#and instead of backing straight back towards me....

[yois2aki]

wc. 0.8k

the front door slammed shut.

you flinched slightly at the sound, looking up from where you had been curled on the couch, a book resting in your lap.

caleb stood in the entryway, shoulders tense, his uniform jacket barely hanging onto his frame. he didn’t even bother to take off his gloves, his fingers clenched at his sides like he was barely keeping himself together.

you knew that look.

something had happened.

something bad.

“…caleb?” you called softly.

he didn’t answer.

instead, he exhaled sharply, storming past you and heading straight for the kitchen. you heard the sound of the fridge opening, the clatter of a bottle being pulled out.

you set your book aside, worry twisting in your stomach as you stood up and made your way toward him.

“hey,” you tried again, keeping your voice gentle. “what happened?”

he didn’t look at you.

“nothing.”

you frowned. “it’s obviously not nothing—”

“drop it.”

his tone was sharper than usual, almost a growl.

you hesitated.

caleb never talked to you like that.

you watched as he leaned against the counter, tilting his head back to take a long sip from the bottle in his hands. his jaw was clenched, his violet eyes dark with frustration, his entire body radiating tension.

he was seething.

something must have gone really wrong at work.

but that didn’t mean he could shut you out like this.

“…caleb, please,” you said quietly, stepping closer. “talk to me.”

he slammed the bottle down.

the sound made you jump.

caleb finally turned to you, his gaze sharp, his expression pulled tight with something unreadable.

“what do you want me to say?” he snapped. “that everything went to hell today? that i wasted an entire mission because someone on my team couldn’t follow orders? that i had to stand there and watch people get hurt because of a mistake i couldn’t control?”

you swallowed.

he wasn’t just frustrated. he was furious.

but it wasn’t just at the situation.

it was at himself.

“caleb, it’s not your fault—”

“isn’t it?”

his voice was harsh, biting, like he was daring you to disagree.

you faltered, unsure how to reach him like this.

he had been upset before—frustrated, annoyed, even angry—but never like this.

never so sharp.

never so cold.

“…i know you’re upset,” you said carefully, “but don’t take it out on me.”

caleb stiffened.

his eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe—but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head.

“forget it,” he muttered. “i need to cool off.”

he turned to leave, but something inside you twisted, something heavy and aching that refused to let him walk away like this.

“caleb.”

your voice wavered slightly.

he paused.

“…don’t shut me out.”

he didn’t move.

for a moment, there was only silence, stretching between you like a fragile thread.

then, finally—

his shoulders slumped.

the tension bled out of him all at once, like the fight had drained from his body completely.

“…damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

before you could say anything else, he turned back around and pulled you into his arms.

it wasn’t a soft embrace.

it was desperate. needy. like he had been holding himself together with nothing but sheer force of will, and the moment he touched you, he broke.

his fingers curled against your back, gripping onto you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

“…i’m sorry,” he breathed, voice rough with exhaustion.

your heart ached.

you wrapped your arms around him, holding him just as tightly, resting your cheek against his chest.

“i know,” you murmured. “it’s okay.”

he let out a shaky breath.

neither of you moved for a long time.

the storm inside him hadn’t passed completely—but at least now, he wasn’t facing it alone.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

When Simon kissed you goodbye and watched you excitedly rush to your friend’s car, he already knew that at some point that evening, he’d get a call from a fairly drunk you. What he didn’t expect though, was for that call to come from inside the police station.

“Simon? Simon, can you hear-,” your drunken giggles interrupted you. “me?” Little did you know that when he heard the typical “This is a call from xy police station. Do you accept the call?”, he had already put on his shoes and collected his car keys, rushing out of the house and to his truck.

“I can hear you love.” Your still joyful demeanor reassured him, but he still worried. “Are you okay? What happened?” In the background, he could hear the voices of you girlfriends, who sounded just as smashed as you. Another one of your giggles sounded through the phone, as you lowered your voice, trying to whisper, but it was pretty obvious that you were still loud enough to be heard. “I think-,” this time it was a hiccup that interrupted you. “-I think I did something bad.” Usually, Simon’s mind would immediately go to worst-case scenario, but you still sounded happy, so he managed to stay calm. Instead of panicking, he started the car and put you on speaker, pulling out of the driveway to make his way to the police station.

“I’ll be there in five, pretty. Can you wait for me?” You sighed happily, and he could almost picture you leaning against the wall and twirling your hair. “Oh Si, I’d wait forever for you.” He chuckled, and signed off with a quick ‘I love you’, before hanging up. Three minutes later, he walked into the brightly lit building and up to the front desk, seeing a familiar cop. As soon as Matt saw Simon, he just chuckled.

“Assumed she was yours. Kept talking about her big, scary boyfriend.” Simon chuckled as he shook his mate's hand. “How bad is it?” Matt shrugged and grabbed some keys leading Simon to the cells. “Just some public disturbance.” Simon nodded. “Charges?” “Nah. Mainly picked them up to keep them from getting into real trouble.”

The moment you saw Simon walking toward you, you squealed and thrust your arms through the bars. “Siiiiiiimooooon!” The blonde could only roll his eyes with a smile as he watched you, impatiently waiting for Matt to open the door, before you rushed into your boyfriend’s arms. He pulled you in tightly, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. After a moment, you glanced up at him, a pout on your lips.

“What’s got you pouting, pretty?” You turned and glared at Matt. “He took my tequila.” Matt raised his hands with a grin, shrugging before waving you two to follow him. “Well, we got more tequila at home.” Again you squealed, overjoyed that your drunken evening wasn’t over just yet, but when Matt turned to look at Simon with a raised eyebrow, the blonde just mouthed back ‘water’. The cop nodded with a grin, handing you a form, which you quickly signed before he handed over your personal items and bid you a good night.

As soon as you left the building, you rushed out ahead, leading to Simon quickly catching up and wrapping an arm tightly around your waist. He stirred you to his truck and quickly buckled you in, before jumping in the driver’s seat and pulling away.

“So…what did you do?” He swatted at your hand as you tried to turn up the volume of the radio. You pouted again, before sitting up straight, raising your hand and grinning at him. “I plead the fifth!” Simon chuckled, glancing at you, before focusing back on the road. “You’re in Britain, love. There ain’t no fifth.” Immediately, you slouched back down, glaring at the road. “Well, that’s bullshit.”

Before you knew it, Simon pulled into the driveway and helped you out of the car before gently leading you inside. You immediately tried to rush to the alcohol cabinet, but before you could, Simon pushed you to the bedroom. “But my tequilaaaa.” He pushed you until you sat down on the bed. “You change into your pjs and I’ll get you some tequila, okay?” You grinned and nodded, and Simon left the room, quickly filling a glass with water. On his way back, he picked up a bucket and some pain meds, planning to leave them on your nightstand.

But when he entered the bedroom again, he found you, half changed, and asleep. Still smiling, he sighed before putting everything down on your side of the bed. As gently as he could, he quickly changed you and wiped off your makeup, making sure you were as comfortable as possible, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep tight, love.”

A/N: Definitely did not write this while listening to "Plead the fifth" by Cooper Alan. I love that song.

[stxrsniolo]

⚠⠀┈⠀⠀teasing lazy sub!matt⠀⠀𓂃

⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒

⚙️ ⁞ alright, babes, heads up because this is about to get filthy, and I’m talking full-on smut, no filter, no shame; if you can’t handle the heat, bounce now, because i’m not holding back .ᐟ

⌞ a/n: i made sure to use structural repetition as a narrative device, repeating key phrases and ideas in this setting, so if you found repetition of some phrases, you're not going crazy babe. that was me and it was intentional ⌝

the air in matt’s room hung heavy with a lazy stillness, broken only by the faint sound of y/n’s fingers swiping across her phone screen as she scrolled through reddit, chuckling under her breath at some twisted meme or fucked-up story.

the door swung open with a creak and matt shuffled in, his brown hair a mess, gray hoodie wrinkled, and a scowl etched deep into his face. his blue eyes, half-lidded with exhaustion, barely flicked toward her before he collapsed onto the bed, flopping right on top of her like a dead weight.

“ughhh…” he groaned, his voice rough and lazy, as his heavy body settled against hers, his head burrowing into the crook of her neck. the scent of his cologne, mixed with a hint of sweat from hours in the car, filled the space between them, musky and intoxicating.

y/n let out a soft giggle, setting her phone aside to tangle her fingers in his hair, tugging lightly at the strands just to mess with him. “hey, grumpy. another day stuck with your chaotic brothers?”

“mmmgh…” matt mumbled, his voice muffled against her skin, not even bothering to lift his head. a low, whiny grunt escaped his throat, more out of laziness than actual annoyance. “they were a fuckin’ mess… nick screamin’, chris burpin’ like a damn animal… and i just wanted to sleep in the car, man.”

she laughed again, her hands sliding down the back of his neck, brushing over the warm skin beneath the collar of his hoodie. her nails grazed the sensitive spot just below his ear, making him shiver despite himself. “poor lil’ matt, always so dramatic…” she teased, knowing damn well he loved to complain just to get a reaction.

“shut up…” he muttered, but there was no bite to his words. Instead, his body melted even further into hers, his arms wrapping around her lazily as he nuzzled closer, like some grumpy, oversized cat. his eyes stayed shut, and his breathing slowed, almost like he was about to pass out right then and there.

but then, y/n felt it: a subtle but unmistakable brush against her thigh.

beneath the gray fabric of matt’s joggers, his dick was starting to stir, pressing against her with a mix of shyness and need, the heat of it radiating through the thin material. a wicked grin spread across her lips as she slid a hand down his body, pausing just at the waistband of his pants, her fingers hovering teasingly over the edge.

“ohhh, what’s this?” she whispered, her voice dripping with mockery as her fingers grazed the fabric, barely touching the hardness underneath, the outline of his cock was clear now, thick and straining, and she could feel it twitch under her touch. “looks like somebody ain’t that tired, huh?”

matt groaned again, this time with a hint of frustration, but he didn’t move. “mmm… ain’t my fault…” he grumbled, his tone whiny and lazy as he tried to cling to his pride. “it’s your fault for bein’ here… smellin’ good and… fuck, i dunno.”

y/n let out a low laugh, leaning down to whisper right into his ear, her warm breath tickling his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. “my fault? really, matt? beause it feels like your dick’s wide awake, even if you ain’t…” her tongue flicked out, tracing the shell of his ear, and matt let out a soft, whiny moan, the sound so lazy and pathetic it sent a jolt of heat straight between her legs.

but matt, stubborn as ever, didn’t ask for shit. Instead, he just shifted his hips slightly, rubbing himself against her thigh like that was gonna solve his problem, the friction making his joggers tent even more obscenely. it was pitiful, and at the same time, insanely hot, the way he was so desperate but too damn lazy to do anything about it.

“you’re such a lazy fuck, you know that?” she said, her tone laced with amusement as she slipped a hand under his hoodie, her nails dragging lightly over the skin of his stomach. his muscles tensed under her touch, and a shaky breath slipped past his lips, though he still refused to open his eyes. she pushed the hoodie up higher, exposing the lean lines of his torso, the faint trail of hair leading down to where his joggers hung low on his hips.

“mmgh… don’t fuck with me…” he mumbled, his voice cracking, but his hips betraying him as they moved again, seeking more friction, his dick now fully hard and pressing against her thigh like a goddamn heat-seeking missile.

y/n decided it was time to have some fun.

she shifted slowly, straddling him, her thighs clamping around his hips as she looked down at him from above. his eyes finally cracked open, pupils blown wide and cheeks faintly flushed, but his expression was still a mix of annoyance and laziness, like even being turned on was too much effort.

“what’re you doin’?” he muttered, his voice rough and whiny, though his hands instinctively landed on her thighs, gripping them weakly, his fingers digging into her skin just enough to show he wasn’t completely checked out.

“me?” she said, feigning innocence as she rocked her hips just once, grinding herself against the bulge in his joggers. the friction made him hiss, his head tipping back against the pillow, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “i’m just seein’ how long you’re gonna act like you don’t want this, mr. ‘i’m too tired.’”

“fuck off…” he groaned, but his hands tightened on her thighs, his nails digging into her skin as his dick twitched beneath her. he was so hard now, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric, thick and heavy, begging for attention, the tip already leaving a small wet spot where precum had soaked through.

she smirked, leaning down until her lips were just inches from his, her hair brushing against his cheek, her breath hot against his skin. “you’re so damn pathetic, matt,” she whispered, her voice low and teasing. “look at you, all hard and needy, but too damn lazy to do shit about it. you want me to take care of you, don’t you?”

he whined again, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips bucked up weakly, chasing the heat of her body, the friction making his cock throb even harder. “i didn’t say that…” he mumbled, but the way his voice trembled gave him away, his pride cracking under the weight of his need.

“oh, you didn’t say it,” she mocked, sliding her hands under his hoodie and pushing it up, exposing his chest. his skin was warm and smooth, his abdominal region tensing as her fingers traced over them, her nails leaving faint red lines in their wake. “but your dick’s sayin’ plenty, babe.”

she shifted again, dragging herself over his bulge, the friction making him groan louder this time, his head rolling back as his hands gripped her hips harder, his fingers digging into her flesh. “jeez… y/n, stop fuckin’ teasin’ me…” he whined, his voice breaking, but there was no real fight in him. he was too lazy, too submissive, too desperate.

“stop teasin’ you?” she repeated, her tone mockingly sweet as she slipped a hand between them, finally tugging his joggers down just enough to free his cock. it sprang up, thick and heavy, the tip already slick with precum, veins pulsing along the shaft, the head flushed a deep pink, glistening with need as she wrapped her fingers around it, giving it a slow, deliberate stroke, her thumb brushing over the slit, smearing the precum down the length, and matt let out a choked moan, his whole body shuddering beneath her.

“goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ hard,” she murmured, her voice dripping with lust as she watched his cock twitch in her hand, the skin hot and velvety under her touch, the weight of it heavy in her palm. “and you’re just gonna lie there, huh? lettin’ me do all the work?”

“damn… yeah, whatever…” he muttered, his voice barely audible as his hips bucked up into her hand, chasing the sensation, his cock throbbing with every stroke. his eyes were half-lidded, his lips parted, and his breathing was ragged, every sound he made lazy and whiny, like even moaning was too much effort.

y/n grinned, loving how easy it was to break him.

she shifted again, positioning herself over him, her panties brushing against the tip of his cock as she teased him one last time, dragging the soaked fabric over the sensitive head, the wetness mixing with his precum. “you’re such a lil’ bitch, matt,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “whiny, lazy, and so fuckin’ desperate for me…”

she peeled off her panties, tossing them aside, and matt’s eyes flicked down, catching a glimpse of her pussy, already glistening with arousal, the sight making him groan again, his cock twitching in anticipation. she leaned down, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “you wanna feel me, huh? wanna know how wet i am for you, even though you’re such a lazy fuck?”

“fuck… y/n, just… do it already…” he whined, his voice high and needy, his hands gripping her hips as he tried to pull her down, but she held herself just out of reach, loving the way he squirmed beneath her.

