#and maybe it was something that needed to happen for me to be okay

[muffinlance]

Some spirit manages to get the gaang and zuko a link that connects their minds. They can share thoughts and their past with each other.

Tweaking this to “and they share dreams” because that’s how I started writing it.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, wrapping his sleeping bag around himself, and grabbing a comfort Momo, too. “Whose dream was that?”

No one ‘fesses up. But it was kind of a rude question, and also a little rhetorical, anyway.

They all have nightmares with fire.

Having the Fire Lord himself looming over them, while they were on their knees? Not exactly a stretch.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, “how does Prince Jerkface keep finding us?”

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, “how did he know that seal jerky seasoned just right with honey—not too much, just enough to add a sparkle of sweetness to the depths of savoriness, a perfect balance for the distinguished tongue to relish—was the perfect bait for his Sokka and Sokka-affliated-parties trap?”

“Maybe if you stop dreaming about it, Sokka,” Katara snaps.

...And they all stop.

---

“I’m going to think really really hard about being friends,” Aang says.

“I’m going to think really really hard about that time my boomerang hit him,” says Sokka.

---

Snatching the boomerang out of midair? Impressive.

Ignoring the Avatar to go hit Sokka with it? Repeatedly? Uncalled for.

---

“Sokka. The city is under attack. Right now.”

“Okay,” Sokka says. “But this is a strategic nap, Katara. We need to know what evil things our Evil Other is up to.”

It’s not like the evil fleet part was a surprise, at least. They’ve been dreaming of it for weeks.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, looking down. “So the ship-blowing-up-thing. Not a nightmare?”

“No,” says Zuko, glaring up with his glare-face all glare-ful but his thoughts mostly full of bruises so deep they’re making Sokka’s ribs ache, and also his legs are going numb.

“Going to get out of the turtle-seal tunnel now?” Sokka asks, still standing over the opening. With his boomerang.

“...No,” the Prince of the Fire Nation says, as he clings onto the edge of the hole, his legs still very much in freezing water.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, when they have a Fire Prince all tied up in Blankets of Imprisonment. “So. What actually was your plan here? Do not,” he interrupts, before the teenage-shaped bloodhound-leech can do more than open his mouth, “say ‘capture the Avatar.’”

The prince closes his mouth. Glares. And kind of fuzzes at the edges, in the way all of them do when they’re about to fall asleep.

BOOMERANG, Sokka thinks, and Prince Largely Ineffective As An Enemy jerks back upright. His Momo hat chitters a complaint.

“Since we both know your answer is ‘I had no plan, Sokka, ‘plan’ starts with ‘p’ and there’s no ‘p’ in ‘Avatar’’, we’re going to play a game instead. It’s called ‘sleepy prince free association interrogation time.’”

“...What?”

“Battle plans,” Sokka says. “Attack. Fire Navy fleet. Ship numbers.”

Alas, “Fire Nation intelligence” is not something with which the prince’s brain is overly burdened.

“...Are you insulting me?”

“Are you proving my point?”

Elsewhere, Yue laughs in all their heads. Zuko flinches. The prince has a very marked reaction to the laughter of princesses.

---

“Okay,” says Sokka. “So that just happened.”

Commander Mutton Chops is groaning. Kind of flopping. Much like the bag he tried to fireball. Yue picks it up, and gently wrangles a fish back into water. Sokka is still not clear on what the fish-napping was about.

“It’s the Moon,” Aang says. “Or maybe the Ocean?”

Aang’s thoughts are full of a FACE STEALING EVIL CENTIPEDE MONSTER THAT IS JUST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE THIN VEIL OF REALITY and that is NOT helping Sokka think.

“Okay,” he says again. “So. At least we can all agree on one thing.”

This is a very diplomatic way of saying they all wanted to dropkick Zhao. But some of them wanted to do it more than others.

The prince of the Fire Nation is even paler than normal, and staring across the clearing at his uncle.

“I can explain,” the prince says, while he’s thinking, oh shit treason oh crap uncle wouldn’t hurt me thought that about father too

Sokka wordlessly plucks Momo from the edge of the pond, where he’s been swiping at the spirit-fish, and drops him on the prince’s head.

Everyone needs a comfort Momo, now and again.

---

“A raft, Zuko?” Sokka says. Outloud. Because it makes things louder when you say it and think it. “A raft?”

Aang is bouncing on his toes. “We should go get him.”

The Avatar is grinning. And thinking, really hard and deliberately, as behind them the Water Tribe ship finishes packing, We should capture the Fire Prince.

“Okay,” Sokka says, with a grin of his own.

[sinstear]

happy valentines 🍫💐💌

vi notices the way you’ve been distant for the last couple of days with her, barely talking to her, glancing in her direction when she practically wraps herself around your body when you’re in the kitchen making breakfast, or doesn’t even let her on your phone. you never had a problem with that before, but that’s suddenly changed. she doesn’t even get a smile from you. at first she assumed you had enough, maybe you didn’t love her anymore, found someone new, someone else to be obsessed and utterly in love with. then she tried to recall the last week, had something happened and you were just figuring it out? did she say something that made you upset? if so, why weren’t you talking to her.

she doesn’t have much time to figure out why, not when there’s an abrupt groan and scuffle at the front door then a loud bang that has her sitting up on the couch, blinking repeatedly until she can hear you cursing under your breath. “stupid fuckin’ thing,” or something like that. if she didn’t feel so upset over something that had she no idea about, then she would have laughed, ran to help you, but she didn’t, she just sat there in; clad in one of your hoodies and slumped deeper into the couch. 

pathetically, like a lost puppy, she perks up at the sound of your voice again. “vi, baby, are you awake?” 

“yes,” she mumbled back, more like scoffed but you weren’t paying attention. “m’in here.”

