massive shaft. You dragged your tongue up his member before kissing his leaking tip, your gaze not leaving him once. You open your mouth for him to slide onto your tongue and down your throat.

"Fuck, I love you and that pretty mouth of yours." Miguel moaned out as his hand reached the back of your head. His fingers intertwined into your hair as he gently thrusts into your throat. You hum in approval against his cock, earning another groan from Miguel's lips.

Miguel gently thrusts more of himself into your mouth; being used to his size in your throat, you were able to stop from gagging as you continued to move your tongue along his cock. You make sure your tongue grazes over the vein on the underside of his member, sending a large amount of pleasure through him.

Miguel groaned in pleasure as he gently thrust a few more times before spilling into your throat. You happily swallow every drop before removing him from your mouth. You lick anything remaining on your lips as you stand up and kiss his cheek.

After getting ready, you walk out of the cabana hand in hand. You smile up at him as he looks down at you lovingly, stopping briefly to kiss your lips sweetly. You caress his cheek as you look into his red-brown eyes. His hand is placed on top of yours, showing his wedding band.

"I love you." You breathe out.

"I love you more, mi diosa." (my goddess.) He kisses you again before you go to the resort's main building.

You sat on the lounge sofa as you looked at the scattered hotel experience brochures on the table.

"Mi amor." You looked up to see a fork with a piece of your favorite fruit in your face. You were so excited looking at all the excursions and activities you forgot to eat. You smile lovingly before you open your mouth for him to feed it to you.

"Thank you, Miggy."

"Have to look out for you sometimes." He smiles happily down at you as he kisses your cheek. You lean against his chest as you open one of the brochures to show him.

"This one is a catamaran that takes you to these gorgeous caves that boats can go through, or we can jump in and swim. Ooo, snorkeling on a reef sounds fun, too! I wonder which one we should choose..."

Miguel lifted your hand, kissed your wedding ring, and then entangled his fingers with yours. "If you can't decide, let's do both. We're here to enjoy our time together. When we get back, we won't have that much relaxing time since your internship will be starting a month from then. We have an endless amount of funds; let's use it to enjoy ourselves to the fullest."

After an enjoyable breakfast by the crystal turquoise waters and booking all the fun excursions with the concierge, you find the perfect place at the beach to relax under the sun.

You take your sundress off wearing a brand-new white bathing suit. You couldn't help but be a little cheesy. You were on your honeymoon, after all.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt a toned chest against your backside as lips lightly kissed your neck, making you giggle.

"Miggy, you're tickling my neck."

"If I can hear your beautiful laugh, I might just continue."

You turn your head to kiss his lips. You felt his tongue slip through your lips, surprising you as you gently slap his chest, parting your lips from his.

"Miguel, cálmate." You smile as you give him a playful glare, and he smirks. (Calm down.)

"What can I say, Hermosa? I love you so much and can't help but show it."

You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck as you get on your toes and sweetly kiss his lips. "I love you so much, too."

"How about-" he kisses your lips. " I'll go get us-" he kisses the part between your neck and shoulder. "Some drinks."

"Thank you, honey. Love you."

Miguel kissed you on the lips, squeezing your ass and quickly moving away before you could hit him. He only winked at you with a goofy grin before returning to the bar.

"Fuck, she's hot."

"Hey there, cutie."

You were relaxing on the lounge chair, enjoying the sun, when a shadow appeared before you. Opening your eyes, a frown appeared on your lips as you saw two men around your age, or most likely seniors in college, standing in front of you.

"Um, can I help you? You're blocking the sun."

"We were walking on the beach and saw this smoking hot babe in a white bikini, and we thought we would shoot our shot and buy you a drink."

"I'm a married woman. Even if I weren't, I would still say no. So, have a nice day." You sarcastically wave them away. But, of course, these guys were the extra obnoxious douches.

"Oh, come on now. Just one drink. Plus, how do we know you're married? I don't see your husband any-"

"Mi amor, are these men bothering you?" Towering behind the two men was your pissed-off husband.

"Yes, they were."

The men's faces grew pale as they saw a large, well-built man give them a death glare.

"Uh, s-sorry, man. Our bad. We'll get going."

"I think that's wise. This is a private and very exclusive beach that I highly doubt you two are members of. Please don't make me catch you bothering my wife or anyone else again. Got it?"

"Y-yes." The two men quickly walked away.

You stood up from your chair, hugged his waist, and kissed his cheek. "My hero."

Miguel smiled lovingly at you as he leaned down to kiss your lips. He sat on his chair, his beer in one hand and another arm around your waist. You sat between his legs, resting your back against his chest, stealing kisses from each other occasionally.

After lounging at the beach all day, you return to the luxury cabana you've been staying in.