“beg for it, matt,” she said, her tone sharp and teasing as she rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance, letting him feel the heat, the slickness, but not giving him what he wanted. “c’mon, use that whiny lil’ voice and beg.”

he groaned, his pride fighting against his need, but finally, after a few more seconds of torture, he broke. “shit, y/n… please… just… fuckin’ ride me, okay?” he whined, his voice cracking, his blue eyes pleading as he looked up at her, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire.

y/n smirked, satisfied, and sank down onto him, taking him in inch by inch, the stretch making her gasp as his cock filled her completely, the thickness of it stretching her walls, the heat of it searing inside her. matt let out a loud, broken moan, his hands flying to her hips as his head tipped back, his whole body trembling beneath her, his cock pulsing inside her.

“fuck… fuck, y/n…” he whined, his voice high and needy, his hips twitching up weakly as she started to move, riding him slow and deliberate, drawing out every sensation, letting him feel every inch of her as she slid up and down his length. his cock felt incredible inside her, thick and pulsing, the ridges dragging against her walls with every thrust, the tip hitting that spot deep inside her that made her shiver.

she leaned down, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “you’re so goddamn loud, babe… love hearin’ you whine for me.” her words only made him moan louder, his hands gripping her ass as she picked up the pace, her hips slamming down onto him, the wet, filthy sounds of their bodies colliding filling the room, the slap of skin against skin mixing with matt’s desperate, whiny moans.

“god… don’t stop… shit, y/n, you’re killin’ me…” he gasped, his voice cracking as his cock throbbed inside her, so close to the edge, his hands squeezing her ass, his nails digging into her flesh as he tried to hold on. his face was a mess, flushed and sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, his mouth open as he panted and moaned, completely at her mercy.

y/n grinned, loving how wrecked he looked, how submissive he was beneath her, his pride long gone as he let her take control. she clenched around him, squeezing his cock with her pussy, and matt let out a choked cry, his hips bucking up hard, his whole body trembling as he teetered on the brink.

“mhh… y/n, i’m gonna… shit, i’m gonna cum…” he whined, his voice high and desperate, his eyes fluttering shut as his orgasm built, his cock twitching inside her, the heat of it overwhelming.

“do it, matt,” she whispered, her voice low and commanding as she rode him harder, her own climax building, the pressure coiling tight in her core. “cum for me, you lazy lil’ bitch…”

and that was all it took; matt let out a loud, broken moan, his hips jerking up as he came, his cock pulsing inside her, hot spurts of cum filling her as his whole body shuddered beneath her, his moans turning into soft, whiny whimpers as he rode out the aftershocks.

y/n followed right after, her own orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her pussy clenching around him as she gasped, her thighs trembling as she collapsed onto his chest, both of them panting and spent.

for a moment, the room was quiet, the only sound their heavy breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioning. matt lay there, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling, a lazy, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips despite his exhaustion.

“my bed's a mess now… and that was your fault…” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and whiny, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone as he cracked one eye open to look at her.

y/n laughed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as she leaned down to kiss him softly, her lips lingering against his. “sure, matt... whatever you say.”

╭ ❝ my dears, i truly cherish the affection you show through your reposts, and for that, i’m grateful; however, let us be unequivocally clear: my narratives are my sacred domain, not to be borrowed/reshaped without my consent ❞

• my baddies: @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @blushsturns @ariieeesworld @pixie-sticks-are-good @luvjaeeee @sturnslutz @mattswifeyy @mattswifeyy @oopsiedaisydeer @v4lsturn @pair-of-pantaloons @idkwhatthisevenislol

╰ ★ in case that you desire to be tagged in future works, here's the taglist.

[natsaffection]

Ghosted by You. | N.R

Spy!Natasha x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, stab wound

Word count: 3,7k

A/N: It’s based on this ask here! I tried to create the dynamics exactly like in the movie, but somehow also needed seriousness..🥸

You should’ve stayed home. You really should’ve stayed home..But no. Your brain, in its infinite wisdom, decided that after one amazing date, Natasha disappearing from your life had to mean something dramatic. That she was in trouble. That she needed you.

That she hadn’t just ghosted you because..oh, I don’t know, maybe she didn’t want to see you again. But did that logic stop you? No. Because instead of letting it go like a normal person, you tracked a random transaction on her credit card, hopped on a plane, and landed in London. And now? Now, you were tied to a goddamn chair in a dimly lit basement, with very angry men staring you down.

One of them paced in front of you, arms crossed. His accent was thick, British but rough, the kind that made you instinctively gulp. “Who sent you?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Who. Sent. You?” He leaned in, his breath hot against your face. “We know you work for the CIA.”

Your heart nearly stopped. “THE WHAT?!”

The second man sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes like you were personally wasting his time. “This one’s gonna be difficult.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wait, wait- hold on a second, you think I’m in the CIA?!” You let out a weak, breathless laugh. “Oh my God. Wait, I think I’m gonna throw up..”

“Cut the act.” The first man grabbed the chair, tilting it back so that you were nearly falling. “We know you were following Romanoff. What were you planning?”

Your what now? “Natasha? Natasha Romanoff?” You nearly choked on your own breath. “She’s, she’s a spy?!” The two men exchanged glances before the first one grumbled, “Great. The kid doesn’t even know.”

“Wait, hold on.” Your breathing was turning erratic, panic rising in your throat. “She told me she was a florist..?” The second man pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ.” You were spiraling. Your hands shook against the restraints, your brain struggling to process what the hell was happening.

“No! Wait, you don’t understand..” you stammered, words tumbling out too fast. “I literally just followed her because she ghosted me! I thought she wasn’t answering because she was in trouble! I-I thought I was being romantic!”

The first man just stared at you. “You followed a CIA agent across the world because she didn’t text you back?”

“…Yes?” For a second, neither man spoke. Then the first one turned to the other and said, “We should just kill her.”

“W-WHAT?! NO! No, that’s not necessary!” You wriggled against the ropes, full-on panicking. “I’m not a spy! I barely passed high school! I cried last week because my WiFi went out! Does that s-sound like someone who works for the CIA?!”

The second man pulled out a knife, twirling it between his fingers. “Too bad.” You squeezed your eyes shut. God, I’m gonna die. I’m actually gonna die because I followed a hot woman to London like a freaking idiot..

The door exploded inward. The first guy turned just in time for a bullet to tear straight through his shoulder. He collapsed with a scream. The second one lunged for his gun, but before he could even blink, Natasha stepped into the room, raised her pistol, and shot him twice in the chest.

Your brain short-circuited. Natasha didn’t hesitate. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink as she put a bullet between someone’s ribs. “Oh my God..” you whispered, eyes darting between the two men, one dead, one groaning in pain. “Oh my God, you!! You just killed-”

“Not now!” She stormed forward, cutting through your restraints with a huge-ass knife. “Are you hurt ?”

“YOU JUST SHOT TWO PEOPL-”She grabbed your wrist, yanking you to your feet. “I swear to God, Y/n, I will have this conversation later. Right now? Move.” She shoved you toward the door, and your legs felt like Jell-O. “I-I don’t think I can walk..” you stammered.

“Then crawl, I don’t care!” Gunfire erupted outside. Natasha grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind her as she stormed into the hallway, firing with precision. One man barely turned the corner before she put a bullet straight between his eyes. You screamed again. “Y/n, I will leave you here if you don’t MOVE!” she barked.

“What-” you whispered, watching people DROP like flies. “Don't look at them.” she snapped, grabbing your face and physically turning it away. “What the hell is happening?” Your breathing was getting worse, your chest tightening. “I—Natasha, I don’t- I don’t understand-”

She groaned. “Oh, for fu-”Before you could process, she picked you up. “N-Natasha!”

“Shut up!” She kicked a door open, carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “I can shoot faster when you’re not slowing me down!”

“I CAN RUN!”

“Clearly NOT!”

Gunfire shattered the walls behind you. Natasha spun, firing two bullets into the men chasing you. They collapsed instantly. Your breath hitched. “You’re killing them..” you whispered. Natasha didn’t hesitate. “And I’ll kill ten more if it gets us out of here alive!” Her coldness made your stomach drop.

You saw it now. The emptiness in her eyes, the precision, the way she fired without flinching. The woman you had been falling for, the one who had smiled at you over dinner, who had kissed you so softly..was a killer.

She caught your expression, saw the fear on your face and for a moment, her own softened. But there wasn’t time. She threw you into a stolen car, slammed the door, and sped into the streets. For a long time, you couldn’t speak.

“You’re scared of me now.” she said flatly, breaking the silence. Your mouth opened—closed. “You should be.” she muttered. Her hands were still covered in blood. You pressed yourself against the door, heartbeat pounding.

This wasn’t the Natasha you knew. This was someone else entirely. And you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into. The car ride was dead silent. You sat rigidly in the passenger seat, hands curled into fists on your lap, still shaking.

Natasha gripped the steering wheel like she wanted to break it in half. Her knuckles were white, her jaw clenched, and her entire body radiated fury. But you didn’t say anything. Because you were terrified. Your brain replayed it all on an endless loop, the gunfire, the bodies dropping, the blood on her hands.

You had thought she was a florist. You had kissed her, flirted with her, trusted her, And she had just killed six people without flinching. Your stomach churned. “Say something.” Natasha finally snapped, eyes still locked on the road. You swallowed, voice weak. “Where are we going?”

“A safe house.” A safe house. Right. Because that’s a normal thing to have. You nodded slowly, gripping the door handle like you might have to jump out of the moving car. Natasha let out a harsh breath, running a hand through her hair. “You’re still scared of me.” You flinched. Her grip on the wheel tightened. “I just saved your life, Y/n.”

“You also ended six others.” you whispered. The air in the car shifted. Her eyes flicked to you, calculating, cold. “That’s how this works.” You swallowed hard. “This?”

She exhaled sharply, looking back at the road. “You’re in my world now. You don’t get to judge me for doing what I have to do.”

“I didn’t ask to be in your world!” She let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? Because flying across the world to follow me sure as hell says otherwise.”

Your face flushed with anger. “I followed you because I thought you were in danger! Not because I wanted to be thrown into some goddamn murder spree!” Her grip on the wheel tightened.

“You think I wanted this?” Her voice was eerily calm. You hesitated. “I don’t- I don’t know what to think, Natasha.” She went silent.

The weight of the situation pressed down on you. The reality that you had just witnessed multiple murders. That you had watched Natasha—the woman you had been falling for, kill like it was nothing. Your chest tightened. Natasha let out a long, exhausted sigh and muttered, “We’ll talk when we get there.”

She parked in a dark alleyway, leading you through a maze of backstreets until you reached an abandoned-looking building. The second she closed the door behind you, she turned, eyes blazing. “What the hell were you even thinking?!”

You jumped. “Excuse me?!”

“You followed me across an ocean. You got kidnapped. You almost died!”

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE A SPY!”

“THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT BETTER!”

She stalked forward, and for the first time, you actually backed away. Her face immediately fell. You weren’t just arguing.

You were afraid of her. Natasha inhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Y/N…”

You pressed your back against the wall, shaking your head. “I don’t..” You swallowed hard, voice trembling. “I don’t know who you are.” Pain flickered across her face, but it was gone just as fast. She turned away from you, exhaling through her nose. “You shouldn’t have come.” she muttered.

“You could have just told me the truth!” She spun back, eyes flashing. “Are you out of your mind?! If I had told you- if you had known- you would’ve been in even more danger!”

Your stomach twisted. “Oh yeah? And what now?” You threw up your hands. “I know now, Natasha! I was just kidnapped and almost killed!” She winced. Just for a second.

Then, she stepped closer, voice dangerously low. “You want to know the truth?” she murmured. You swallowed. “No-”

“You would’ve been fine.” Her voice was cold, calculated. “If you had just stayed home. If you had just let me go. But now?” Her jaw clenched. “Now, you’re a target.”

Your stomach dropped. “Wait, what?” She sighed, rolling her shoulders. “They think you’re CIA. They think you know something. You don’t, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Your heartbeat thundered. “So- so what? What happens now?” She gave you a pointed look. “Now? I clean up your mess.” She grabbed a first aid kit and tossed it onto the table.

“Sit.”

“I’m fine-”

“Sit down.”

You gulped and sat. She grabbed your arm, not gentle but not rough and started cleaning the scrapes from where they had tied you up. The silence between you burned. You stared at her. At the red stains on her shirt. The blood on her hands. The way her shoulders were still tense from the fight.

She was different now. The Natasha who had laughed at your stupid jokes? The one who had kissed you in the rain? That Natasha was gone. Or maybe…maybe she was never real. She caught you staring. “What?” she muttered.

You hesitated. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Her hands froze. Then, she dropped the antiseptic, stood up, and turned away.

“…It was never supposed to go this far.” she admitted. Something inside you ached. Because deep down, you knew, this meant goodbye.

She exhaled sharply. “I’ll get you back to the States. I’ll make sure they lose your trail.” Your heart clenched. “You’re just sending me away?”

“Yes.”

“But I-” Your voice cracked. “What about you?” She looked away. “I’ll handle it.” Tears burned your eyes. “Natasha-”

“This isn’t your life, Y/n.” she said firmly. “It can’t be.” Your chest ached. You had risked everything to find her. And now, she was pushing you away. But deep down, you knew she was right. You weren’t built for this. For her. And it broke you. Natasha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll get you home tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Well..You and Natasha had been on the run for three days. Three days of gunfire, stolen cars, dodging assassins, and sleeping in dingy safe houses with barely enough time to breathe. Somewhere between nearly dying for the second time, sneaking across borders, and sharing a stolen coat for warmth, something between you shifted.

You weren’t just running anymore. You were running together. Natasha was still infuriating. She still rolled her eyes at your bad decisions, still called you reckless, still snapped at you for asking stupid questions. But now? Now she also held your hand when you got too cold. She taught you how to fire a gun, not that you were good at it, but she didn’t make fun of you when you missed.

She touched you more. Small, quick touches, her hand on your back, her fingers brushing yours. And most of all? She looked at you differently. Like she actually cared. Like sending you away wasn’t an option anymore. “We’re almost there.” Natasha muttered, pressing her hand to her earpiece. You both crouched behind a pile of rubble in an abandoned city square, panting from the last disaster of a shootout.

“Tell me ‘almost’ means we’re five minutes away from hot showers and real food..” you whispered. She gave you a dry look. “Try ten minutes and two more obstacles.”

You groaned. “Of course.”

“Look.” She pointed toward the far end of the square. A black helicopter was parked near an old church, CIA agents waiting by the doors. Your chest lightened. The helicopter was right there. You could hear the roar of the blades, see the CIA agents waiting, their weapons ready. Safety was so close you could taste it.

But of course..It was never that easy. You heard footsteps. Too many. And then, before you could react, an arm wrapped around your neck. Cold steel pressed against your throat. Your breath hitched. Natasha whipped around, gun raised. But it was too late.

The man holding you was grinning. He was tall, strong, covered in tactical gear. His knife dug into your skin just enough to make your pulse spike. More men emerged from the surrounding buildings, mercenaries, armed to the teeth. Your stomach twisted. You had walked right into a trap.

“Drop your weapons!!” the man holding you barked. The CIA agents hesitated. Natasha didn’t move. She stood rigid, her gun aimed directly at the man’s head. Her eyes burned. “If you touch her..” she said, voice dangerously low, “I’ll put a bullet between your eyes before you even think about blinking.”

The man chuckled. “Oh, Agent Romanoff. You care about this one, don’t you?” Her jaw clenched. “Drop. Your. Guns.” he ordered again. The agents exchanged glances. Natasha’s finger hovered over the trigger. You could feel her rage. The barely controlled violence. She was waiting for the right moment.