“okay, uh, can you close your eyes for a second, please?”

doing as you asked, vi closes her eyes, takes her hands out of her lap and nervously fumbles with her fingers. the sound of you cursing and grumbling got louder yet closer the longer she sits here and waits for you to do whatever it was that you were doing, and it’s only when you stumbled, almost tripping over your own feet, into the living room, you find her slumped there, chewing at her bottom lip and sniffling. “don’t open them, just give me like 2 minutes, don’t peek, i know what you’re like.” you warned playfully.

she has no idea what you’re doing, but her only thought in her mind right now was that you’re breaking up with her, this is it. you’re going through all of this just to tell her you’re not in love with her anymore, that you’ve found someone else, that she doesn’t make you happy and maybe she could handle that, but not when she loves you so much—

“you can open them now.” you murmured exactly 2 minutes later.

when her eyes flutter open, violet finds you standing in the doorway, looking somewhat nervous, the living room covered with dark and light pink balloons, rose petals scattered over the floor, a huge bouquet of red roses sit on the coffee table, accompanied by a big box of chocolates, ones you know she loves, one of those giant teddy bears, looking at her like it was trying to read all her secrets, and a gift bag on her lap. light pink with a card taped to the side. “happy valentines day!” 

“y…you’re not breaking up with me?” is what comes out her mouth first, blinking. taking in the sight before her. had she gotten all her worries wrong?

the question catches you off guard and you blinked too, then frowned and shook your head quickly. “no! my god, why would i break up with you?” you rushed over to her and sat beside her before taking her hands into yours. “hey, no, don’t cry, why would i break up with you?”

“you’ve been distant, so i thought—”

“it’s very hard to keep surprises from you, you know?” you laughed softly and wiped away the tears that ran down her cheek. “but no, m’not breaking up with you, you’re my world, and i love you, so much.”

“i’ve never had valentines before” vi admits sadly. 

“i know, i wanted your first to be special,” you admitted softly and smiled. “if it’s too much, we don’t have to open them yet, we can just leave them until—”

“no! i just, i haven’t gotten you anything yet so,” vi suddenly becomes quiet and fumbles with the gift tag nervously. “m’sorry—”

“i have you, don’t i? that’s all i ever need. if i have you, i don’t need anything else,” you admitted and kissed her temple. “it’s your first valentines, it’s not about me, it’s about you, and i want you to know how much i love you, and how much you mean to me. even if there is a creepy teddy bear looking at me.”

vi giggles and wipes away her tears, a blush creeping up on her face. “how did you even get that in here?”

“i carried that thing up 7 flights of stairs, it was a struggle, i admit.”

looking up at you, vi smiles shyly and is quick to bury her face in the crook of your neck. “thank you,” she sniffled and gripped your arm tightly. “i love you so much.”

“i love you more, baby,” you smiled and kissed the top of her head. “how about we make breakfast, take a walk, and when we’ll sit down and you can open your gifts? when you’re not as overwhelmed?”

“i’d like that, but that teddy needs to be turned around, as much as i love it, it’s creeping me out”

“agreed. remind me to not bring it into the bedroom tonight.”

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Tie a Cherry

› content ┆ Choi Seungcheol x fem reader ⊹ genre .ᐟ smut and cute ending ✎ word-count ┆ 2k. ⌁ summary ┆Choi Seungcheol comes home late from work, dressed in his suit and tie, to find his girlfriend waiting in pink pajamas. With a playful pull of his tie, she drags him to the sofa, ready to unwind with a sexy Valentine’s Day gift, filled with affection and desire. ⨯ content warning .ᐟ dry humping, making out, cheol is hot.

✧ happy valentine's day - here's my first even nsfw fic as a gift ✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! this is my first even nsfw fic so bear with me.

› minor do not interact, you will be blocked

It’s nearly midnight when you hear the familiar sound of Seungcheol’s key turning in the lock. You’ve been waiting for him all night, watching the clock tick steadily past the hours he usually gets home. Though you know how busy he can get with work, it doesn’t stop the small knot of worry from forming in your stomach. Seungcheol had let you know beforehand that he was going to come home late today but that didn’t stop you from waiting.

Had it been any other day you would have already gone to bed, but, it was Valentine’s Day, and you felt the need to stay up for him tonight. You didn’t mind him not being home for this special day—you knew how important work was for him, and it was something that you were okay with.

He would make it up for you. He always did.

Finally, the door creaked open, and there he was —your tired, overworked boyfriend, standing in the doorway with his suit still on. You can practically feel the weight of the day hanging around him. He looked exhausted, his broad shoulders slumped, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he slipped his shoes off.

You watched him for a moment, taking in the sight of him, knowing just how much he’d been pushing himself lately. You can see the strain on his face, the last thing he needs is to be left alone with his thoughts. You wouldn’t let that happen, not tonight at least.

You approached him before he could get too comfortable, stepping softly toward him while wearing one of his shirts paired with pink shorts that left nothing to the imagination. The kind that made you feel both cozy and confident. You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow playfully, but there was a hint of concern behind your teasing gaze.

"You’re late," you say, a gentle accusation in your voice.

Seungcheol looks at you, his lips curling into a tired but genuine smile. "I know, I’m sorry," he says, his voice low, but you can hear the weariness in it. "It’s been one of those days."

You know exactly what he meant. He said it all the time. But it never stopped you from worrying, especially when he’s gone all day, getting caught up in the never-ending cycle of meetings, deadlines, and calls.

"You’re always saying that," you tease, but it’s softer than it sounds. "You’re always working so hard. Are you ever going to let me take care of you?"

A brief pause follows, and you see the hint of guilt flash across his face. You hate when he feels guilty, even though you know he can’t help it.

"I promise I’ll make it up to you," he says, stepping closer as if trying to reassure you—and maybe himself, too.

And he will make it up to you, one way or another. But before he can say anything else, you act on impulse. You reach for his tie, grabbing hold of it with a sudden surge of energy.

"Hey!" Seungcheol laughs in surprise as you pull him toward the couch. He stumbles slightly, but you guide him down easily, tugging him until he’s sitting down.

“Stop laughing,” you say, smirking. “I’m trying to help you relax.”

You sat on his lap, straddling him as your hands worked on his tie, undoing it with practiced ease. His jacket was already slipping off his shoulders, but you weren’t done yet. You could feel the stiffness in his body, the tension clinging onto him even after the long day. You won’t let him stay like this. Not while you’re here. Not while he was under you.

“Let me take care of you,” you murmured, the words soft but firm. "You deserve a break."

He chuckled, but there was something softer behind his laughter. "You always know what I need," he says, his voice low, a little tired but somehow full of affection.