When you finally returned, you immediately plopped onto the bed, closing your eyes.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you were startled when you felt arms lift you from the bed bridal style. You headed out to the outdoor terrace, facing the gorgeous view of the ocean. Your gaze landed on the table beautifully set up with food, wine, and candles, giving natural light.

"This is beautiful, Miguel. What's the occasion?" Miguel sat you in one of the chairs before sitting beside you.

"No occasion. I know you wanted to explore more today, but I just wanted to have dinner with the two of us."

You leave your seat and walk to his side of the table. Miguel happily moves his chair out so you can sit on his lap. "I don't mind if it's just you and me. Not one bit."

A giggle leaves your lips as Miguel kisses your neck and the top of your chest. You grabbed a fork, picked up a piece of food, and fed it to him.

"Is it delicious?"

"It is. But I've had more delicious things." Miguel took the fork from your hand and set it on the table. You scrunch your brows, wondering what could be better than a 6-star dish.

"And what could that be?" You chuckle.

Miguel kissed your neck up to your ear as he whispered, " You." Lifting your bridal style in his arms, he kissed your lips in a heated, loving manner as he led you inside towards the bedroom.

———-

After another long night of passionate lovemaking, you wake up to another lovely morning with an ocean view. You turn in bed to find it empty. Frowning slightly from the lack of extra warmth, you leave the bed and head to the walk-in closet. After putting on some panties, pajama shorts, and one of Miguel's T-shirts, you walk towards the living area. However, you find it empty. You then hear your husband's laughter echo outside from the deck.

You smile as you walk outside and see him on FaceTime with your daughter. Walking up to sit next to him on the sofa, he smiles lovingly at you and kisses your cheek, saying, "Good morning, mi amor."

"Mama!"

"Baby bug! I've missed you!!"

"I've missed you too, Mama! When are you and Papa coming home?"

"A little over a week until we come back home," Miguel answered, and Gabi's lips turned into a pout as tears began to form from the corner of her eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. It's going to be ok. We'll be back in a flash." Tears threatened to spill from your own eyes as it broke your heart to see your daughter sad and missing you and Miguel.

"Gabi, remember what I told you?" Gabriel spoke up as he wiped her tears away.

She rubbed her eyes as she shyly shook her head.

"Mama and Papa have to go on a long journey because they need to talk to a magical waterfall to ask for a baby so you can have a brother and sister."

You tried so hard to keep a straight face. Out of all the ways to explain how children are made, he says this? You sighed, and a smile graced your lips. Gabi's pout turned into her adorable smile as she believed her uncle's story.

"Papa! Mama! Can I have a little sister, please!"

"Sadly we can't decide princesa. Only the magical waterfall can." Miguel told her, joining in on the story.

"Oh, ok."

"Baby bug, if you have a little brother or sister, I bet they would love to hang out and play with you no matter what." Your words kept a smile on her face.

"Alright, Gabi. We have to get you to your play date," Gabriel said, to your daughter's disappointment.

"But I want to talk to Mama and Papa more."

"It's ok, princesa. You can talk to us when you finish your play date."

"Promise."

"We promise. We love you, baby bug." You blow her a kiss, which she does back as she says she loves you both before hanging up the phone.

Miguel puts your legs on his lap before pulling you closer to him. He leans over and kisses you, which you happily reciprocate. The kiss leads to a heated make-out session, distracting you both until you hear an alarm from Miguelon 's phone, indicating it is time to head over to the dock for the catamaran.

After getting properly dressed, you head to the pick-up destination. The catamaran wasn't private, as none were available, so you and Miguel would be sharing it with three other couples.

When the boat arrives, you stare in awe at its beauty. Feeling Miguel's hand on your lower backside brings you back to reality as you walk on the catamaran.

You both found the perfect place to sit and relax in the sun together.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! We will be arriving at the caves in 30 minutes. Please feel free to enjoy the open bar while you relax."

"Do you want me to get you a beer?"

"That would be amazing, Hermosa. Thank you." Miguel pulled you close and quickly kissed your lips before you went to the bar to get the drinks.

As you were waiting for the drinks, your gaze lazily wandered. Suddenly, you noticed a man checking you out. He winked at you, but you scoffed and rolled your eyes. Luckily, his girlfriend saw it, and you smiled when you heard a smack. Thanking the bartender, you walked back to your husband with the drinks.

"Here you go, honey." You pass him his favorite beer.

"Thank you, mi amor." Miguel kissed your cheek before taking a sip of his beer.

"Oh! I want to get a photo of us before we enter the water."