“Natasha.” you whispered, trying not to move against the blade. “Just go.” Her eyes snapped to you. And the way she looked at you, it was the kind of look that said she would burn the entire world down before leaving you behind.

“Not happening.” she said. Your heart clenched. Chaos Breaks Loose And then, everything happened at once. Natasha moved first. The bullet hit its mark, straight through the mercenary’s shoulder. His grip loosened just for a second. And that was all she needed.

You ripped yourself free, stumbling forward as gunfire exploded around you. The CIA agents opened fire. Natasha was a blur, taking down enemies like they were nothing. You scrambled backward, searching for cover, but the mercenary wasn’t done. He lunged.

And before you could react, the knife sank into your stomach. The second the knife plunged into your stomach, the world snapped into sharp, unbearable agony. You gasped, choking on your own breath, as fire erupted through your entire body. The blade twisted.

A raw, animalistic scream ripped from your throat. You collapsed, your legs giving out, your body feeling like it had been set on fire from the inside. The mercenary smirked. “Oops.” A bullet tore through his skull before he could even take another breath. His body dropped.

Her hands immediately pressed against your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. Her face was wild with panic, her breaths coming too fast, her usual iron control completely shattered. “No. No, no, no-” You couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had shoved glass into your stomach, and every breath dragged shards deeper into you.

“Nat..” Your voice broke. “It- It hurts..”

“I know, I know..” she nearly screamed, pressing down harder. The pain spiked. You choked, nearly blacking out right there. “Stay awake, Y/N!” Her voice was frantic, almost desperate. “Do you hear me? Stay awake!”

Your ears rang. You barely registered the CIA agents rushing toward you. “We have to move-” one of them started. Natasha snarled. “Get a Stretcher on that helicopter NOW!”

Your vision blurred at the edges. Your limbs felt too heavy, your fingers tingling as the blood poured out of you. You could hear shouting. Gunfire? More soldiers? More fighting? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you were cold. And so fucking tired.

Natasha’s arms wrapped around you as she hauled you up. “I got you, I got you.” she kept muttering, her voice wavering. You let out a weak whimper as she lifted you. The pain was indescribable. Like your entire insides had been ripped apart, burning, splitting, bleeding. “I know, just hold on, okay?” Her voice cracked badly.

She ran with you, gun still raised, still firing behind her. You felt the cold metal ramp beneath you as Natasha threw herself onto the aircraft, clutching you close. “Get us out of here!” she roared. The helicopter lurched. You barely registered it. All you could feel was pain. Someone was grabbing at you, pressing too hard on the wound.

“S-Stop..” you whimpered, the pressure making you see stars. Natasha snapped. “Be careful!”

“We’re trying to stop the bleeding!” a medic barked back. Natasha was breathing too fast. “She’s losing too much blood-”

“We know!” Your fingers trembled, reaching out. You didn’t even realize what you were doing until Natasha grabbed your hand. Her grip was tight and desperate. You tried to squeeze back, but you were too weak. That was when you saw it. The look in her eyes. The pure, unfiltered fear. Natasha was scared. Not of the bullets. Not of the mercenaries.

But of losing you. “Nat…” You barely got the word out. “Shh, it’s okay..” she whispered, pressing her forehead against yours. “Don’t talk. Just stay with me.” Your breath hitched. Everything was spinning. The medic’s voice faded. Your eyes fluttered shut.

Your body felt heavy. Everything ached. The dull beeping of a heart monitor filled the room. The scent of disinfectant burned your nose. You blinked against the blinding white light, your brain foggy, sluggish. Then, you heard her. “You better wake up soon, because if I did all of that for nothing, I swear to God-”

Her voice shook. Your lips parted. “Nat..?” The chair beside your bed screeched as someone jumped up. Hovering over you, her eyes wide, raw, frantic. “Oh my God.” You barely registered the way her hand grabbed yours, gripping it like she was afraid you’d disappear. You blinked up at her, throat dry. “Where…?”

“You’re in a hospital.” she said, her voice hoarse. You could tell she’d been awake for a long time. Your brows furrowed. “How long?”

Natasha hesitated. “…Three days.” Your breath hitched. “Three..?”

“You almost died, Y/N.” Her jaw clenched. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was?!” Ah. There it was. The anger. The Romanoff rage. You offered a weak smile. “Saved your life, though.” Her eyes flashed. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t joke about this!” Her grip on your hand tightened. You swallowed, watching her. Because beneath the anger…She looked wrecked. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair a mess. Still wearing the same clothes from the extraction. “Have you even left this room?” you asked quietly. She exhaled sharply, avoiding your gaze.

You sighed, shifting slightly, then immediately regretted it. White-hot pain tore through your stomach, forcing a shaky breath from your lips. Natasha’s head snapped back toward you. “Hey, hey-” She reached out, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you from moving. “Don’t do that. Just..stay still.”

“…Natasha.” you murmured. “It’s not your fault.” Her jaw tightened. “Yes, it is.” Guilt..The Romanoff Way of Suffering She stood up, pacing.

“You were supposed to be safe. You were supposed to be on the helicopter. Not..Not bleeding out in my arms..” You watched her. “You saved me.” you pointed out.

She let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? And look at you now.” You exhaled, trying to push through the pain. “You would have died.” you said softly. “That guy was gonna kill you, Nat.”

Her eyes snapped to you. And something cracked. “Then maybe I should have let him.” Your stomach dropped. “No.”

She shook her head, running a shaky hand through her hair. “I should have protected you. I should have been faster. I should have-”

“Stop.” She froze. You struggled to sit up, ignoring the way your body screamed in protest. “Natasha, look at me.”

She did. Her expression was so raw, so pained. “You think I regret saving you?” you whispered. She swallowed, lips pressed together. You reached out, grabbing her wrist. “You think I’d rather be lying in a grave than here?” She exhaled sharply. “…You almost were.”

“But I’m not.” you murmured. “Because of you.” She looked away. You squeezed her hand. “Nat.” Nothing.

“Natasha.” Her jaw tensed. Finally, after what felt like forever, she turned back. And the moment she met your gaze, something inside her broke. Because suddenly, her arms were around you. Holding you so tight it should have hurt, but you didn’t care. You felt her shudder.

“Hey..” you murmured, pressing your face against her shoulder. “I’m okay.” She shook her head. “You almost weren’t..”

“But I am.” She let out a shaky breath. Her grip didn’t loosen. You hesitated, then turned your head slightly, whispering against her skin. “I’d do it again.”

She stiffened. Then, she pulled back, her eyes burning. “If you ever do something that reckless again, I will personally kill you myself.”

You grinned. “I swear to God, Y/N-” You grabbed the front of her jacket and kissed her.

-

-

-

-

[svtiddiess]

hi! can i req a drabble for seungcheol + no. 127 & 134 from the second prompt list (fluff+smut | prompts pt. 2)? thank you!

"I Think I Might Be Dying...These May Be My Last Words." + "Someone Might See Us!" + "Isn't That The Fun Of It, Love?"

Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive, non-idol! au, established relationship, drabble

Rating: suggestive/mature

Word count: 0.6k

Note: I changed it up just a tiny bit, I hope you don't mind!

Request a drabble from me using these prompts!

You're at a business event with your husband, Seungcheol. The evening is meant for networking, building connections, and sealing deals, but here he is, clinging to you like an overly dramatic puppy instead of playing the part of the composed CEO he's supposed to be.

"I think I might be dying…these may be my last words," he groans dramatically, his arms wrapped around you as he buries his face into your shoulder. He looks up at you with those puppy eyes, his lips forming an exaggerated pout.

You sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. The CEO of a multinational corporation, reduced to whining over a minor cough. Honestly, it’s embarrassing.

"Cheol, it’s just a cough. If you don't quit whining, the only thing killing you today will be my bare hands around your neck," you huff, trying to sound stern but failing to hide your amusement.

He lets out a soft whine, nuzzling further into the crook of your neck. It's painfully obvious he doesn't want to be here and is doing everything in his power to convince you to leave.

"Please~?" he mumbles against your skin, his voice dripping with faux desperation.

"Cheol, you know this is important. We're here to network and make deals, not to sulk," you remind him.

"But it's so boring," he whines, pulling back just enough to look at you. "I'd much rather be at home…doing you."

"Cheol!" you hiss, glancing around to make sure no one overheard. Thankfully, the nearest guests are far enough away to be out of earshot.

He smirks, his hands shifting from a casual hold to something more deliberate, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"Don't act like you’d rather be here than under me, love," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

Your face heats up at his words, and as much as you hate to admit it, his little act is working. The way his hands slide down to rest on your hips, his fingers brushing against the curve of your ass, is making it hard to focus on anything else.

"Cheol," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

"You know how good I'd treat you," he continues, his lips brushing against your ear. "I’d make you come with just my tongue at least twice before stretching you out with my fingers."

You bite your lip to stifle a whimper, your body betraying you as it responds to his words. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer as his lips trail along your jaw.

"And then," he whispers, his voice rough, "I’d give you my cock. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being fucked so good you can't think straight."

Your breath hitches, and you’re suddenly very aware of how much you'd rather be anywhere but here. Maybe leaving early wouldn't be the worst idea.

Seungcheol leans back slightly, his hand cupping your chin as he tilts your face toward his. His smirk is downright sinful.

"I think I just figured out the perfect cure for my cough," he says, his voice dripping with mischief.

"What is it?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"You," he purrs before grabbing your hand and leading you away from the crowd.

You let out a small yelp as he pulls you into an empty room, his lips immediately finding your neck as his hands roam over your body.

"Ch-Cheol! Someone might see us!" you protest, though your voice lacks any real conviction.

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "Isn't that the fun of it, love?" he whispers before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @foxiesgf24 @livelaughloveseventeen @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @brownsugarbaybee

[kinda-indecisive]

.⋅ ˚̣✧ :–⭒  Lingering Affections pt. II⭒–:✧ ˚̣⋅ .

How I imagine the guys would react to you (MC) surprising them with a kiss that lingers a bit longer than expected. Caleb's was a little more angsty than I meant, but he's just so angst-coded!

Part 2: The Zayne, Sylus and Caleb Edition! 

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

Zayne 

Continuing to pout, you hold on as he rolls your office chair toward him.

“Don’t be a meanie,” you sulk, as if the doctor had personally offended you and not the random cat from the video you two had been watching.

“I was hardly being a ‘meanie’ and merely stated a fact. That cat couldn’t manage the jump onto the counter because it was too fat,” he reiterates. You continue to keep your back to him and he chuckles, pushing your hair away from your neck and laying his chin on your shoulder, “But I never said it wasn’t cute.”

You snort, then laugh, eagerly reaching back. You feel the corner of his mouth raise in a soft smile as he presses his cheek to your palm.

His voice is a hum when he speaks, “Thank you for today’s lunch.”

“You deserve it.”

The statement is obvious whether you’re taking today’s actions into account or not. Zayne is a paragon of everything a doctor should be. 

Today’s example? He had to postpone your original lunch plans because of a new patient of his. The man had undergone a big procedure and Zayne didn’t want to leave the hospital in case there was an emergency or if there was something else that prevented the patient from getting adjusted while he was out.

Hearing his reason for canceling, you decided to bring lunch to him, happy to spend any time with him, even if it meant he’d be called away at any minute.

As fate would have it, the patient is well and Zayne wasn’t needed, therefore you two have been able to enjoy an entire lunch together, giggling over silly videos on your phone and chatting about the trip you are planning for next month when things are expected to be less busy at the hospital.

You’re in such a good mood, you don’t even mind that the end of his lunch break is looming ever nearer.

The casual thought makes you check the time and Zayne tenses in surprise when you shoot up straight in your chair.

“Is everything alright?” he inquires, concern lacing his voice as he watches you stand.

“I’m late! I didn’t realize your lunch break was over. I told Jenna I’d have that report in before 4 and I’m not exactly close to finishing it,” you frown, wondering what compelled you to empty nearly all the contents of your bag in Zayne’s office during your visit.

While helping you get yourself in order, he offers, “I’m sure there’s a computer here in the hospital you could use. Even mine, if it’s that important.”

“I would, but I left the paperwork related to the report on my desk back at the Association. I wouldn’t be able to complete it without referencing it and I can’t reference it if I don’t have it on me.” 

“I would offer to drive you--” he begins and you cut him off, touching his forearm.

“You have work to do,” you reassure, “I promise, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me call you a cab,” he suggests, “Otherwise you’ll be exhausted from running back to the Association and pass out at your desk before getting anything done.”

You accept his offer only because he has a point. You begin to open the door before suddenly turning on your heel. Zayne has his phone in hand and stops abruptly, having intended to escort you out. 

“Is there something else?” he asks, a small frown between his eyebrows.

You stand on your toes to kiss his cheek, then quickly change your mind to find his lips instead.

He is by no means a stranger to your kisses these days, but the suddenness of this one takes him by surprise and he tenses for a split second before sighing softly and hooking a finger under your chin, his other arm closing around your waist as he draws you closer.

When you two part, he looks at you with those piercing eyes turned soft from your lingering affections.

“What was that for?” he asks, his voice only slightly teasing.

“I enjoyed our date today, Dr. Zayne.”

“Well… I’m glad.”

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

Sylus 

This is supposed to be a quick trip. Your role is to attend the auction like normal while Sylus shakes down some big, bad bosses upstairs using intimidation tactics that only he is capable of. It’s a typical mission you’ve done with Sylus over a hundred times now. However, from the second you arrived at today’s auction, you found yourself growing more and more agitated.

You’re used to the looks of others as you and Sylus walk together. A man with his presence is hard to miss; not to mention that he just so happens to be one of, if not the most attractive men anyone here has ever seen in their entire lives. So of course people are going to look. But that doesn’t explain why it’s really getting on your nerves today.

“You’ve gone quiet on me. Is everything alright?” Sylus asks, that teasing tone in his voice, though he fails to hide the gentle concern in his eyes.

“Everything’s fine, Sy,” you reassure, then gesture toward the crowd, “Didn’t you say I’d be handling things down here at the auction while you took care of business upstairs?”

You stop walking and turn to look up at him. At the corner of your eye, you register movement and, for the faintest of seconds, you make eye contact with one of the women who has been watching Sylus with a keen interest. As a matter of fact, this woman had been outside on the balcony when the two of you arrived and must have come in intending to intercept and introduce herself.

Or it could be a coincidence.

When her eyes land on Sylus again, seeming to appraise the width of his aggravatingly broad shoulders, you are certain it’s no mere coincidence.

“...again. Are you certain you’re up to doing this tonight?” he asks with a deep frown and you realize you had accidentally blocked out what he was saying. It’s not hard to guess, though.

“I’m perfectly alright,” you insist, “You go. We’ll do everything as planned and then go home, right?”

You feel a little guilty for the way he looks at you right now, concern etched into the corners of his deep, crimson eyes. After a long moment, he sighs.

“Alright, we’ll stick to the plan,” he says, thoughtlessly brushing off jacket sleeve, “Though you’ll tell me instantly if something’s wrong.”

It’s a command, not a suggestion, and you nod with an innocent smile.

He regards you for another second before leaning down and pressing a quick, departing kiss on your cheek.

This is your chance! Seeing the silhouette of the same woman looming ever nearer, you drape your arms around his shoulders before he straightens up and bring your lips to his.