You look at him as you work, your fingers deftly loosening his shirt, watching the tension melt away from his face as you carefully help him strip off the layers of his workday. There was something soothing about this process, it felt grounding in a way, especially when he leaned into your touch. His warmth was comforting—like a weight you’ve come to rely on, something that was as familiar as your own heartbeat. And him, just him - looked so good. 

You’re so in love with this man.

“You always look so serious in that suit,” you tease again, glancing up at him. "It’s good to see you out of it for once."

Seungcheol smiles, a little tired but appreciative. "I’m serious about work, you know that."

“And I’m serious about making you relax,” you reply, your tone playful but affectionate. You begin to unbutton his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as you move down each button, carefully peeling away the layers of his day. “Just let me do this for you."

He doesn't fight you. Not really. Instead, he lets you, letting out a slow breath as he sinks into the couch, his hands resting high on your thighs. He looks like he’s falling into a peaceful calm, his posture loosening, the weight of the day falling away.

“Are you cold?” he asks suddenly, his voice soft, as he looks down at your pajamas.

You shrug, not really caring.“I’m fine,” you say with a smile. "But you—" You pause, your eyes flickering to his half-unbuttoned shirt and the tiredness still clinging to him.. "You’re not fine. Let me take care of you, okay?"

He smiles again, the fatigue melting from his eyes as he watches you work. He’s always so serious, always the one taking care of everyone else. 

But tonight? 

Tonight, he was yours to take care of. 

And you clearly had something in mind to make him feel better.

You lean down to kiss him. He hums into the kiss, bringing you even closer to him, arms holding onto your waist tightly. He felt himself growing addicted to feeling the comforting warmth of your body. His tongue softly bit at your bottom lip, making you open up, welcoming his tongue to lick into your mouth. Your hands glide up on his chest to find the nape of his hair. He loves when your hands are in his hair, tugging at it, making him growl loudly. The atmosphere gets hotter from the kisses he gives you, you can’t help but let soft whines escape your lips.

Your reactions made Seungcheol smirk while he kissed you, but that wasn’t going to last for long. Instinctively, you roll your hips down onto him, making him groan against you. All you’ve done so far is kiss, but you both got so worked up—and you loved it.

You keep rolling your hips, small whimpers escaping your mouth as you chase any kind of friction you can get. Your hands slid down onto his shoulders, needing more support as you grinded harder against him.

Seungcheol could feel himself getting hard from the way you were grinding on him and from the way you were whimpering in his mouth. He grabs your hips tightly, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. You don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against your thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.

“Don’t stop moving,” he groans out, you feel his mouth on your neck, slowly biting down as he starts giving you hickeys. “Fuck, I love your moans so much, you sound so good for me.”

He pulled back from your neck so he could see how good you looked, only for him. He curses silently when he sees how much of a mess you are; flushed face, parted mouth letting out moans, and your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You could feel his clothed cock twitch under you.

“Your body is so hot Cheol, so warm, so hard.”

You were desperate in your movement and will to make him cum hard, knowing the man under you felt just as good. You felt proud knowing that it was you who was making him feel that way. You felt the need to get yourself off with him, you needed him.

His hands wandered down, grasping at your ass. He was no better than you, letting out low grunts every single time his hips rolled to meet yours. He helped you roll your hips, grinding harshly down on him.

Seungcheol could easily flip you over and fuck you hard on the sofa but he doesn’t. You had this special moment for him in mind, to pleasure him and he was more than content with where you were now. He tilts his head back, a hiss of air escaping from his clenched teeth as his fingers dig into your hips. He can't stop the little laugh that follows the exhale because you're driving him crazy. Your lips attack his throat as your hips descend sinisterly on his.

“Fuck...” he wanted to get all those clothes off but at the same time, the way you were rubbing against him felt too good. He couldn't even think about telling you what he wanted. He felt like he was going to cum like that.

“You're so hard for me Cheol.”

You hear his low laugh against your jaw before Seungcheol bites the flesh there. You were a fucking tease. He revels in the sound of your breath catching as he wiggles against your own arousal. Your trousers were soaking wet from wanting him so badly.

“You're trying to make me come like this”, Seungcheol's hand tangles in the hair on the back of your head, making you moan his name, as he pulls to look into your eyes. He laughs at the smile on your lips at his words and the feel of your hips rolling against his bulge.

“Will you Cheol? Cum with me just by doing this?” Your head fell on top of his shoulder, licking and biting the available skin.

His hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. Watching you restlessly chasing your climax pushes him over the edge.

You enjoy the silence only the sound of you both breathing heavily can be heard, slowly coming down from your high. Seungcheol holds you regardless of how hot you two feel.

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” he murmurs, his voice almost barely above a whisper. "I haven’t been able to relax properly in so long."

Your heart swells, and without saying a word, you shift closer to him, resting your head against his chest. You love the feeling of his strong arms holding you; you would never refuse him. The familiar rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his skin — that was all you needed to know that everything was okay.

"Yeah," you reply softly, your voice barely audible. “We can stay like this as long as you need.”

The world outside falls silent, and all that’s left is the sound of his heartbeat and your own, in your quiet home. You cherished these moments.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers after a long while.

You raise your head to look at him, your fingers gently brushing across his jaw. "You do," you reply simply, your voice full of affection. "You just need to remember how to breathe sometimes."

He smiles, a slow, genuine curve of his lips. "I’ll try to remember. Happy Valentine’s Day my love, I’ll make it up for you."

You know he will make it up eventually. It’s during moments like these—when his arms tighten around you— that you realize nothing else matters. Work, deadlines, all the pressures—those things can wait. What matters now is the peacefulness between you and the way you fit together in this small, quiet space.

For tonight, home isn’t a place. It was just the two of you, tangled together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside forgotten.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form & join my taglist

@ credits┆big thanks to @kyeomofhearts for beta & proof reading the hell outta this fic ☆彡 honestly can't thank you enough, even if i have to bully you into writing more @ credits┆also gonna thank @shinysobi, @tusswrites and even the crazy @hisnowbie2 for helping me out coming up with a title ☆彡

❀ a/n┆ yes, this is real. My first ever NSFW fic is officially out

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella, @shinysobi, @kyeomofhearts

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip" 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[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.

[itslenagain]

"You, there!" the regal voice calls down the hallway.

Shit. I'm toast.