Miguel smiled as he grabbed your waist and brought you to sit between his legs, letting your back rest against his chest. You raised the phone to take a photo, with Miguel stealing a kiss or two between photos, which made you giggle, urging him to stop the PDA. He whispered into your ear, " Then I'll just have to make up for the time showing you how much I love you back in the bedroom." This sent a nice chill up your spine.

"Hey! Would you like me to photograph the two of you?" A redheaded woman around your age with a warm smile approached the two of you.

"That you be amazing. Thank you." You hand her your phone. She happily takes a few photos, which turn out to be amazing. You need to put one in a frame.

"Thank you. Would you like me to take one for you?" You offered.

"That would be amazing. Let me get my fiancé." The woman leaves before returning with a man. Your eyes widen when the familiar, slightly older face awkwardly smiles back at you.

"This is Matt. My fiancé. I'm Chelsea, by the way."

Who would have thought that the guy Miguel stole you away at the bar that night years ago would be right in front of you?

"It's been a while, hasn't it." Matt chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It has. About that night. Apologies for stealing her." Miguel chuckled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

"No worries, man. All good. Plus, if I didn't leave when I did that morning after bumping into the both of you, I never would have bumped into the love of my life in the elevator." Matt brought Chelsea close and kissed her cheek.

"I could say the same thing about finding my true love." Miguel looked at you with a loving gaze. If he could, he would give you the entire universe.

"What brings you here?" You asked.

"Matt popped the question to me yesterday. So we decided to go on this catamaran to celebrate. What about you?" Chelsea asked.

"It's our honeymoon. We got married last week."

"Congratulations! Hope you've been having fun here."

"We have." Miguel looks at you, your cheeks tinted pink, as you notice the lustful cloud over his eyes.

You talked more with Chelsea as you waited for the boat to reach its destination. As soon as your skin became too warm under the sun, you sighed in relief when the captain announced your arrival.

When you were allowed to get into the water, you didn't hesitate. You went in, followed by Miguel. Since the water was very salty, it was easy to float. You swam up to Miguel, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his lips, and placing his hands on your hips as he brought you closer.

"Ready to explore?" You ask as your lips separate from his.

"You or the caves?" he chuckled. You lightly slapped his chest, trying to hide your smile but failing.

As you swim to one of the caves, the water becomes shallow enough for Miguel to stand. When you arrive at the cave, you pass through a sheet of water flowing over the entrance. You swim in first, followed by Miguel.

Your eyes widen at the cave's beauty, with the blue water and natural light coming into the cave, reflecting a beautiful blue on the walls. As you continued deeper into the cave, you could finally stand.

A breath shuttered out of your chest as you felt Miguel pressed up against you. His fingers brushed against your neck as you pushed your hair to the side as he kissed your neck. You smiled as you leaned into his touch.

"Miguel, we shouldn't. Someone might see." You giggle as his lips lightly tickle your neck.

"Cariño, there are multiple caves. And the couples who decided to go for a swim went to different caves, for what I'm assuming the same reason for what we're about to do."

"You'll say anything to get into my pants." You smiled as you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Can you blame me?" He chuckled as he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he kissed your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His tongue is in your mouth as the make-out session grows more heated.

Miguel moved you towards a ledge. As he lies you down on the smooth rock surface, he brings you closer, head between your thighs. His hands go to the side of your thighs as he slides the bottoms of your bathing suit off.

Your slight, worried glance made him chuckle as he wrapped your bottoms around his wrist so they wouldn't get swept away by the water.

"You only have 30 minutes." You chuckle out a breath as he lifts your legs to his shoulders.

"I'll make sure to make it count."

You let a small moan escape from you as his teeth nip your inner thighs before placing his lips on your clit. Your fingers intertwine in his hair as his lips and tongue savored every part of you.

---

Your body was shaking after coming down from your fifth orgasm from your husband's mouth. A warm chill went up your spine as his tongue moved from your clit to your stomach, breasts, and neck, then captured your lips with his.

Another moan escaped from you as you felt him push himself inside you, still able to stretch you no matter how many times he's fucked you.

After having more fun in the cave, you enjoy the rest of your time on the catamaran, drinking and enjoying the ocean view.

It was now nighttime, and after taking a shower to wash off, you decided to cuddle in bed together and watch a show.

Resting your head against his chest, his arm wrapped around you, holding you close as your legs intertwined with his to keep your feet warm.

"I'm sad this honeymoon dream we're in will end in a week. But it also means the start of a new chapter in our lives, which I'm excited for."

Miguel looks at you with a loving smile as he brushes some of your hair behind your ear. "Every day with you is my dream. I love you, cariño."

"I love you more." You lean up and kiss him. He cups your cheek as his thumb grazes over it.

"I love you more than the universe and will for eternity."

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Two more to go!🥰

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