Warmth fills you from head to toe and you feel his heavy hand hesitate for no more than a second before landing delicately against your waist.

You linger, but not too long. Just enough, however, to feel his shoulders soften beneath your forearms.

When you lean back, he opens his eyes, looking at you through heavy lids that make your stomach flip. After a second of collecting himself, he speaks, his voice coming from even deeper in his chest than usual. 

“Now I know for certain that you’re up to something…” he purrs.

Still a little warm in the face yourself, you admit in a small voice, “She wouldn’t take her eyes off you. Or didn’t you notice?”

His eyebrows raise ever so slightly, the concern disappearing from his features instantly, only to be replaced by his usual humored, smug little smile.

“Who is there to notice, sweetie? You’re the only other person who exists in the entire Universe,” he hums, bringing his fingertips to the side of your face with feather-light touches, “Although…”

“Although…?” you question, putting a gentle warning in your voice that he acknowledges with a soft chuckle.

“Although I like the idea of you staking your claim on what’s yours, kitten,” he says, straightening up as you watch the woman turn away as if she’d merely taken the wrong turn, “And I like the idea of being indisputably yours.”

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

Caleb 

Caleb was leaving again. It was something you were starting to get used to. He’ll come down from Skyhaven for a day or two, sometimes a week if you were lucky, then take off again for weeks at a time. You know it could be worse; you survived the worst of the worst after the incident, and you always try to remind yourself of that.

You remind yourself, also, that you can always get a response from him when he’s in Skyhaven. That, knowing him, even if he were in the far-out depths of the Deepspace Tunnel he would do everything in his power to find a way to get a message out to you if he needed to.

This still doesn’t make his departures any easier.

He has no doubt noticed your silence. It would be hard not to, even if he weren’t eternally hyper-observant toward your every discomfort. And crammed into the back seat of the cab together you’re certain he feels it.

And it’s not like you’re angry at him. You had a great time with him this week. Every day after work he was there to pick you up from the Association with a ready smile and plans for your evening. Always guessing exactly when you were too exhausted to go out and already having a backup plan of a homecooked meal and a silly movie from your childhood lined up.

You two went shopping for groceries together, met up with friends, and even managed to get a private viewing of young Caleb’s favorite aviation exhibit at the museum after it closed for the day.

This week was perfect.

Maybe that’s why you’re feeling so frustrated right now. You don’t want to give him up to the stupid fleet and the others in Skyhaven who you’re 100% certain he cannot fully trust even 50% of and that scares and annoys you. 

The cab comes to a stop and you get out, startling a little when Caleb clears his throat, “Got a lot on your mind?”

You blink, looking up at him. Then, “Oh… I’m fine.”

He continues to peer down at you, reaching out with the hand that isn’t carrying his suitcase to touch your cheek.

“That wasn’t very convincing at all.”

Sighing, you place your hand over his and lock his fingers between your own. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumble and he grins even wider.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice oozing with that same annoying playfulness that has made you wanna tackle him to the ground for as long as you can remember, “Come on, let’s go inside. It’s chilly out here.”

Your fingers still intertwined, you allow him to guide you into the train station. The further into the area you go, the more you feel the urge to yank him to a stop. To whine and complain until he has to give in and stay in Linkon City for as long as you like.

You sigh at how childish the thought is and keep walking even when you hear the announcement of his train’s arrival in five minutes.

His brisk walk finally slows and he stops at a bench, gesturing for you to sit. You hesitate for a moment before shaking your head. He frowns, his head tilting as he tries to get a better look at your face.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks innocently.

“No,” you respond, stealing a quick glance at the arrival times one more time. Caleb catches the movement and looks over his shoulder, grimacing slightly at the numbers.

His entire body tenses when you suddenly hook an arm around his shoulders and yank him down toward you, your lips finding their target effortlessly as you kiss him as deeply as you dare in public.

His eyes are as wide as saucers when you part, his guard completely faltering and crumbling before you. He tries to play it off, however, chuckling, “Geez, pip-squeak. Your training at the Hunter Association has paid off. You could have folded me in half with that move.”

Unable to resist a giggle, you bury your face in his chest, murmuring, “I know you know how to watch your back, Caleb. But… be extra careful out there. For me?”

“Of course,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his voice suddenly full of emotion as he realizes what’s been eating you up all morning, “You’re my reason for everything, you know that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Previous Post ←(･ ᗜ ･)ﾉ

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MY LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Sleep - A Javier Peña Drabble

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader Rating: Explicit as heck. When isn't it with him? Unprotected p in v. Word Count: 1428 a/n: I blame @norththelemon for this. Or rather...I thank @norththelemon for this (and for that Valentine's Peña art).

"Javier, come to bed."

Your voice is nothing more than a soft whisper against his neck, your arms slung over his shoulders as you try to convince him to hang up the phone. He's been at it for hours, grumbling as he picks up the receiver, complaining when he finally puts it back down, no further than he was five hours before. You watched as he spent what felt like forever pinching the bridge of his nose, his shoulders tensing in a way that told you anger was simmering just beneath the surface. Emotions he often only kept in check because you were there to help smooth the edges.

And yet, he kept at it. The hours ticked by as you watched him work, the clock chiming when you rose to head to bed alone, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you passed the folding table and spare dining room chair he'd set up in the corner of the apartment as a makeshift desk. It was only when you were sick of being unable to sleep without his arms wrapped around you that your feet carried you to where he was still sitting in front of the miscellaneous array of files he'd brought home to contemplate endlessly.

You missed him, that much was obvious, even if you knew why he had to focus.

But tonight, right now, you could feel the exhaustion in his stiff muscles as your fingers traced over his upper back. His whispered promises of "just a little longer" and "soon, Cariño" and "I'll be there in a minute" falling on deaf ears as you wrap your fingers around his to pull the receiver from his grasp, placing it back on the stand.

You wind your way around him, his hand still in yours as you bring his wrist to your lips, pressing against the pulse point on the inner side as you perch in his lap. The anxiety and frustration melt from his frame as you work your way up his arm and toward your final destination, your weight on his thighs serving as some kind of signal that runs straight to his brain.

And to his hardening length trapped between you.

"I'm almost done," he assures you, his actions telling a very different story as he pulls you closer, large hands guiding your hips against him as your lips return to the spot just beneath his ear. "Cariño?" he questions when you refuse to move, latching onto his skin instead.

You laugh lightly in the crook of his neck. "You said that last time," you whisper before returning to the task at hand, working at his skin until he lets his head fall back. The movement allows you to trail a bit lower, and you keep him in place as you etch a second mark that he's sure to wear proudly tomorrow.

"I mean it this time," he insists, although you can hear the smile in his voice, the telltale sign that what you're doing is working. He doesn't fight you as you ease his head to one side, granting you better access while his own fingers find their way beneath the edge of the button down you stole from his hamper and along the lace of your panties. The path to your center is a familiar trail for Javier, and when his touch finds the pool of wetness between your thighs you're helpless to do anything but squirm in his embrace.

"I doubt that," you return, pulling back to admire your work, the skin behind his ear already darkening. You meet his gaze, your breath heavy as he continues to swipe through your center.

You can't stop the whimper you make when he shifts you just enough to free his cock from the confines of his jeans, pulling you back against him so your thighs are spread wide around his hips. He guides you along his length under the thin layer of fabric that still separates you. "Is this why you wanted me to come to bed?" he breathes out, his own lips now working along your collarbone to brand you with a mark identical to the ones you left on him. "Couldn't sleep without coming?"

You know he won't believe you when you shake your head, but you do it anyway. "Wanted you to get some sleep." It's an honest answer, because after watching him pour over paperwork all day, you know he needs release more than you do, whether it's buried inside you or by giving into the exhaustion you can clearly see etched into the lines of his face.

Or, preferably, both.

Javi pinches your skin between his teeth, eliciting a cry when the sharp twinge of pain sends a new rush of arousal straight to where you're grinding against him. His breath is warm against your neck as he laughs, one of his hands sneaking between you again to shift the now ruined fabric to one side.

"Answer me," he demands, one finger slipping inside you briefly. "Do you need to feel my release dripping down your thighs to fall asleep?"

You nod quickly, any kind of coherent response escaping you as you use the last of your consciousness to lift yourself from his lap just far enough to catch his tip at your entrance. You arch against him when you sink down, wedging him deeper until you're flush against one another. "Fuck, Javier," you moan when he lifts you again, leading your hips to parallel the rough thrust of his own.

It's impossible to know when he managed to unbutton the shirt covering your torso, your own fingers struggling to undo the closures of the pink shirt over his own shoulders. You give up after just one because then you're distracted by the way he's buried his head between your breasts, nipping at the newly exposed skin in an attempt to force you higher. With how tightly he's holding you movement feels inconceivable, but he manages to rut into you regardless, his length pressing against your cervix.

"Come on, baby. Come for me so you can go to sleep," he encourages against your slick skin when you begin to clench around him.

It takes everything in you to fight off your climax with the hope that he'll follow you straight over the edge. "Need you to come back to bed, too," you moan.

Javier hears nothing of it, cutting you off with another pinch of your skin between his teeth. "I will, baby. Right after you come for me." He manages to lift you once, just enough so he can snap you back against him and hold you there. "Gonna make you come and then carry you to bed and fall asleep while I'm still buried inside you."

The thought is what forces you over the edge, your walls clenching around his cock as every muscle in your body tightens, head thrown back in a silent cry. He holds you up, hands warm against the bare skin of your back.

"That's it, baby. That's it," he mutters against you, talking you through it as he tries to work himself as deep as possible until he's spilling inside you with a grunt. He shudders beneath you when you collapse against him, lips pressing soft kisses to the expanse of his chest that you were able to expose earlier.

You still feel impossibly full with the way he's holding you, the old chair creaking beneath your combined weight. It's comfortable, wrapped in his embrace this way, and you're reluctant to move, even though you know you must. "Come to bed, Javier," you mutter, repeating your request from earlier.

He says nothing, and you're certain he's about to deny you again, but when you pull back you find him sitting with his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face for the first time in days.

"Javier?"

He hums, opening his tired eyes. "Yes, Cariño?"

"Bed," you order with a soft laugh, pushing back slightly damp curls to press a kiss to his forehead.

He doesn't argue further as you carefully free yourself from his grasp and guide him to the bedroom, ridding him of his clothes and letting the shirt fall from your shoulders to the floor. Javi lets out a heavy sigh the second his head hits the pillow, his hands tugging you against him.

"Sleep, love," you whisper against his skin, lips pressing soft kisses against each of the harsh marks you left on his neck before drifting off, secure in his embrace.

[carnalcrows]

CAN’T SLEEP? - THANOS & NAMGYU

pairing: top! thanos x bottom! namgyu x top male reader

synopsis: Desperate times call for desperate measures

content warnings: 18+, bottom namgyu, top thanos, dry humping, threesome, public sec (but no actual sex ahahah).

word count: 1.0k

A/N: not too happy with this haha... how does one write dry humping

The dorms were stifling at lights-out. The kind of heat that clung to your skin, made everything feel heavier. After the day's game—one that left bodies scattered across the arena—everyone who was still breathing had collapsed the moment they hit their bunks.

You weren’t so lucky.

Because somehow, through the worst luck imaginable, you ended up in the world’s most uncomfortable human sandwich.

Namgyu was wedged between you and Thanos. And for once, you and Thanos had something in common: neither of you were happy about it.

"Can you stop moving?" you muttered under your breath, shifting slightly as Namgyu squirmed between you.

"I’m trying," Namgyu whispered back, voice thick with exhaustion. "But Thanos keeps pressing into me."

"You’re the one pressing into me," Thanos shot back, equally irritated.

"Okay, both of you shut up," you groaned. "If the guards hear us, we’re dead."

The three of you fell into tense silence, the only sound in the room the quiet breathing of the other survivors. The heat, the cramped space, the feeling of Namgyu’s body shifting slightly between you—it all made for an unbearable kind of awareness.

Then Namgyu exhaled, shifting just a little more, and— Your breath hitched.

It was ridiculous how little it took. A simple shift, a brush of skin against skin, and suddenly the tension was thick enough to suffocate. Namgyu must have felt it too because he stilled, caught between you and Thanos, the warmth of his breath ghosting against your neck.

Neither you nor Thanos moved.

Namgyu swallowed.

And then—

One thing led to another.

Namgyu’s lips met yours, warm and desperate, and your body reacted before your brain could process what was happening. You kissed him back, hands gripping onto his shirt, pulling him closer despite the sweat sticking to your skin. His mouth moved eagerly against yours, a messy clash of lips and breath, like he needed this—like you all did.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulled away, panting. A sharp breath, a shift in movement—

And then Namgyu was kissing Thanos.

The sheer absurdity of it should’ve made you recoil. But instead, all you could do was watch, heat pooling in your stomach as Thanos—who you were convinced had no romantic bone in his body—actually melted into it. His hands, rough from the games, tangled in Namgyu’s hair, and the sound he made—low, muffled—sent a jolt straight through you.

You weren’t sure if it was jealousy, irritation, or something else entirely that made you grab Namgyu’s chin and pull him back toward you. His lips were swollen, his breath unsteady, and he barely had time to exhale before you kissed him again, teeth knocking clumsily. It was messy, frenzied, desperate—like the last good thing before the world swallowed you whole.

Thanos cursed under his breath, his hands gripping at Namgyu’s hips as if trying to steady himself. You could feel his gaze burning into you, filled with something between competition and unspoken agreement. The tension was thick, the shared breaths ragged, and the air felt charged with something neither of you dared to name.

And yet, somehow—despite the heat, the exhaustion, the absolute insanity of the situation—you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Namgyu barely had time to catch his breath before Thanos yanked him back, pressing their mouths together in something far too heated for two guys who pretended not to like each other. You stared, panting, heart hammering against your ribs as Namgyu let out a muffled noise—surprised at first, then melting into it. His hands curled into Thanos’ shirt, body pressing further between the two of you.

Your jaw clenched. You didn’t even like Thanos. You could barely stand the guy. But watching Namgyu get passed between you like a shared secret, his breath hitching, his lips puffy from the sheer desperation of it all—something inside you snapped.

Before you could overthink it, you grabbed Namgyu by the chin and pulled him back to you, kissing him just as hungrily as before. He whined against your mouth, clutching at you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. And then—damn it—you felt Thanos move in behind him, pressing close, mouth dragging along the side of Namgyu’s neck, his breath hot against his skin.

You shuddered, glaring over Namgyu’s shoulder. “Don’t get too comfortable, big guy.”

Thanos only smirked, dark eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Right back at you.”

Namgyu groaned between you, tilting his head back against Thanos’ shoulder, completely lost in it. “Shut up, both of you,” he muttered, voice breathy.

Fair enough.

You kissed him again, slower this time—lingering, savoring. Thanos did the same, lips trailing along Namgyu’s jaw, down his throat. The heat between you all was unbearable, tension twisting tighter and tighter like a rope ready to snap. The dorm was silent except for the sound of ragged breathing, the occasional muffled groan, the rustling of sheets as you shifted, pulling Namgyu closer, holding him tighter.

You felt something hard against your thigh– enveloping the softness of the trackpats.

Oh.

Namgyu looked up at you, his lashes laced with tears. When did that happen?

Mumbling an apology, he experimentally pushed his crotch forward into your thigh, breath stuttering as his head leaned back into Thanos, giving the purple-haired man more access to his neck. 