Mother taught me three very important things about visiting Olympus - one, never reveal that I am a child of Zeus. Two, never steal anything from the Temple. And three, most important of all, NEVER allow my existence to be discovered by Hera.

And who but Hera, my unaware-but-still-somehow-wicked stepmother, would happen to be entering the hallway at the same time I attempted to duck into the kitchen for a late night snack.

"Why are you up at this hour?"

My mind races, searching for a way to escape. I'm surrounded by dead ends. I wonder briefly how severe my injuries would be if I attempted to jump out a window. My heart races as incoming footsteps signal my inevitable demise.

Except, when I turn my face to hers, I can tell that Hera has been crying.

She studies me for a moment. "Who are you?"

Shit. SHIT.

"I'm, ah, Eulalia," I lie. "New in town."

She continues to stare me down in suspicion. I'm so fucked. I have to think fast...

"Hera? Why are you up so late?"

She's briefly surprised by the question, but regains her composure quickly. "I was feeling snackish. It looks as though you were also headed to the kitchen." After a pause, she adds, "You may accompany me, if you wish."

I watch her face, and I am perplexed. I should run. I should get myself far away from Hera, as fast as I can. But instead, I find myself nodding gently. Something so achingly familiar to me hides behind her icy gaze.

She glides past me into the kitchen, gauzy green robe trailing softly behind her. I nervously grab a pear from the counter and sit at the small table.

"...is that it?" Hera says, raising an eyebrow. I blush. She sizes me up for a moment, and seems to come to some unspoken conclusion. "If you tell anyone about what I am about to show you, I will personally kill you." I swallow down the rising bile in my throat and let out a far-too-anxious laugh. She opens the refrigerator and reaches for something in the back. "Now, this is a snack worth getting out of bed for." She pulls out a container full of spinach and carrots and places it carefully on the table. She brushes her hands over the lid, and her eyes glow. When she takes off the lid...

"Melopita!" I exclaim. She looks at me sternly. My hands fly up to my mouth.

"Don't make me regret sharing." She cuts a generous slice and places it in front of me. I tear into the slice with a ferocity that rivals a lion hungrily taking down its prey. I hear her laugh. Her eyes are still puffy, but she looks... softer. Lighter, even.

She positions her knife to cut a small slice of the melopita, and this time, I am the one to shoot her a look. "Is that it?" I ask playfully. She moves the knife a little. "Oh, come on. Is that worth getting out of bed for?!" She moves it a little more and looks at me, eyebrow raised. She lets out a huff. She chucks the knife into the sink and grabs a spoon. "YES!" I cheer. She laughs again. The sound warms me to my core. I wonder how often she allows herself to be vulnerable in this way.

We sit for a moment in silence, enjoying the sweet treat. "So, what's your story?" She asks. I gulp. "Married? Kids? Anything?"

"Not married, no kids. As for the rest... Well, uh. I'm still figuring it out, honestly."

"Aren't we all," Hera sighs. She looks at her feet.

Before any sense of self preservation can convince me not to speak, my mouth is forming words. "Hera, are you okay?"

She's taken aback. Her face becomes stone once again. "Of course I am okay. What a stupid thing to ask," she says coldly. I should have stayed quiet. I should walk away now and never speak to her again.

Instead, I speak to her again. "I don't mean to upset you. I just wondered if anyone has ever asked you that before."

Hera says nothing. She silently rises from her seat and crosses to the door frame. She hesitates before crossing the threshold. "I don't need anyone to worry about me." She says firmly.

"Maybe not, but I'm still gonna."

She stiffens. Then, she walks away without another word.

~~~

Later that week, I find myself making a familiar late-night pilgrimage to the kitchen. I listen carefully as I maneuver the halls of the Temple, checking around the corners before turning. She's nowhere in sight. I hope it stays that way.

I walk down the same corridor where I encountered Hera for the first time. The walls are lined with pictures of my father and his brothers. I pause next to one where Zeus and Hera stand together. His authoritative expression dominates the portrait. His arm is wrapped firmly around his wife, his sister. Hera's eyes are cold and empty.

When I see her sat at the table in the kitchen, they're red and wet.

She looks up at me. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. My heart breaks for her.

I cross to the refrigerator and pull out my own secret container. "Chocolate ice cream?" She nods.

We sit together in silence. I watch her shovel spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth. Her long hair hangs limply about her head. I want to hug her and tell her it will all be okay, and I want to run away and hope she forgets all about me. Both are true. I am terrified.

It becomes a ritual. I watch Hera lead beside her husband by day with steely-eyed ruthlessness. An then, in that small kitchen in the middle of the night, I come to sit with her quietly while she cries. She never says a word, and neither do I.

~~~

Before I know what is happening, someone is pulling me into a closet. I nearly lose my balance, but slender arms wrap around me, covering my mouth. The door closes and the lock clicks. For a brief, horrifying moment, I am plunged into complete darkness, and unable to call for help. "Don't scream," a voice hisses into my ear. The lights flip on.

Before me stands a tall woman in an iridescent gown. Iris. Her arms are crossed, eyes narrowed. The hand comes off of my mouth. I turn to see another woman still holding my body back. Iris takes a step closer to me and leans in. "What are your intentions with my mistress?"

"...What?"

"Hera might seem like an easy target to you, but she's your worst nightmare" she hisses. "What are you planning?"

"I don't understand," I choke. "I'm not planning anything."

Iris stares at me for a long time. She puts a hand on my shoulder and leans so closely into my face that I can feel her breath on my cheek. "I know who you are. I know what you are. And if you hurt her, I will tell her everything, and she will end you, Ophelia."

My blood turns cold. I feel my hands growing numb. "I-I don't want to hurt her. I'm not trying to, I swear. She seems like she needs some help."

"I can help her," Iris hisses. Her eyes stay fixed on me. Her lip twists in disgust. Is this... jealousy? I feel the heat return to my cheeks.

"It's not like that!" Her eyes hit me like daggers. "She's my aunt!"

Iris continues to stare me down. Whatever she hopes to find, she doesn't. She lets out a sharp exhale. She motions to the woman behind me to let me go. Iris looks at me again. "She's a hard person to get close to, trust me. I didn't understand." She unlocks the door. "As long as you're just trying to help... well, I'll keep your secret if you keep mine." I nod. "No funny business, okay?"