Namgyu continued rutting against your thigh as you held him in place, his hands covering his mouth to muffle any moans. You felt your own cock harden in your pants, who knew that a man dry humping on your thigh could be so…arousing?

It seemed that you weren’t the only one that thought so. Thanos’ grip on Namgyu’s waist had tightened significantly– he pushed his crotch into the crevice of Namgyu’s ass, muffling his groans in the crook of the other man's neck.

Your hand slipped from Namgyu’s waist to the hem of his track pants, sliding it down a bit to reveal his hardened length, slick with precum.

You flicked your thumb over his tip– eliciting a low whine from the other man. Thanos– feeling left out of the action, brought one of his hands forward to cup the base of Namgyu’s cock– pressing it gently, which seemed so out of character for someone like him (or maybe you just dislike the guy, who knows).

Namyu’s back arched into Thanos– he felt himself on the verge of a release, and then–

“...”

The three of you looked up from your haze into none other than Player 001.

You were fucked.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[dramioneasks]

Valentine’s Day Fics (2025)

Hermione Granger and the Time she got Drunk and Ended up Naked and Fucked Mindless in Draco Malfoy's Car by ObsessivelyReading - E, one-shot - Hermione is single and ready to mingle on Valentine's Day, the only thing? The bar she chose doesn't have a single single person in sight. She decides to drown her sorrows in liquor until she can't see straight anymore. When the bartender calls Harry to pick her up and he sends Draco instead, well let's just say he's the tall glass of water that she's been waiting for.

Just the way you are by jayredj40 - not rated, one-shot - Hermione Granger reluctantly agrees to a Valentines dinner with Draco Malfoy. As the evening unfolds with intimate moments and delicious food, old tensions melt away. Their connection deepens, leading to a tender moment that marks the beginning of something unexpected.

taste me (when he’s kissin’ you) by riddikulus_puff - E, one-shot - The olive-tan woman’s dark emerald lingerie — cupped her heavy breasts perfectly and swallowed her figure in the most alluring way — vocally called out, reaching towards Draco as he lounged back against the plush satin chair. There was something oddly magic about her, like a crackling of enchantments bubbling around her figure. He felt as though it was only the two of them — him and her — in the darkened Muggle club. [Draco x Hermione x Theo]

precautions by OneEqualTemper - E, one-shot - “I missed you,” he breathes, unable to think of a witty reply. “Gods, Hermione, I missed you.” or: a secret relationship. a clandestine meeting under the cover of darkness.

A Recipe for Romance by DaniRegs - E, 4 chapters - Hermione Granger, bakery owner and former war heroine, never expected a mysterious Valentine’s invitation—least of all from Draco Malfoy. For years, he’s been a quiet constant in her shop, all black coffee and brooding glances. But this Valentine’s Day is only the beginning of something far sweeter than she ever imagined.

Not another Valentine's Day Story by Heiura_Valencia_88 - T, one-shot - In the aftermath of the war, Hogwarts reopens, and Headmistress McGonagall introduces a enchanted parchment system for anonymous correspondance between students. 'Prince' and 'Goldilocks' begin to talk, pouring their minds into the scroll, and joining together through it. The scroll will release a condition, on Valentine's night, that will allow them to meet face to face.

Will you be mine, Lupercalentine? by brittbaird_art, orphan_account, sarahdipity613, So_scarlett_maroon, thedramionearchives (dittanyanddreams) - E, 2 chapters - Hermione’s Valentine’s Day is off to a rough start. She forgot to wear red; Harry accidentally announced this fact to an entire lift at the ministry, and Draco Malfoy practically fell on top of her on her way to her office. But when that fall causes them to be magically bound to each other for the day, Hermione realizes things are going to get worse before they get better.

I think you know what this is… by ethereal_mads - E, 3 chapters - "I think you know what this is…" Newly divorced Hermione Granger does the most impulsive thing of her entire life: she buys herself a ridiculously expensive sports car and books herself a pre-paid spa weekend at a five-star hotel in the Lake District for her first Valentine's Day alone in eleven years. The only problem is, about halfway there, her fancy car breaks down in the middle of a snowy one-lane country road surrounded by sheep fields. With a nearly dead phone and only one auto repair shop in the area, Hermione finds herself out of luck. Or… until she meets the sole owner of the shop: Draco Malfoy. The man who disappeared off the face of magical existence three years prior. How many things can one do in a sports car? Well, Hermione is determined to find out. Inspired by "Sports Car" by Tate McRae

Crazy by katana_girl - G, one-shot - Happy Valentine’s Day to our morons (and an exhausting one to their best friends!)

Valentine Muse by dreomionedarling - E, one-shot - It’s a very special Valentine’s Day for Draco as he manages to convince Hermione to enact one of her fantasies—just a bit further. There’s fluff. There’s smut. There’s art appreciation!

How to Catch a Snitch by DarkCloud190, FanFixation (SequesteredAudio), Nusilverwolf, strandsofsaturn - E, 3 chapters - “Just think of the kids!” Hermione is told when she’s dragged to the ridiculous ‘headless’ auction co-hosted by St. Mungo’s Children’s Department and the International Quidditch Federation. Up for grabs? A Valentine’s date night with one of the strapping players standing on stage. So, when the Pansy-Ginny-Theo Chaos Trio™ tricks her into bidding for the contestant with an intriguing sprawl of runic tattoos, Hermione resigns herself to an evening surrounded by soppy, lovestruck couples. This’ll be painful – tattoos and broom thighs be damned! Once in a while, though, you get something much more valuable than you bid for, and you learn that, just maybe, love really is in the air. ✨🧹🪽

Draco Malfoy and the Atrociously Mismanaged Valentine by Eclectic_fantasy, saintmlfy, Tippilo, Wrathful_Wrackspurt - E, WIP - When a singing goblin in a frilly pink dress delivered a Valentine to Draco Malfoy's office, Draco was convinced Hermione Granger had finally noticed his existence beyond their verbal sparring matches. His response? A perfectly reasonable campaign of gift-giving. What could possibly go wrong? **updating every other day (including podfic)

The Truth Will Set You Pink by baitswitch, Bana_Bhuidseach, didsomeonesay_dracomalfoy, iggygiraffe - E, 3 chapters - After Pansy schemes up a plan to help the post-war seventh and eighth years have a less lonely Valentine's Day, Draco is caught attempting to tamper with the results of his secret match. All Hermione wants is to teach Draco a lesson. All Draco wants is Hermione.

Time after Time by Dracos_library, Motherofdogs18, RavenclawViking, thistlethread - M, one-shot - Stop the clocks. Stop the clocks or turn around and leave. Don’t give me this moment if you know it can't last. Don't give me this moment if I can't have the next. And the next. And the next. ~ Don't do this. Say more Or say less Or say nothing at all But don't go back on your promises. Again. And again. And again. ~ Stop the clocks. This one is off the books. Tell me now or tell me never. What is it that you really feel? Or: The one where their friends force Draco and Hermione to attend a magical speed dating event on Valentines day.

Abduction Of The Heart by briarandbone, briarandtones, Erin11Ann23, garnetsyrup, KTPhoenix - E, 5 chapters - Valentine’s Day was supposed to be just another uneventful evening for Hermione Granger. Endure a dreadful blind date arranged by well-meaning friends, then retreat home to enjoy a bottle of wine and a book in solitude. But things take a fortuitous turn when Draco Malfoy, missing for nearly a decade, swoops in at the most opportune moment and abducts her. It turns out he’s an alien with ties to a mysterious plant she’s been studying for two years, AND she’s his fated mate! What began as a simple escape from routine has spiraled into something truly out of this world—something even she never saw coming.

Not so anonymous by elliemess, TeTe91, TiffyTea - T, one-shot - Every year Pansy Parkinson organises a Valentine's rose gift as an opportunity for the wizards to send a sign of appreciation to their female colleagues. This year's event comes with two changes, though: - you can add a note to your rose - the event is completely anonymous The latter change combined with watching his witch going without a rose on her desk over and over again convince Draco to take part. Too bad he and Pansy have a different understanding of 'anonymous' and he's now racing against time to prevent his witch from finding out he is the sender of her rose, and even worse the author of her note. OR Draco Malfoy doesn't read the small print.

Through the Pink Haze by dramionelover1997, Lispodfics, Silver_Snidget, VintageCherry - T, one-shot - In order to save the potions department of the Ministry of Magic, Percy Weasley has challenged Hermione and her office nemesis, Tiamia, to both come up with a new potion to present to the Board of Directors at the Valentine’s Day Gala. With the chance to finally have her own office on the line, she takes the suggestion of her dear friend, Pansy Parkinson, and decides to make an antidote for the love potion-something the Ministry has been struggling to accomplish. What wasn’t in her plans, though, was Draco Malfoy getting dosed with the potion after a run in they had in the Department of Mysteries. Now with a love sick Draco who is whisking her away for a day full of dates, she is more than determined to make the antidote. She’ll just have to ignore the way her heart feels when she’s around him.

Objection: Overruled! by Cailynwrites, Moonluartt, Motherofdogs18, On_a_whimbrel - T, 8 chapters - Hermione is on track to becoming the most accomplished lawyer in the wizarding world—until her senior associate Percy Weasley decides to assign her a co-trainee to improve her teamwork. Now she’s stuck sharing an office with Draco Malfoy, of all people. Seven Valentine's Days. Two idiots. One unlikely partnership.

The (Im)Perfect Intervention by AutumnWeen, maple_unicorn, mistnyx, TrillbySkinner - T, one-shot - Theodore Nott was tired, and he wasn’t even a parent yet. On top of that, he had to deal with his best friend’s constant yapping about the woman he fancied. Fortunately for Theo, the Ministry sponsored “Love Fest Market” provided the perfect opportunity to intervene. Or Draco Malfoy was a pining mess over Hermione Granger, but refused to do anything about it. So, Theo did it for him.

'Till the Last Star Stops Burning by g0lden_g1rl, morgan_magic, sarahsempra, slytherin_scribe - E, one-shot - For Valentine’s Day, Draco and Hermione’s twins are beyond excited to show their parents the special surprises they planned for them. Adorable family fluff ensues, but once the little ones are picked up by their uncles for a sleepover, Draco shows his wife just how much he loves her – passionately.

How to accidentally end up on a Valentine’s date with Draco Malfoy by topazZz1105 - E, one-shot - A few meddlesome friends, a happy hour spiked with Veritaserum, a touch of Gryffindor recklessness, and one ill-advised test of her own limits… And just like that, Hermione found herself bound by an Unbreakable Vow to snog someone before the night was over. A truly spectacular lapse in judgement. She really should’ve known better.

A Chance Encounter by coldbrewcalico - E, one-shot - Hermione's ideal Valentine's Day plans consist of sitting at home and doing nothing. Her dreams of having a quiet night are dashed when her roommates, Pansy and Ginny, drag her out of their flat and to a bar... where Hermione discovers she's been signed up for an evening of speed dating. She buckles in, ready to endure a long string of uneventful conversations when one of her dates ends up being with Draco Malfoy. OR Hermione finds herself on an accidental first date with Draco Malfoy and it turns out she really likes his hands.

Cupid's Cocktail by Dizzle00, MWard01, PaperCraneAudiobooks - E, one-shot - “Shut the fuck up, Theo.” Malfoy said, rolling his eyes, though his cheeks had a slight flush to them. “You’re worse than my mother.” “Well, I did kind of raise you,” Theo retorted, smugly. “Oh please. Which one of us had two loving parents growing up and which didn’t?” “Which one of us is in a long-term, healthy relationship,” Theo countered, pointedly eying Harry’s hand resting on his knee, “and which one lives alone except for coming over here everyday to stare longingly at my roommate’s arse in her new pajama shorts?” Hermione froze. Harry coughed Malfoy glowered. Theo, of course, smirked.

Take it Easy, Granger by katiekrum - T, one-shot - Harry and Ginny, convinced that Hermione and Ron loved each other, decided to help them out a bit. Unfortunately for you, and fortunately for a certain blond, they didn't know that Hermione's heart didn't belong to Weasley.

EnchantMatch by KTPhoenix - not rated, one-shot - Even in the world of witchcraft and wizardry, finding love has found it's way online. Enter EnchantMatch, the newest sensation on the wizarding web, where Hermione Granger seeks a date for the upcoming Valentine's party. What begins as small talk and flirting over text turns steamy and tantalizing behind closed doors when her date turns out to be.... twice as compelling. [Draco x Hermione x Theo]

EnchantMatch by KTPhoenix - E, one-shot - When Hermione struggles with her grades after late nights in the Astronomy Tower, Draco offers his expertise.

Slytherin Party by disrae1 - E, one-shot - Eighth-year Hermione Granger is invited to a Valentine's Day Party by the Slytherins.

Veni, Vidi, Amavi by mangotart_reads, offthemap, Rchella_1401, writetimewrongmuse - M, one-shot - Once, on a Valentine’s night, they wandered the streets of a city that seemed to have conspired to bring them together. The hours slipped through their fingers, but the memory of it has long refused to let go. What happens when Hermione and Draco share a fleeting encounter in Florence on a night that was never meant to be theirs, and yet somehow was? What happens when the night ends, only to linger like the crescent moon, a sliver of light refusing to dull long into dawn? A journey takes place — a night is shared — an enemy turns more.

A Mark Written in Stars by Hyemi_28 - T, one-shot - After the Battle, Draco and Hermione share a secret love during their eighth year at Hogwarts—one that has remained hidden from their friends and peers. But on the night of the Valentine's Day Ball, they decide to reveal their bond to the world. As the night unfolds, their hearts entwine like stars in the sky, and Draco and Hermione embrace their blossoming love, marking each other in ways that will last forever.

Love Me Not by LadyMorphia - E, one-shot - Draco resents his wife, Hermione Granger, for countless reasons. Their marriage is a toxic mix of hatred and something far more complicated. Now, on Valentine's Day, as she carries his twins, his emotions are more conflicted than ever. He hates her, yes, but at the same time, he can't help but be drawn to the sight of her pregnant body.

Magic, Malfoy, and Valentine’s Mischief by Calliope_dreaming - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger’s Valentine’s Day was meant to be simple: tackle work, indulge in a quiet evening, and try not to overanalyse her fast-paced romance with Draco. But throw in unexpected wardrobe upgrades, a magical mishap, and a man with absolutely no sense of restraint, utterly unfiltered and hopelessly fixated on her, things take a wildly unpredictable turn. Between heartfelt truths, unexpected magic, and the kind of intensity that leaves her breathless, Hermione realises that loving Draco is as exhilarating as it is impossible to resist. When Cupid aims, glorious chaos reigns.

Is It Casual Now? by AuraMarley - E, one-shot - Two years of late nights, takeaways, and mind-blowing sex. Two years of Hermione swearing it's the last time—until the next time. But when a blind date on Valentine's Day threatens to break their cycle, Draco decides enough is enough. Is it casual now? (Spoiler: it's not.)

Buon San Valentino, Mrs. Malfoy by virgo_puff - E, one-shot - Draco decides to whisk Hermione away for an Italian Valentine's Day.

Happy Valentine's Day, Granger: A Brief Story of Draco Malfoy and How He Confessed to Hermione Granger With A Teddy… Bear. by penthatspeaks - G, one-shot - Draco just wants to leave a good impression on Hermione during Valentine's Day, but fate has other plans.

A Valentine Baby by readfreak05 - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger never thought that random sex on Valentine's Day would lead to surprising coming in nine months. [Draco x Hermione x Theo]

[nomie-11]

Fight For Me - Part 3

masterlist! | Right Wing - Part 1 | The General - Part 2

synopsis: ellie never had anyone fight for her before, but hearing the way your teammates talk about you, she knows that maybe next time she won’t be alone

pairings: ellie williams x reader (no use of y/n)

The locker room was alive with the familiar buzz of post-practice exhaustion. The sharp scent of sweat and cooling gear filled the air, mingling with the low hum of chatter and the occasional burst of someone’s laughter. Ellie lingered by her locker, fingers absentmindedly unlacing her skates as she listened to the others talk. She was sure what she was waiting for—maybe an excuse to leave, maybe a reason to stay. 

She found her eyes drifting toward you. You were across the room, leaning against your locker, laughing at something Vi had said. Even now, after an absolutely grueling practice, after putting everyone through hell on the ice, you barely looked tired. 

Ellie scowled. How the hell did you do that? 

Dina, sitting on the bench beside her, nudged her shoulder. “You’ve been staring for like, five minutes, dude.” 

Ellie snapped her head toward her. “What? No, I haven’t.” 

Vi, overhearing, smirked. “Yeah, you have.” 

“Fuck off,” Ellie grumbled, yanking her laces free with more force than necessary. 

Caitlyn, ever the observant one, arched a brow. “What’s your deal with Cap, anyway?” 

Ellie hesitated. What was her deal? She hated you—or at least, she wanted to hate you. But the problem was, she didn’t actually know you. Not really. All she knew was what she saw on the ice: a player who was better than she, a captain who commanded absolute loyalty, a strategist who made the game bend to her will. 

So instead of answering the question, Ellie deflected. “What’s her deal?” 

Dina and Vi exchanged a glance. Abby, who had been rolling out her shoulder with a resistance band, snorted. “The General?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I keep hearing that. Why is that her nickname?’

Caitlyn smirked. “Because this is her team. She commands it and she built it.” 

Ellie frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Dina leaned back against the lockers, arms crossed. “Before Cap, the team was good. Like, really good. But good doesn’t win championships. Good doesn’t push you past the point where you want to quit. She made us great.”

Vi nodded. “She doesn’t just play hockey—she sees it. Lives, breathes, and eats it, too. The way she reads the game, the way she moves the puck? It’s like she’s playing five steps ahead of everyone else. When we got here, she made this team into what it is now. She made it better.” 

Ellie frowned, absorbing their words. She thought back to every practice, every game replay she’s watched. It was true—you didn’t just play, you orchestrated. Like a general in a command room, you saw the ice as a battlefield and your team as an army. 

Caitlyn added, “She took this team from a solid contender to a fucking dynasty. Three straight conference championships, frozen four appearances, and if we play our cards right, we’re winning the whole thing this year.” 

Ellie raised a brow. “And you guys just… let her take charge like that?”

Vi laughed. “Let her? You don’t let Cap do anything. She just does it.” 

Dina grinned. “Day one, freshman year, it was me, her, and Vi. She showed up to practice and ran everyone into the ground. Our seniors thought they were gonna humble her. They didn’t.” 

Vi chuckled at the memory. “Yeah, I remember thinking, ‘no fucking way this rookie is that good.’ And then she smoked all of us in suicides, outworked everyone in frills, and by the end of the first week, we all knew. She would lead. Be something different.” 

Ellie’s stomach twisted. She had spent the last few weeks resenting you, trying to fight against the way you led this team, when really—you were the team. 

Dina glanced at Ellie, as if reading her thoughts. “Look, I get that you and Cap don’t exactly vibe, but if you actually listened to her, you’d realize she’s trying to make you better, too.” 

Ellie scoffed. “I don’t need her help.” 

Abby smirked. “That’s cute.”

Ellie glared. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Vi leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “It means you’re playing checkers while she’s playing chess. She’s already figured out where you fit into this team. You just have to listen.” 

Ellie clenched her jaw, looking down at the skates discarded on the floor. The worst part? They were right, and she knew it. 

“Do any of you guys actually like her? As a friend?” Ellie questioned cautiously. 

Dina blinked at her like she had grown two heads. “Are you serious?” 

Vi let out a sharp laugh. “Ellie, she’s our fucking captain.”

”No shit,” Ellie muttered, rolling her eyes. “I mean besides hockey. Off the ice. Do you guys actually like her?” 

Caitlyn, who had been tying her sneakers, glanced up with a small smirk. “She’s intense as hell. Kind of a bitch, too.” 

“Super goal-oriented,” Abby added, stretching her shoulder with a wince. “Rides all of our asses like it’s her job.” 

Dina grinned. “Technically, it is her job.” 

Ellie felt something ugly twist in her chest. It was what she had been saying—you were too much. Too sharp, too demanding, too relentless. The perfect hockey player, maybe, but not someone anyone would actually—

Vi cut through her thoughts with a scoff. “But, yeah, dumbass. Of course we love her.” 

Ellie frowned. “Even though she’s—”

“A goddamn nightmare?” Caitlyn supplied. 

“A complete hardass?” Abby offered. 

“The most stubborn person alive?” Dina grinned. 

Vi leaned back on the bench, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’s all of that, yeah. But she’s ours.” 

Ellie stared at them. 

Dina’s voice softened, losing its usual teasing edge. “She fights for us, Ellie. Tooth and fucking nail. She’s been the first one in our corner since day one, even when we didn’t ask her to be. She’s had our backs through every shit call, every bad game, every injury.” 

Caitlyn nodded. “When I blew out my knee last season, she stayed at the hospital with me all night. Coach didn’t even ask her to. I woke up, and she was just there.”

Vi smirked. “She cussed out a ref so bad in our freshman year that Coach had to physically drag her off the ice.” 

Abby grinned. “When Dina got concussed, she carried her off the ice herself.”

Ellie blinked. “That’s not legal.” 

Dina snorted, shaking her head. “Yeah, and she bitched the whole time about how heavy I was.” 

Vi smirked. “To be fair, you were dead weight. You kept trying to tell us you were fine while your eyes were rolling back in your head.” 

“I was fine,” Dina said indignantly. 

Abby rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t even count to five.” 

Dina waved a dismissive hand, then leaned back against her locker with a grin. “Honestly, that’s nothing. You wanna know how I really knew Cap had my back.” 

Ellie arched a brow. “Spill.” 

Dina’s grin widened. “I’m actually a teen mom.” 

Ellie choked on her own spit. “What?” 

Vi snickered. “Yup.” 

Dina look way too amused at Ellie’s stunned expression. “Had my kid with Jesse our senior of high school. Just happened to line up with the end of the season and then summer, which, you know, lucky timing and all.” 

Ellie blinked, trying to process. “You—” she gestured vaguely, still thrown, “—have a kid?” 

Dina nodded. “Little dude named JJ. He’s three and a half now.” 

Ellie had absolutely no idea what to do with this information. “And—you still play?”

”Obviously.” Dina said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “But BU almost tried to kick me off the team when they found out the little boy strapped to my soulmate’s chest was my kid mid-sophomore year.” 

Ellie frowned. “They can do that?” 

“They tried to,” Dina’s expression darkened slightly. “Tried to tell me I wouldn’t be able to keep up, that it’d be a distraction, that I needed to focus on my ‘future’—which, like, excuse me, this is my future.” 

Ellie’s stomach twisted. She could imagine it, the way schools and coaches could be—how quickly they’d turn their backs the second they decided you weren’t worth the trouble. “What happened?”

Dina smirked. “Cap happened.” 

Ellie blinked. “What?” 

Vi leaned forward, grinning. “Yeah, that was a fun day.” 

Dina laughed. “I thought she was gonna rip Coach’s head off. She stormed into his office and straight-up told him that if they kicked me off, she’d quit the team.” 

Ellie’s jaw nearly dropped. “She what?”

“Threatened to walk. No hesitation. Said she wouldn’t play for a school that didn’t have its players’ backs.” Dina’s voice was warm, fond. “And here’s the thing—this was right after we won our first conference championship. She was their golden girl, and they knew it. The idea of losing her scared them so much that they backed off.” 

Ellie was quiet for a moment, turning this over in her head. She’d spent weeks seeing you as this untouchable, ice-cold general who lived and breathed hockey, this was something else. 

What would Vermont have been like if she had someone like you to fight for her? Would they have still booted her at the first sign of real trouble?

Vi ran a hand through her short hair. “You think that’s bad? Try this one?” 

Dina smirked. “Smooth topic shift.”

Vi shot her a look but continued. “Middle of our sophomore year, I almost had to drop out.” 

Ellie’s brows furrowed. “What? Why?” 

Vi sighed, her fists clenching. “My little sister needed me. Money was tight—worse than usual. Our dad dropped dead out of nowhere, and if I wanted to keep her fed and taken care of, I had to pick up more hours at work, which meant I didn’t have much time for school, much less hockey.” She exhaled sharply. “So, I told Coach I was quitting.” 

Ellie blinked. “You were just gonna leave?”

Vi shrugged. “Didn’t feel like I had much of a choice at the time. But guess who didn’t let that happen?” 

Ellie didn’t even have to guess. “Captain Perfect stepped in.” 

Vi nodded. “She would not shut up about it. Helped me find grants, financial aid, hell, even some weird-ass booster program for ‘exceptional athletes in difficult circumstances’—which, yeah, that’s a mouthful, but it covered two-thirds of my tuition alone. She even bullied Coach into giving me a small stipend from the team budget.” Vi huffed out a laugh. “And when I was still being stubborn about it, she just showed up to my job one night, tossed an envelope of cash onto the counter, and told me to pay my goddamn bills.”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “Where the hell did she get the money?” 

Vi smirked. “Her own savings. Said she didn’t need it. Said ‘what’s the point of winning if we don’t all cross the finish line together?’” 

Ellie swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way it made her chest tighten, and the overwhelming guilt and jealousy she had for these girls. The Vermont captain was nothing like this—didn’t even fight for her even after they had played together for two years. And here you were paying Vi’s rent after a year and a half on the same team? Threatening your career just to keep Dina on the ice?

Caitlyn sighed. “I guess I’ll go next, then.” 

Ellie turned to her, and Caitlyn leaned against Vi with a small huff. “My mom didn’t want me to keep playing. Thought I wasn’t focused enough on my studies, that hockey was just a distraction.” 

Ellie frowned. “That’s ridiculous. You’re, like, insanely smart.” 

Caitlyn gave a humorless chuckle. “Didn’t matter. You’ve never met an asian mother on a mission. In her mind, I had to be better. She tried to pull me from the team.” 

Ellie clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking. “What happened?” 

Caitlyn smiled slightly. “Our dear captain happened?” 

Dina grinned. “This was epic.” 

Caitlyn laughed. “She learned my mother’s language of numbers and statistics. Launched a full-scale campaign to convince my mother to let me stay. Had the entire team sign petitions. Brought in my academic record and class statistics to prove I wasn’t falling behind. Got Coach to sit down with her and explain how crucial I was to the lineup.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “She wouldn’t leave my poor mother alone.”

Ellie could picture it—your relentless determination, your refusal to let anything stand in the way of keeping your team together. 

“In the end,” Caitlyn said, “my mom gave in. She figured if I had a captain that determined to keep me on the team, I must be worth something.” 

Ellie didn’t know what to say to that. 

And then Abby sighed. “Alright. My turn.” 

Ellie glanced over. Abby had been quiet, listening, but now there was something hesitant in her expression. Ellie could feel the entire atmosphere in the room shift, as if everyone knew something she didn’t. Something bad. 

Abby took a breath. “Last year was rough for me.” 

Ellie didn’t move, didn’t respond, sensing the weight behind Abby’s words. 

“I had… a lot of pressure on me. To perform, to be the best, to live up to the expectations that came with being on her team.” Abby’s jaw tightened. “And I handled it like shit. Stopped eating right. Stopped resting. I thought if I just pushed harder, I’d b fine. But I wasn’t.” 

Ellie felt her chest tighten. “What happened.” 

Abby hesitated, then sighed. “I passed out. In the middle of practice.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped. 

“And Cap…” Abby exhaled, shaking her head. “She caught me. She was so pissed. But not in the way you’d think. She wasn’t mad at me at all—she was just mad at herself, like she was angry that she didn’t see it coming and felt like she should’ve.” 

Ellie swallowed hard. 

“When I was lucid—later that night—it was just me and her, and I totally broke down.” Ellie could see Abby blink back a tear from her eye quicker than it had showed up, immediately resuming her story. “I was so unhappy with myself. Unhappy with my body, with my performance, everything. I kept telling myself that I was fine, that I had it under control.” She huffed a humorless laugh. “And then, she just—looks at me. Really looks at me. And goes, ‘Abby, you need help.’”

Abby swallowed. “I tried to blow her off. But she didn’t let me. She got Coach involved. The team’s physical therapist. Even my dad. She forced me to go see a therapist. And I hated her for it at first.” 

Elli watched as Abby’s jaw clenched, but then her expression shifted, softened. 

“But she saved me.” Abby’s voice was quieter now. “She saved my career. Probably my life. And she never, ever made me feel weak for it. Just kept telling me that she needed me on her team. That we needed me on this team.” 

Silence settled over the room. 

Before Ellie could respond—before she could even process the weight of everything she’d just heard—the locker room door banged open. 

“Alright, dumbasses, listen up.” 

Ellie turned to see you stride in, a bag slung over your shoulder, your expression set in that signature no-nonsense look she was beginning to recognize. Without breaking stride, you reached into the bag and started tossing protein bars, apples, and electrolyte pouches at your teammates with the precision of someone who had done this a hundred times before. 

“You—” you pegged an apple at Dina, who caught it with a grin— “eat. You need more fresh fruits and vegetables in your diet.” 

Dina laughed. “Caught red-handed.” 

“You—” a protein bar smacked Vi in the chest— “drink some fucking water. if I see you cramping up in drills again, I’m making you run suicides.” 

Vi rolled her eyes but tore open the wrapper anyway. “Love you too, Cap.” 

“You—” you shoved an electrolyte pouch into Caitlyn’s hands— “I know you’re gonna be up late studying, so make sure you eat snacks. Also, I know you hate the cherry electrolyte pouch flavor, so I got you the blueberry.” 

Caitlyn gave you a smile, pocketing the packet. “You know me so well.” 

“And you—” you turned to Abby, softer now, pressing an apple into her hand instead of throwing it— “get some rest. No gym tonight.” 

Abby sighed but nodded. “Yeah, yeah.” 

Finally, your gaze landed on Ellie. For a moment, she thought you were going to skip her entirely, but then you tossed something her way. She barely caught it before looking down at her hands—a protein bar and an electrolyte pouch. 

“You looked like shit out there today,” you said bluntly. “Eat, sleep, and be ready to work in the morning.” 

Ellie bristled, instinctively wanting to push back, but then she caught the way the others were looking at you—like this was normal, like this was just how you were. Like this was caring. 

And then, for the first time, she saw the softness beneath the steel. 

This was you looking out for your team. This was you looking out for her. 

Ellie clenched her jaw, tearing open the protein bar just to give herself something to do. 

You nodded in approval before stepping back. “Everyone, get back to the dorms. Early morning practice tomorrow. I want all of you rested.” 