I smirk. She rolls her eyes at me.

~~~

Tonight, when I enter the empty kitchen, I am surprised to feel a certain sadness about it. How have I gone from being afraid of Hera, to being her silent confidant? I sit down at the table. The empty seat across from mine feels unnatural.

"Hi," a voice says from behind me. I turn to see Hera standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "Can we take a walk?"

The garden outside the Temple is illuminated by a mixture of moonlight and tiny lanterns. "Why do you keep showing up?"

"...For snacks?"

Hera snorts. "If it was just about snacks, you could come earlier or later and avoid me." I look at my feet. "I give you part of me. You've seen me cry. Nobody sees that. Give me something. Please."

I stop walking. Hera turns to face me. I take a deep breath. "Two years ago, I was going to be married. It was something my mother chose for me. His family was wealthy and influential. I had some type love for him, don't get me wrong... but it wasn't the kind of love I want. He loved the fact that he had control over me. He loved me only when I submitted to the things he wanted. I had to be the kind of person he could love in order for him to love me, even if it meant being someone, something, that I absolutely am not." I feel my hands shake. I breathe in, and then out. "He lied to me. He cheated on me. He physically and verbally abused me." I swat at the tears rolling down my cheeks. "Walking away was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I didn't have anyone to help me through it."

I feel arms wrap around me. I lean in to her warmth. The sobs rip through me. My chest heaves. Hera strokes my hair. I realize that she is crying too. I hug her tight.

"...I'm not ready to walk away yet," Hera sobs.

I put my hands on her shoulders and look her in the eyes. "It's okay. Just know that I'm here for you no matter what you decide."

We stand together for a while, arm-in-arm. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

"What's up?"

"Can I call you my niece, Ophelia?"

My heart drops. "You know?"

Hera looks at me, an eyebrow raised. "I was going to kill you." I feel myself growing pale. She just laughs. "I found out the morning after we met, and I wanted to kill you. But I remembered what you said. And then I had this strange feeling that fate brought us together for a reason." She pulls my still-stunned figure into another hug. "Thank you for worrying about me. Maybe with your support, one day, I will be ready."

"As one of Zeus bastard children, you are doomed to be targeted by Hera, however you found a way to get on the queens good side before she found out who your father is. "

[mahyuume]

CAPABLE OF LOVE!

— synopsis. the ways he proofs being capable of showing love!

pairing. various!haikyuu, jjk, bllk, mha x reader | genre. romance, fluff, crack.

reminders. I’m posting after a suuuper long break, hope you guys like this! | mlist

I THINK I NEED I NEED A PICTURE, is something you’ve said countless times to your boyfriend (who will one day be your husband) then proceeding to whip out any kind of device capable of taking a photo. Currently, is happening right now.

“Baby, we need a picture, again!” You gleam at him, the look on his face already dreading the next fifty photos going to be taken; exhausted from taking the last hundred— or maybe more than that photos. But, reluctantly, he agrees. “Fine, but this is the last time,” the boy sighs then flashes his award winning smile. Just in time for- click! that. Now holding the freshly printed Polaroid, he takes a look at your face instead of the physical copy of you both.

Staring at the facial features adorned on you, he sees no flaws whatsoever. He stares at your eyes; shiny but with the hints of clear joy. Lips— he’s kissed them multiple times, but never got over how soft and plush they felt. Always wondered how you do it.

“Are you even listening to me?” You turned your head to him, giving him a small frown. He snaps back into his senses from you cutting his train if thought; now darting back at your eyes, then lips again. “Sorry,” he clears his throat, trying to get rid of all the mushy thoughts in his head. “What were you saying?” Giving a small huff, you re-explain why you both need so many photos. But truth be told, he wasn’t listening one bit. Okay, just a little, but your face is something he could look at for hours. The look of love is real when it comes to him, due to the fact that he always manages to accidentally ignore you; all while adoring you.

As voices drown out, he thinks about adding this new photo to the heart shaped Polaroid collection in his room. Cracks out a stupid smile, then further proves to be undeniably whipped for you.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, NAGI SEISHIRO, RIN ITOSHI, KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, SHOTO TODOROKI, NEITO MONOMA.

‘CAUSE IT’S NEVER ENOUGH! Is what your boyfriend says almost if not every-time he gifts you things. His reasoning is always “just because” and that he truly meant it when he said if he could give you the whole world, he would. And what I just relayed out for you to process, plays out in your daily life. And is, right now.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Repeated sounds of the doorbell chiming in your ear, you smile as you already know who’s behind the door while opening it for your love. But this time like most, it’s not your love facing you. It’s a big teddy bear that’s twice his size. You’re even surprised a thing like that could fit into his car!

“And who is this for?” You question him, a silly one at that. “Some cute girl I met.” He responds but not so clearly since the bear completely hides his figure besides the arms of his holding it up, drowning in the big fluffy stuffy. You roll your eyes at his answer, “Oh? Come in and tell me all about her.” Entertaining him, you take the legs of the bear and help him inside. And oh my, it was pretty heavy. But no surprise your super strong fiancé could lift it without a sweat.

“I would but…” “But?” “I have more things for the pretty girl inside my car,” he looks over at you with a stupid smile. “If you don’t mind.” He says while walking away back to the front door in a seemingly rush.

Coming back, his hands and arms are full of designer goods, and some even being valentine gifts. Talk about a man who can treat!

“You got me all this?” A gasp leaves your pretty lips as he stares at them, it making him smile in return too. “Yup.” Helping him get the bags, he watches you with a dumb look that makes you wanna slap him for being such a mushy lover. Of course, in a good way!

Opening your early valentine gifts, each one never failed to surprise you and leave you even more grateful for the man watching and recording your reactions. He points to the Nekta bag next to you. In the video, you’re surrounded by countless luxury brands but he decides to point out a specific one.

“Open that one baby.” He smirks behind the camera, watching your face twist into one of excitement and shying away from the camera. “Why? What’s in here?” You say as your paid for nails on hands reach for the Nekta bag. Opening it, there’s many boxes to choose from. You’re not sure which he meant. “Which one?” He points to a small one, the tiniest out of the bunch.

Unraveling the box and seeing the message, cluelessly, you didn’t notice how your boyfriend set down the phone and got down on one knee.