There were groans, but no one argued. They never did. You turned to leave, but just before you walked out the door, Ellie found herself calling after you. 

“Hey, Cap.” 

You paused, glancing over your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah?” 

Ellie hesitated. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, just that she wanted to say something. Finally, she settled on, “you gonna get some rest too?” 

Something flickered in your eyes—surprise, maybe, or something else Ellie couldn’t quite name. Then, slowly, you smirked. 

“Worried about me, Williams?”

Ellie scoffed, stuffing the rest of the protein bar in her mouth just to avoid answering. 

You chuckled, shaking your head as you turned away. “See you at practice.” 

And then you were gone, leaving Ellie staring after you, a strange warmth settling in her chest. Shit. Maybe she didn’t hate you after all. 

——————-

The air in the Vermont locker room had been suffocating that night. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow over the silent team. Ellie sat at her locker, her fingers dripping the edge of the bench, knuckles white. The echoes of the final buzzer still rang in her ears, but it wasn’t the loss that made her sick—it was the fallout. 

No one was looking at her. 

Not her teammates. Not her coach. Not even her captain. 

Ellie swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in her throat. She had given everything she had that night. Played her fucking heart out. And now—now they were throwing her to the wolves. 

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. “That wasn’t fucking fair, and you all know it.” Her voice cracked, raw with frustration, but no one spoke up. 

No one defended her. 

Not after the ref’s bullshit call. Not after the fight broke out. Not after the other team’s defenseman got away with a dirty, knee-on-knee hit on Cat. 

Ellie had seen red. Had thrown off her gloves, grabbed the fucker by the collar, and put them on the ice before they could even blink. It was instinct, fueled by adrenaline and the absolute rage at seeing one of her only friends on the team taken out like that. 

But the refs didn’t care about that. They didn’t care about what had started it—only how it ended. And it ended with Ellie being ejected. 

Coach had gone ballistic. Not at the other team. Not at the refs. 

At her. 

By the time the team had shuffled into the locker room, defeated and exhausted, Coach had already made up his mind. 

“You’re done.” His voice had been cold. Detached. 

Ellie’s head snapped up. “What?” 

“You’re off the team, Williams.” 

Her stomach lurched. “Coach, I—”

“Save it.” He shook his head. “You’re reckless. A liability.” 

Ellie’s nails bit into her palms so hard she thought she might break the skin. “You’re seriously gonna kick me off over one fucking fight?” 

“One fight?” He scoffed. “This isn’t your first outburst, Williams. You don’t listen. You play with your emotions instead of your head. And tonight, you embarrassed this team.” 

Ellie looked around, desperate, searching for someone—anyone—to back her up. 

But all she saw were averted eyes. 

Cat was in the training room, still getting checked out, but everyone else was here. Her teammates, her captain. the people who were supposed to have her back. And yet, no one spoke. No one fucking said a thing. 

Her captain—Maddie—stood near the front, arms crossed over her chest, face unreadable. 

Ellie’s voice was hoarse when she spoke. “You’re just gonna let this happen?” 

Maddie didn’t look at her. 

Ellie’s stomach twisted. “Maddie.” 

Still, nothing. 

Ellie let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Fucking unreal.” 

Coach didn’t give her another glance. “Pack your stuff. You’re out.” 

And just like that, it was over. 

No fight. No argument. 

They let her go without a second thought. She was nothing to them. 

——

The drive back to the apartment was a blur. The world outside the window was streaked with rain, the streetlights glowing in smears of gold and white. Ellie could barely process it. One moment she had a team, a future, a fucking purpose—now? Now she had nothing. 

Joel was waiting for her when she stepped inside, fresh off a late-night flight in from Jackson. She was drenched from the rain, her bag slung over her shoulder like dead weight. 

He took one look at her face and sighed. “Kid.” 

Ellie dropped her bag and collapsed onto the couch, rubbing a hand down her face. “Don’t.” 

Joel ignored her, stepping closer. “What happened?” 

Ellie didn’t answer at first. Couldn’t. Her throat felt tight, her chest even tighter. 

Joel sat beside her, silent, waiting. He was patient when he was waiting for her to be ready to talk. Always had been. 

Finally, Ellie exhaled, voice hollow. “They kicked me off the team.” 

Joel was quiet for a long moment. Then— “They what?” 

Ellie let out a humorless laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Coach said I was a liability. No one fought for me. Not even Maddie.” 

Joel’s jaw clenched. “That’s bullshit.” 

“Yeah,” Ellie muttered. “Tell that to them.” 

Joel was silent again, but this time, Ellie could feel the anger rolling off of him. He’d always had her back—always fought for her, even when she didn’t deserve it. And now, when she needed someone the most, he was the only one standing in her corner. 

Not her teammates, not her captain, just Joel. 

The thought made her sick. She had fought for that team. Bled for them. And they let her go without a word. 

Joel exhaled sharply. “You’re not done, kiddo.” 

Ellie scoffed. “Uh, pretty sure I am. No team, no scholarship, no—”

Joel cut her off. “You’re not done.” His voice was firm. Certain. “There’s still time to transfer. I’ll make some calls.” 

Ellie shook her head. “No one’s gonna want me.” 

Joel’s eyes darkened. “Boston will.” 

Ellie frowned. “BU?” 

“I know the coach—he owes me for something I did ages ago. They’re always looking for talent. And you, kid, are damn good. You just need someone who gives a shit.”

Ellie hesitated. The thought of starting over again—of going through another season of proving herself, of fighting for a spot she didn’t even know she wanted anymore—was exhausting.

But what other choice did she have?

Joel leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “My Ellie wouldn’t quit over something like this. I know you.”

Ellie clenched her jaw, staring down at her hands. 

She wasn’t sure if she had it in her to fight anymore. But Joel—he had enough fight for the both of them, and she just had to hope that was enough. 

———

Now, sitting in the BU locker room, listening to her new team talk about you—how you fought for them, how you never let them fall without being there to pick them back up—Ellie couldn’t help but wonder…

What if Maddie had fought for her the way you’d fought for Dina or Vi?

What if someone had stood up for her like you did for Caitlyn, had given a shit beyond just what she could do for the team like you had for Abby? 

Would she have still ended up here? 

Would it have still felt like she was completely alone? 

Because even now, surrounded by her new teammates, part of something bigger—she still felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Waiting for them to decide she wasn’t worth it. 

Waiting to be left behind. 

But then—you tossed a protein bar into her lap, your voice breaking through her thoughts. “You looked like shit out there today. Eat, sleep, and be ready to work in the morning.” 

Ellie blinked, looking down at the bar in her hands. When she looked back up, you were watching her, expression unreadable. 

And for the first time in a long time, Ellie felt something unfamiliar settle in her chest. 

Hope. Hope that maybe, this time would be different. Hope that if push came to shove, she wouldn’t be alone on the ice with a chasm between her and her teammates. 

Hope that you would toss a rope bridge over the break and hold her hand as she crossed, and fight for her the way no one else had. 

This is part three of a multipart series!

<- previous part | next part ->

If you enjoyed this series, please make sure to check out my others!

Taglist: @vahnilla , @sevyscoven , @taurtel , @liasxeatt , @aliluvszs , @riiinnniiieeee , @dreamersbelieveinus

[wweprincess]

Deserve It - R.R

Paring⤷ Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader Plot⤷ As the newest member of the Bloodline, the pressure is suffocating. Anxiety grips you before your match—until Roman walks in. Work Count⤷ 878 Tags⤷ Ficlet, Reassurance, tension, (thats about all) Taglist Form Masterlist

Your eyes locks on your reflection in the vanity mirror, tracing the familiar lines of your face, but all you see is tension. Your stomach twists, a knot of nerves tightening with every second that passes. You don’t know why you feel this fucking anxious tonight, maybe it’s the weight of knowing that if you fuck up, Roman will be pissed. Or maybe it’s the uncertainty of what happens if you do everything perfectly. Eight months ago, you swore your loyalty to him, yet here you are, still struggling with the same nerves before most of your matches.

Your fingers curl into tight fists against the vanity’s edge, knuckles whitening as you tip your head back and stare at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. The cool air of the locker room does nothing to soothe the heat simmering beneath your skin. Your wrestling gear is already on, snug against your frame, a reminder that there’s no turning back now.

“C’mon, girl, you got it,” you murmur to yourself, voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

The door swings open, then clicks shut behind whoever just walked in. The sound alone is enough to make you huff in frustration, your head dropping back against the mirror with a dull thud.

“Can’t knock?” you mutter, irritation lacing your voice.

“No need for that, sweetheart,” a deep, familiar voice growls from the doorway.

Your head turns slowly, almost hesitantly, in its direction—and there he is. Roman. His large frame leans against the doorframe for only a second before he starts moving toward you, each step slow, torturous. His presence alone makes the air in the room feel heavier, charged with something that makes you feel small.

“I sent my Wise Man in here,” he says, voice dipping low, almost teasing. “And he tells me you’re still acting nervous.”

You swallow, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m… sorry. I just—I always think I’m gonna fuck up. I don’t mean to—”

He cuts you off by stepping closer, closing the space between you effortlessly.

“Stop doubting yourself, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his tone softer now, lacking the sharp edge you expected. “You do too damn good. Every fucking time.”

The words shouldn’t affect you the way they do, but your stomach flips anyway, warmth blooming in your chest. You didn’t expect this—not from him. You thought he’d be pissed, that he’d yell or maybe even send you home. But instead, he stands here, reassuring you in a way that leaves you breathless.

Before you can even get a word out, his hand is already on your waist, firm, turning you to face the mirror. The touch makes your breath hitch, your legs threatening to give way beneath you.

“Look,” his voice a low, commanding rumble as he brushes your hair over your shoulder, exposing the delicate slope of your neck. His fingers tighten slightly around your waist, a slow, demanding squeeze that sends a shiver rippling down your spine. “You’re gonna go out there and leave with gold wrapped around this pretty waist.”

His hands flex, fingertips pressing into your skin just enough to remind you of his strength, his control. Your gaze locks with his through the mirror, and the power in his eyes makes your heart hammer against your ribs.

Your lips part, but no words come out.

“And when you do,” he continues, voice dipping to a whisper as he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, “I’ll reward you. You deserve it, sweetheart.”

A sharp exhale escapes you, your body betraying just how much his words affect you. You can’t believe he’s talking to you like this—your Tribal Chief—but deep down, you’ve always wanted it.

“Do you understand me?” he asks, his stare never wavering, piercing through the mirror like he’s looking straight into your soul.

You nod weakly, pupils dilating as heat pools in your stomach.

His hand moves up, fingers grazing along your jaw before he cups your chin, forcing your gaze to stay on him. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, slow and teasing, his touch lighting something dangerous inside you.

“Use your words,” he orders, his tone making it clear he won’t accept anything less.

“I understand,” you whisper, barely trusting your own voice.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, something dark and knowing gleaming in his eyes.

“Good.” His hands fall away, leaving behind a lingering warmth. He straightens, his presence still suffocating, still intoxicating. “Now, c’mon, sweetheart. You got some gold to take.”

With that, he turns and strides toward the door, the authority in his walk is striking. You take a moment to steady yourself before following him out, your mind still reeling from everything that just happened.

As soon as you step into the hallway, all eyes are on you. Jimmy, Jey, Paul, and Solo stand there, waiting.

“Damn, girl, ‘bout time yo ass came outta there,” Jey says, clapping his hands dramatically.

Jimmy, arms crossed over his chest, cocks a brow at Roman. “You must’ve yelled at ‘er, Uce.”

Roman merely smirks, that same knowing look he gave you in the mirror still lingering as he glances back at you. The weight of it alone makes your knees weak, again.

“Just a pep talk.”

[grenadehearts]

you're so gorgeous, i can't say anything to your face!

authors note: e.kirishima x f!reader.. (yes the title is referencing a taylor song) m.list here and commissions are open!

You were utterly infatuated with the muscled redhead who had just waltzed into the bar, the purple hue of the strobe lights dancing beautifully across his tan skin.

And when you saw the scars adorning his arms and hands, you knew you were fucked.

As if that wasn’t enough, he just had to stalk his way toward you—long legs, long strides, straight in your direction.

Oh, and you were totally not prepared. Your hands were clammy, your eyeliner was definitely smudged—shit—and he was getting closer. Panicked, you shot up from your seat, drink in hand, and sprinted to the bar, away from your booth.

"Fuck."

The curse left your lips just as your drink sloshed over, spilling all over the man in front of you. And when you looked up—oh, you were sure God himself had turned this into your own personal hell. Because there, standing in the flesh, was the red-haired, muscle-bound man.

A string of muttered "please kill me, please kill me, please kill me" spilled from your lips as he leaned down, cocking his head to the side.

"What was that?"

And when you looked up—thump.

You bumped heads with him, the sound somehow audible over the crowded, loud room.

Yep. You were definitely never leaving your house after this.

Instead of saying sorry—or even acknowledging him—you turned and ran.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you speed-walked away from this stupidly gorgeous man.

But persistent, he was.

He jogged after you, fingers wrapping around your forearm. "Miss!" he called, voice firm but not unkind.

You twisted, trying to slip away, but in your haste, your heel snapped.

And down you went.

You barely registered the pain in your ankle before you hit the floor, your purse spilling open, its contents scattering across the ground.

And—oh, my god—before you could even get your bearings, before the hot, wet tears threatening to spill could even be blinked away, there he was.

All 6 foot of him, crouched in front of you, rough, calloused hands carefully gathering your scattered belongings. His brow furrowed in concentration, and—fuck—he looked gorgeous.

And you? You couldn’t even speak. 

Then, as if the universe wasn’t already cruel enough, he turned to face you, kind yet devastatingly beautiful as he offered you a hand.

And the dummy—the stupid, terrible, awkward dummy—you were, you covered your face.

But, annoyingly perfect as he was, he simply placed his hands over yours, his voice impossibly gentle as he asked, "Is this okay?" before slowly moving your hands away from your face.

And then, the final nail in the coffin:

"You’re so pretty. Don’t hide yourself."

And just like that, you lost it.

Wet, heavy tears spilled down your cheeks, leaving you looking like a raccoon—flushed cheeks, pink nose—and you were sure a snot bubble just escaped as you hiccuped.

His face turned beet red as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Um… uh, shit. I’m sorry. Did I—did I do something? I’m—uh, not really this forward, and uh—" He trailed off, looking at your sniffling, snot-nosed mess of a face before groaning, palming his own face with a dramatic sigh.

"Oh no, I’m such a douchebag," he muttered into his hand. "You’re in such a vulnerable moment, and I just—geez, man, I’m sorry. But you were just so pre—"

Before he could finish, you scooted closer, cradling his rough, calloused hands in your softer ones. His shirt was still damp from the drink you’d spilled on him, but you didn’t care. You gently pulled his hands away from his face and murmured, "Don’t hide yourself, too, cute."

And yeah, maybe you were never this forward. Maybe it was the drinks.

Or maybe… just maybe, it was because he had seen you sprawled on the floor—a pathetic, heaving mess—and still called you pretty.

His eyes widened, the dark rouge of them deepening, as a blush spread across his face. Then, to your utter surprise, he ducked his head and buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a muffled groan.

You giggled.

Then, the voice low, warm his breath brushing against your ear, as he mumbled:

"I’m Ejiro Kirishima."

p.s reblogs are sooo helpful and comments!! <3 and commissioning me would help so much.