‘Look in front of you dummy.’ You read aloud then looked up. And there he was, holding the missing ring from the box, proposing to you with it.

“Will you marry me?”

HAJIME IWAIZUMI, SATORU GOJO, SAE ITOSHI, REO MIKAGE, KATSUKI BAKUGOU.

TO SEE YOU SMILING IN MY MIND is a memory you often hear being told over and over again by your boyfriend. His dreams of you both are beyond romantic or very dramatic, there’s really no in between.

By far the most exaggerated thing he’d ever say is something about how you two turned into fishes and lived a happy life together swimming around the ocean, avoiding sharks and fishermen. But this time, it’s quite different.

Ding! Ding! Your phone goes off at 7:35pm, right as you’re getting ready for bed or doing whatever it is. Checking what notified you, a smile lit across your face as you read your boyfriend’s display name.

Weird random: Babe

Weird random: I had another dream call me rn it’s so important

Giggling and mentally calling him a weirdo, you read the messages in-app then click the Video Call option.

“Oh my gosh baby, you won’t believe what I dreamt of.” Is what you hear your boyfriend say from the audio of your phone that’s now prompt up on a water glass as a substitute for a stand. “What’d you predict this time?” You cheekily asked him as he closes the space between his device and face; now a super close up of him is in your screen.

You’re not complaining though. He’s in one of those hoodies you promised yourself to ‘borrow’ one of these days and has messy bed hair, which tells you he just woke up from a nap.

“Okay so like, it’s me and you right,” he settles his phone down somewhere around his house, now making hand motions like a story teller. “Mhm.” “We’re having this cute date and stuff right.” “And?” “And then like, you look so beautiful. Like so, like, just so beautiful that flowers bloom when you walk near them type of beautiful!”

Laughing at his silly compliment, it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks turn a pink hue. “You’re so corny I swear…” it’s his turn to laugh at your comment, “Come on girl, don’t tease me like that.” His voice suddenly turns into one more of a softer beat, “hurts my feelings.” He says as he puts a hand on his heart, seemingly clutching it. Rolling your eyes at your favorite boy, he continues on with his story- dream. His dream.

“Then boom, some random dude comes up to you and goes like ‘hey you’re pretty’ and I’m like ‘dude back off’ and then we get into a fight in order to see who wins your love.” At this point he was just background music as you did your night routine. “Babe, are you even listening?” Or maybe not.

“Of course I am.” You look at him from the side of your eye, noticing how he’s now closer than earlier. “Doesn’t seem like it.” From the looks of it, it seems like you’re plain out ignoring him. But you’e not, really! “Promise I am.” Adjusting the camera to face you fully now, he focuses on you rather than talking about his hefty dream storyline.

“What if I just married you, like, tomorrow?”

What a nice question he asked, and your answer is…

“I don’t know?” You stop doing whatever you’re doing and look at him. “Why’re you asking?” “No reason.” Liar. “Stop lying!” His hands go up in protest, “I’m not!” He looks away for a bit then returns to stare at you. “Just… just had a dream about it.” And it clicks.

“So that’s what you were trying to tell me?” And like that, it’s as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “Ah, I guess so…” he muttered, hand on his nape as he realizes he’s not the best at lying when it comes to you. “I mean, come on!” He finally breaks, “you looked so good in the wedding dress and we…” his voice trails off the second you were getting invested.

“We?” You omit him to continue, but it comes out hurriedly. “We had a big, happy family. Like seriously happy.” He admits with a smile, clearly smitten about you. This makes you innerly gush about him.

“Yeah?” “Yeah. We did.” He sighs, “If only it were true.” He fake pouts, an ugly thing he does that makes you laugh horribly. “I mean, it can be.” You nonchalantly said, as if you weren’t wishing for the same thing. His eyes light up from your sentence, lips curling into a smile. “You can’t take that back!” You laugh at his antics, “as if I would ever.”

SHOYO HINATA, TOORU OIKAWA, YUUJI ITADORI, MEGURU BACHIRA, YOICHI ISAGI, KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS).

​৻ꪆ. Happy valentines everyone! I hope you like this one. (It’s been planned ever since December.) there were supposed to be two more lines added but I seriously ran out of time and didn’T know who else to write for… so, take this??

[hyuniemyunie]

Valentine's Day ⋆˚☆˖°

batfam x gn reader, what they do on valentines day

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): yes i know it's not valentines day anymore leave me alone😞

bruce wayne x gn!reader – established relationship, private romance. dick grayson x gn!reader – fluff and cuddles. jason todd x gn!reader – mutual pining, banter, secretly soft bbg jason. tim drake x gn!reader – overworked tim, sleepy cuddles. cassandra cain x gn!reader – quiet love, soft romance, slow dancing at midnight. duke thomas x gn!reader – playful, cozy, best friends to lovers ahh. damian wayne x gn!reader – first crush, flustered damian, he tries so hard plssss.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

A Billionaire, A Vigilante, and a Valentine Walk into a Batcave

Bruce Wayne had never been one for grand romantic gestures.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you—if anything, he loved you too much. But after years of loss, of burying himself in duty, love was something he struggled to express. So, when Valentine’s Day rolled around, you didn’t expect much. Maybe a quiet dinner, maybe nothing at all.

What you didn’t expect was to walk into the Batcave and find Bruce sitting at the massive computer, looking incredibly out of place with a single red rose resting on the console beside him.

You blinked. “Uh. Bruce?”

He turned, and for a moment, he looked like he regretted this whole thing. “I—” He cleared his throat, glancing at the rose like it was something unfamiliar. “This is for you.”

You picked it up, feeling the soft petals beneath your fingers. “Are we having a Beauty and the Beast moment here, or…?”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of amusement. “You deserve more than this.”

You sighed, stepping closer. “Bruce. I don’t need fancy gifts. I just need you.”

Something in his shoulders eased. He reached for your hand, pressing your fingers between his own, rough and calloused. “Then that’s what you’ll have.”

You kissed him, slow and steady, grounding him in the moment. He wasn’t Batman right now. He wasn’t Gotham’s protector. He was just Bruce—yours.

And that was more than enough.

Sweeter Than Any Valentine

Valentine’s Day was Dick’s holiday. The man loved love.

Which was why you weren’t surprised when you woke up to the smell of something burning in the kitchen.

Groaning, you threw off the covers and stumbled toward the chaos. Dick stood at the stove, flipping a heart-shaped pancake that looked more like a crime scene than breakfast. His hair was an absolute mess, his apron was somehow inside out, and when he turned around, he had flour streaked across his cheek.

“Morning, babe!” he greeted, far too cheerful for a man currently destroying your kitchen. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

You rubbed your eyes. “Do I even want to know what happened here?”

Dick glanced at the pancake. “Okay, so, in theory, this was supposed to be romantic.”

“In practice?”

“In practice, I may have set off the smoke alarm… twice.”

You snorted. “Dick, you could’ve just taken me out for breakfast.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been made with love!” He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you, flour-covered hands resting on your waist. “I wanted to do something special for you.”

You softened, leaning into him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now sit tight—I promise at least one of these pancakes will be edible.”

Even if they weren’t, you couldn’t care less. Because Dick was the sweetest thing in the world, burnt pancakes or not.

Shot Through the Heart

Jason Todd didn’t do Valentine’s Day.

Or, at least, that’s what he claimed.

So when you found a box of chocolates and a book you had casually mentioned wanting last month sitting on your desk, you knew exactly who to blame.

You picked up the note taped to it, unfolding the messy, familiar handwriting:

This is stupid. You’re stupid. Enjoy your stupid gift. –J

You laughed. Classic Jason, you were going to strangle him to dea-

That night, when he showed up at your window—because of course he did—you leaned against the frame, holding up the note. “Real smooth, Casanova.”

Jason scowled. “Tch. You weren’t supposed to know it was from me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Jason. It literally has your handwriting.”

“…Dammit.”

You grinned, stepping aside so he could climb in. “So, what, you just broke into my place to deny giving me a Valentine’s gift?”

He flopped onto your couch, crossing his arms. “No. I came to make sure you actually liked it.”

You sat beside him, smirking. “And?”

“…And I guess you do.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I suck at this romance crap, but—”

You cut him off with a kiss. Just a quick one, just enough to make him go utterly still. When you pulled away, his face was bright red.

“…Huh.” He blinked. “That was. Uh.”

You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not as bad at romance as you think, Jay.”

His arm curled around you, squeezing lightly. “Don’t push it.”

But he was smiling.

Valentine’s Day: A Strategic Disaster

Tim Drake had forgotten it was Valentine’s Day.

Which was why, at 11:57 PM, you found him half-asleep at his desk, energy drink in one hand, typing furiously with the other. He didn’t even notice you standing there until you cleared your throat.

“Tim.”

No response.

You stepped closer. “Tim.”

Nothing.

With a sigh, you snatched the energy drink from his hand.

His head snapped up, blinking blearily. “Huh? Wha—?” His eyes focused on you, then the drink in your hand, then the date on his screen.

“Oh, crap.” His face went pale. “Wait. Did I—?”

“Forget Valentine’s Day?” You leaned against his desk, arms crossed. “Yep.”

Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I had a plan. I was gonna—ugh. This is a disaster.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Tim. I don’t care about all that. I care about you.”

He looked at you, exhausted and guilty. “But I wanted to do something nice.”

You grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward the couch. “Here’s something nice: You sleeping for at least six hours.”

“But—”

“Nope.” You pushed him down onto the cushions and flopped beside him. “You can make it up to me later. Right now, you’re getting some damn rest.”

He blinked, then, slowly, slowly, let himself sink against you, his head dropping onto your shoulder.

“…This is nice,” he mumbled, already half-asleep.

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair. “Told you.”

Tim made a small, content noise, and within minutes, he was out cold.

And honestly? This was the best Valentine’s Day gift he could’ve given you.

A Blade Between the Ribs Would Be Less Painful

Damian Wayne did not get nervous.

Except, apparently, when it came to you.

He had researched Valentine’s Day. Studied it like a mission. Planned the perfect confession. And yet, here he was, standing in front of you, holding a gift behind his back, completely frozen.

You blinked at him. “Uh. Damian?”

He cleared his throat, straightening. “I have acquired a gift for you.”

You tilted your head. “Oh?”

With stiff movements, he thrust the box toward you. Inside was a single, perfectly crafted dagger, gleaming under the light.

You stared. “Damian.”

“…Yes?”

“This is a weapon.”

He frowned. “Obviously.”

You fought back a laugh. “Most people give chocolates.”

He scowled. “Chocolates are temporary. This will protect you.”

Your heart melted. He was so earnest, even if his idea of romance was giving you something sharp and deadly.

You stepped closer, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. Damian went rigid.

“I love it,” you whispered. “Thank you, Damian.”

His face was bright red. “Tt.” He turned away, muttering something about how emotions were tedious, but you caught the tiny, satisfied smile on his lips.

Mission: Successful.

Dancing in the Dark

Cass wasn’t one for words, but she didn’t need them to tell you how much she loved you.

So when you found yourself on the rooftop of Wayne Manor on Valentine’s Night, with the city lights glittering below, you knew this was her way of celebrating.

She held out a hand, gaze steady. An invitation.

No music played, but when you took her hand, she led you into a slow, silent dance. The night air was cool, but Cass was warm, her touch firm but careful. Her fingers rested against your back, guiding you in a rhythm only she knew.

You didn’t need a grand speech or a bouquet of roses. This was love, raw and real. The way she held you like you were precious. The way she breathed in sync with you. The way she tilted her head, brushing her forehead against yours in a silent confession.

She didn’t need to say I love you.

You could feel it in the way she held you close.

Golden Hour

Duke had insisted he didn’t care about Valentine’s Day.

Which was why you found it hilarious when he showed up at your door with a box of your favorite snacks and a guilty expression.

“Look, I know I said it was dumb, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I kinda wanted to spend today with you.”

You grinned, stepping aside to let him in. “Duke Thomas, are you actually a romantic at heart?”

“Shut up,” he groaned, flopping onto your couch. “Do you wanna watch movies or what?”

You laughed but sat beside him, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bag he brought. He gasped, deeply betrayed.

“You did not just—”

You shoved another handful into your mouth. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, it’s on.”

Cue a full-blown popcorn war, both of you laughing until your stomachs hurt. Somewhere in the middle of it, Duke slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“You know,” he murmured, quieter now, “I think I just like having an excuse to hang out with you.”

Your heart skipped. “You don’t need an excuse.”

He squeezed your shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I’m never leaving.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[scoupsakakitty]

LOOOOOVE YOUR BLOG i'm literally obsessed with idol!scoups fics and u r soooo good in writing them <333