[fr3akshow-d4rlin]

A BASEBALL MISHAP

Kim Je-Hyuk x reader

Warnings: reader cries, bruises?, wacked in the face with a baseball 😭😭

Word count:around 2k ish

A/n: the more i thought of this plot it reminded me of a time when i was playing softball and instead of swinging the bat when the ball got thrown it hit me in the eye, and broke my glasses 😐🫡i cried a lot

It was a warm, sunny afternoon—the kind where the sky stretched endlessly above, a brilliant blue with not a cloud in sight. The baseball field was quiet, almost deserted, except for you and Jehyuk. He had begged you to come out here with him after school, claiming he needed someone to "practice his throwing arm" with. But you had a feeling it wasn’t just about baseball. Jehyuk had this energy about him, always looking for new ways to spend time with you, no matter how random or silly it seemed.

"Come on, just one throw," he grinned, tossing you a baseball. His eyes were sparkling with that familiar mischief, the one that made you feel both annoyed and charmed at the same time.

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing the ball warily. "You know I’m terrible at this, right?"

Jehyuk smirked, stretching his arm. "Doesn't matter. I'll teach you. You'll be a pro by the end of this."

You sighed dramatically but couldn't hide your smile. "Fine. But if I throw it like a total disaster, you're not allowed to laugh."

"No promises," he teased, readying himself. "Now, aim and throw it back. And remember, don't aim for my head." He grinned, making a dramatic gesture toward his own head, pretending to shield it like he was about to face a dangerous fastball.

You snorted, shaking your head. "I'll try not to, but no promises on my aim."

You hesitated for a moment, then tossed the ball. To your surprise, it went pretty straight, not a perfect throw, but it was definitely not terrible. Jehyuk caught it easily with one hand, flashing you a smug grin.

"See? Told you," he said with a wink. "Not bad at all."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "Okay, okay, you were right. But you know, I think I deserve a break after that."

Jehyuk's expression immediately shifted to one of exaggerated seriousness. "A break? Oh no, we can't let your skills slip now," he said, launching the ball back toward you. This time, he added a little extra force to it, not really thinking about the power he was putting into the throw.

You barely had time to react. The ball came speeding toward you with an almost unfair amount of force, and before you could even raise your arms to catch it, WHAM—the ball hit you square in the face.

The impact wasn’t just sudden; it was shocking. You stumbled backwards, your hands flying to your face as pain radiated through your nose and cheek. You didn’t even have time to process it before your vision blurred with tears. It hurt, but there was something else in the mix—a strange mix of embarrassment, shock, and a bit of frustration.

"Ow!" you cried out, unable to stop yourself from rubbing the spot where the ball had hit. Your eyes watered, and you bit down on your lip, trying not to make a scene.

But Jehyuk—of course—was already rushing over to you, his face falling into an expression of pure horror.

"Oh my God, Y/N!" His voice was frantic, high-pitched with panic. "I didn’t mean to, I swear. Are you okay?"

You blinked a few times, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. "I’m fine," you muttered, even though the sting from the ball was sharp, and your face was already starting to feel a little swollen.

"No, you’re not!" Jehyuk said, his eyes wide with guilt. "You’re bleeding. We need to get you to the nurse." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and that only made you feel worse. He sounded so genuinely concerned.

"I’m okay," you insisted, trying to laugh it off, but your voice wavered. "I swear, it’s not that bad."

But Jehyuk was already pulling you by the hand, guiding you toward the school building with surprising urgency.

---

When you arrived at the nurse’s office, you felt a little self-conscious. You hated feeling so vulnerable, especially when it was over something so ridiculous. You never thought something as simple as a baseball throw could leave you feeling so shaken.

The nurse, who was always kind, took one look at you and immediately started fussing. She gently probed at your nose, checked your face, and then insisted you sit on one of the beds to rest while she got some ice for your swelling.

Jehyuk sat beside you, practically hovering. His gaze never left you, and he kept glancing at the nurse like he was ready to rush into action if she even slightly overestimated your injuries.

"I’m really sorry," he repeated, for the hundredth time, his voice low. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear, I thought I was just tossing it lightly, but I must’ve put too much force into it—"

"Jehyuk," you interrupted softly, still feeling the slight burn of tears at the back of your eyes. You weren’t sure why, but the situation was getting to you more than it should have. "It’s really okay. It was an accident."

But Jehyuk wasn’t listening. He was still blaming himself, and the more he did, the worse you felt. You hated seeing him like this, so frustrated and upset over something that wasn’t his fault. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel like he’d broken something.

As the nurse walked away for a moment to get more supplies, Jehyuk took your hand in his, squeezing it gently. You looked up at him, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze. His brow was furrowed, and his lips were pressed into a tight line.

"You’re really upset," you said quietly. "It was an accident, Jehyuk. You didn’t mean it."

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his face with his free hand. "I still hurt you. And that’s not okay. I promised I’d protect you." His voice was softer now, vulnerable in a way you rarely heard. "I don’t want to be the reason you’re in pain."

You blinked back the tears, trying to hold it together, but you couldn’t stop the sob that caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that from him—how much you wanted him to care that much. The tears started to slip, but they were quiet, only just enough to betray your emotions. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but it was real.

"Oh, Y/N..." Jehyuk’s voice cracked as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace. His body was warm, and despite everything, you could feel his heartbeat thundering against yours. "I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please, don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I just... I just care about you so much."

You leaned into him, letting him hold you as you fought to calm down. The tears came in little bursts, just enough for the tension to leave your chest, but Jehyuk didn’t let go of you. Instead, he gently cupped your face.

" it’s my fault," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if trying to convince himself. "I should’ve thrown it softer, should’ve been more careful. You shouldn't be sitting here because of me."

You could see the weight of his guilt, the way it was eating at him, and it made your heart ache a little. But before you could reassure him again, Jehyuk leaned forward, and you felt his lips brush against your cheek—just a soft, lingering kiss.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispered against your skin, his lips warm and gentle. It was as if the apology wasn’t enough just with words anymore.

You froze, not expecting him to be so close, but before you could react, he kissed you again—this time on the other cheek, his lips light and soft, pressing in an almost rhythmic pattern. He was kissing you like he was trying to erase the moment, trying to make everything better, to show you just how much he cared.

One kiss after another, he peppered your face with the sweetest apologies, each kiss accompanied by soft murmurs of “Sorry,” “I didn’t mean it,” “I’ll make it right.” His kisses were gentle, almost like he was afraid to hurt you further, his lips brushing tenderly against your skin, following the curve of your jaw, and then back to your forehead.

With each kiss, the tension in your chest seemed to melt a little more, the pain in your face not as sharp anymore. You couldn't help but smile softly, even as the tears from earlier had barely started to dry. Jehyuk was always like this—trying so hard, giving everything, even in the smallest ways.

“I forgive you,” you whispered, your voice a little shaky, but sincere. "You didn’t mean to, and it’s okay."

Jehyuk didn’t stop kissing you. His lips hovered over your cheek again, this time brushing softly over the spot where the baseball had hit you. He kissed it gently, almost reverently, as though he could take the pain away by sheer will.

"I’m sorry," he murmured again, his lips lingering just a moment longer on your cheek, before he pressed another soft kiss to your forehead.

You let out a small laugh through your sniffles, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, even as Jehyuk's kisses continued, tender and never-ending.

“Are you trying to kiss the pain away or something?” you teased, trying to break the quiet tension.

Jehyuk pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of playfulness and sincerity. "Maybe both," he said with a smile that was soft and full of warmth. “I’ll keep doing it until you feel better.”

You shook your head, your heart fluttering in your chest at how sweet he was. “You’re ridiculous.”

But despite your teasing, you couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. "I really do feel better now," you whispered, looking up at him, your heart warm with affection.

Jehyuk beamed at you, his eyes soft, as he leaned in one more time, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

"I’m glad," he whispered, before pulling you into a tight hug, your forehead resting against his chest. "I’m sorry again, Y/N. I’ll always make it up to you."

You closed your eyes, letting his warmth surround you. "Just don't throw any more baseballs at my face," you muttered with a grin.

He laughed softly, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. "Deal."

"I’m still really, really sorry," he murmured again, and it was starting to feel less like an apology and more like a promise. A promise that he would always do his best for you.

After a few minutes, the nurse returned, placing the ice pack on your face with a gentle smile. "You’re going to be okay. It’s just a bruise. Nothing too serious."

But Jehyuk wasn’t finished. He reached into his bag and pulled out your favorite snacks: a chocolate bar, a packet of chips, and that iced tea you loved. He set them down in front of you with a soft, hopeful look.

"I got you all your favorites," he said, his voice shy but sincere. "I know it doesn’t fix anything, but maybe it’ll make you feel a little better."

You chuckled through your sniffles, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "You’re unbelievable," you said, shaking your head. "But thank you."

Jehyuk flashed that guilty but endearing grin, and for the first time since the accident, you could see him starting to relax.

"You’re welcome," he said, leaning back against the wall. "And after you’re better, I swear we’ll get ice cream or something. Whatever you want."

You smiled, finally feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Deal."

As you ate the snacks he’d gotten for you and sat together in the nurse’s office, you realized that even when things went wrong, Jehyuk always knew how to make you feel safe, loved, and cherished. It was just one of the many reasons why you were so glad he was by your side.

A/n: i feel like i made reader too emotional but this is defo how i would react cause im emotional asf 😭😭

[witchingwithscissors]

The Art of Persuasion

The apartment was still, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the windows and the occasional creak of the old wood floors. Upstairs, Nicky lay curled beneath his blankets, his nightlight casting gentle shadows on the walls, lost in dreams of baseball and the secret candy stash he thought his mother didn’t know about. Rio had not only helped him perfect his t-ball swing but had also helped him find the best hiding spot for his sugar rush.

Downstairs, at the dining table, an unopened email loomed between Agatha and Rio like an unspoken argument.

Rio sat back in her chair, arms crossed, a quiet storm brewing in her dark eyes. The lamp overhead illuminated the angles of her face, her steady, contemplative expression—one Agatha had come to know intimately. She was bracing herself, preparing to dig in her heels, to deflect. Agatha, seated across from her, watched her with a quiet patience, one hand curled around the stem of her wine glass, waiting.

“So, let me get this straight,” Agatha finally said, her voice calm but edged with something knowing. “Entrepreneur magazine wants to put you on the cover—not just a feature, but the cover. A full spread. The kind of exposure that startups dream of.” She tilted her head. “And your immediate answer is no?”

Rio exhaled heavily, her fingers drumming against the table. “It’s not that simple.”

Agatha arched a brow. “No?”

Rio sighed, running a hand through her curls. “I don’t want to waste time on some glossy PR stunt when I should be working. The app launches in three months—I need to be focused, not paraded around in a suit, giving soundbites about ‘innovation’ to a bunch of people who care more about buzzwords than actual impact.”

Agatha studied her carefully. “And you don’t think doing this would help with that?”

Rio groaned, tilting her head back. “I knew you were going to do this.”

Agatha smirked. “Do what?”

“Work your lawyer logic on me.”

“Well,” Agatha murmured, setting her glass down and rising from her chair, “I was a litigator. Persuasion is kind of my thing.”

Rio huffed a quiet laugh, but Agatha could see it—her resolve wasn’t as solid as she wanted it to be.

Instead of pressing further from across the table, Agatha walked toward her, rounding the chair until she was in front of her. She placed her hands on the armrests, her body leaning in, not as a challenge but as something warmer—closer. Rio’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, dark and searching.

“This isn’t just about you,” Agatha said, her voice softer now, more certain. “It’s about the little girls who don’t know they can be you yet. The queer Latina kids who have never seen someone like themselves running a tech company, standing at the helm of something groundbreaking.”

Rio’s expression faltered, just slightly.

“I know you don’t want the attention,” Agatha continued, her tone gentle but unwavering. “But this? This isn’t just about attention. It’s about representation. About showing the next generation that the tech world isn’t only for the same men in the same gray suits with the same privilege and connections.”

Agatha leaned in just a little more, letting her fingers graze over Rio’s forearm. “It’s for you.”

Rio swallowed, her jaw tightening like she wanted to argue—but she didn’t.

“And maybe I do want people to notice you,” Agatha admitted, voice dipping lower, a whisper against the space between them. “To see what I see.”

Rio exhaled, eyes flickering between Agatha’s lips and her gaze. “And what do you see?”

Agatha smiled faintly, brushing her fingers along Rio’s jaw. “A woman who built something from nothing. A woman whose mind is the sharpest in the room, who never backs down from a fight—unless it’s a fight not worth having.” Her lips curled slightly. “A woman who’s changing the world, even if she refuses to admit it.”

Rio’s breathing slowed, the weight of Agatha’s words settling between them.

“And,” Agatha added, her voice teasing but undeniably affectionate, “a woman who, let’s be honest, is criminally attractive and should absolutely be on a magazine cover so I can have my own copy to keep at home and admire at my leisure.”

Rio let out a laugh—short, quiet, but real. “Oh my god.”

Agatha hummed, tracing the edge of Rio’s sweater. “What? You think I don’t want a framed photo of my incredibly sexy, insanely successful girlfriend in my office?”

Rio groaned, covering her face with one hand. “You are so impossible.”

“And yet,” Agatha murmured, pressing a kiss just below Rio’s ear, feeling the way she shivered, “you love me for it.”

Rio exhaled, shaking her head, but her fingers curled around Agatha’s waist, anchoring her there. “You really think this matters?”

“I do.” Agatha’s voice was quiet but firm. “Not just for your company, but for every kid who needs to see someone like you succeed.”

Rio was silent for a moment, then she sighed, the tension in her shoulders finally giving way. “Fine. I’ll do the damn cover.”

Agatha grinned. “Smart choice.”

Rio narrowed her eyes, pulling Agatha in just slightly, their lips barely an inch apart. “You owe me for this.”

Agatha smirked, tilting her head. “Oh, I plan to make it worth your while.”

A quiet shuffle from upstairs made them both pause. Agatha turned toward the staircase, listening for any signs of movement.

Rio smirked. “Think he’s dreaming about baseball or about ways to sneak extra dessert?”

Agatha sighed, but it was fond. “Both, probably.”

Rio pressed a final, lingering kiss to Agatha’s temple before pulling back. “Alright, boss lady. You win.”

Agatha brushed her fingers over Rio’s jaw before stepping back. “I always do.”

And as she turned off the dining room light, her fingers lingered against Rio’s, unwilling to break the moment just yet.

She looked at her—the woman who had fought for her, stood by her, loved her in ways she hadn’t known she needed. The woman who had become part of Nicky’s life, her life.

Maybe one day, she’d put a ring on Rio’s finger.

But for now, she’d just savor this—savor her. The way she stayed, the way she believed in her, the way she made the world feel lighter.

Agatha had spent years never needing anyone.

Now, she couldn’t imagine a world without Rio in it.

[actual-corpse]

Me, slowly getting angry *it's hot, I'm thirsty, I'm covered in sweat, and something bonked me on the head*: omfg I'm gonna fucking *remembers the post about not saying kms and putting on a talent show* I'm gonna..... do a backfilp!!

[cyarskj1899]

This is such typical Toronto man behaviour.* I’m glad it’s being exposed. It’s easier to manipulate us if we aren’t clear minded. I can’t wait for all of it to be exposed!

* not all Toronto men, just that gremlin