not sure if you are open to requests but in case that you are, i'd love to see an angsty one with idol!scoups, maybe one where they fight ??? and cheol has to go on tour or work or something so they're not okay for quite a while and make up once he gets home :(((

Silent Apologies | idol!Scoups x Reader | angst, fluff

The argument had started over something small—something stupid, really—but it had escalated far beyond what either of them expected.

"You always do this, Seungcheol!" Y/N's voice wavered with frustration as she stood in the middle of their living room, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "You shut me out, and then you expect me to just be okay with it!"

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, his patience already frayed. "Because I don’t want to fight with you, Y/N! I’m exhausted, I have so much on my plate, and the last thing I need is another argument!"

"So what? You think I don’t get tired too? That I don’t have feelings?" Her voice cracked slightly, but she refused to let it show any weakness. "You act like you're the only one who has problems, but you're never here anymore!"

His jaw clenched. "You knew what you were getting into when we started this! My schedule isn’t something I can just change!"

"I'm not asking you to change it, Seungcheol! I'm asking you to at least talk to me about it instead of pushing me away!"

He exhaled sharply, looking away. "I can't do this right now."

Y/N scoffed, hurt flashing across her face. "Of course you can’t. You always run away the second things get hard."

That was the last straw. His temper snapped. "You think I run away? I do everything I can to keep this together! I'm trying my best, Y/N! But maybe my best isn't enough for you!"

Silence followed his outburst, thick and suffocating. The words hung between them like a wound neither could take back. Y/N swallowed, blinking away the sting in her eyes. "Maybe it’s not."

The finality in her voice made Seungcheol’s stomach drop, but he was too proud—too angry—to reach for her. Instead, he turned on his heel, grabbing his jacket. "I have a flight to catch."

Y/N watched as he walked to the door. "Fine. Go."

The door slammed behind him.

The flight to Indonesia felt longer than it should have. Seungcheol sat in his seat, staring blankly at the screen in front of him, but all he could think about was her. The look in her eyes before he left. The way her voice had cracked. The way he had let his anger win instead of fixing things.

His chest ached with regret.

By the time the concert rolled around, he was running on autopilot. His members noticed. His energy was off. His mind wasn’t there. Even as he stood in front of thousands of fans, singing and dancing like he’d done a hundred times before, his heart wasn’t in it. Because his heart was somewhere else.

With her.

When the final song ended and the cheers filled the venue, Seungcheol barely let the sound settle before he rushed backstage. He ignored the cameras, the staff, the lingering adrenaline. He needed to get home.

Y/N had spent the last two days drowning in her own guilt. She hated the way they had left things, hated the last words they had exchanged.

What if something happened to him while he was away? What if those words were the last thing they ever said to each other?

The thought alone had made her sick to her stomach. So, instead of wallowing in regret, she did what she could to make things right. She cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, made sure everything was perfect. And then, she cooked. She made all of Seungcheol’s favorite dishes, the ones he always craved after long flights. Because she knew that he would come back to her.

And then, as if her heart had called out to him, the front door swung open.

Seungcheol stood there, exhausted and breathless, his suitcase slipping from his fingers and hitting the floor with a dull thud. But Y/N didn’t care about that.

She ran to him.

His arms were around her in seconds, crushing her against his chest as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. "I'm so sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I shouldn't have left like that. I shouldn't have said what I did."

Tears pricked at her eyes as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I was so worried about you. I hated the way we ended things."

"Me too," he admitted, pulling back just enough to cup her face in his hands. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks, his gaze soft but filled with remorse. "I never want to fight like that again."

She nodded, leaning into his touch. "Me neither."

A small smile tugged at her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the kitchen. "Come on, I made your favorite."

Seungcheol's eyes softened even more when he saw the food on the table. "You really made all this?"

She bit her lip, suddenly shy. "I just… I wanted to do something for you."

His heart swelled with affection. "You didn’t have to, but thank you."

They sat down together, the tension of the past few days melting away as they ate. Seungcheol kept reaching for her hand between bites, as if he needed to remind himself that she was still there, that they were okay.

And they were.

Because no matter how bad the fights got, no matter how far apart they were, they always found their way back to each other.

[madebycloud]

No Erase

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: on valentine's day, and you've finally worked up the courage to write a letter to your crush confessing your feelings. unfortunately, your friend accidentally gives the letter to the one person you can't stand. warnings/themes: fluff, one sided enemies, valentines, kissing cam, angry confessions, fast burn ig, mordern au words: 10.9k

You look at the letter in your desk, which you spent at least six hours working on to make sure it's perfect. Not just to make sure the words you're choosing are perfect, though—you want to make sure your handwriting is perfect enough that it doesn't look sloppy.

You grab the letter and read it over one last time… lovey-dovey bullshit, sappy stuff, romantic nonsense, etc.

You cringe at the last words, “Meet me at the bleachers... recess.”

It's so cliché, so stereotypical, and maybe you've had a couple too many cheesy romance movies in the past month. You've probably read a dozen fanfics that start like this.

If it were done by anyone other than yourself, you'd think it was absolutely dumb and corny as hell.

You know you could just message them through snapchat or on insta, or facebook, even just confessing through their email is a good idea… but, no, you just can't do that.

What if you say the wrong thing? what if you just happen to say something extremely cringy in your message? what if they screenshot it and put it on their story for everyone to see? what if they reply with “who is this...?” what if they start ignoring you?

Plus, you love your phone too damn much, and you know you're gonna end up throwing the damn thing because of the absolute panic you're gonna feel when your finger hits that send button.

You probably should have just sent a carrier pigeon or something… at least they could eat that.

Oh wait.

You forgot one thing.

You look around your room, trying to figure out what you left out. Your penmanship is on point, the words are as romantic as they could be, and the grammar is perfect... but what's missing?

The perfume.

The bottle of perfume is on your dresser, hiding behind the jewelry case. You spray it liberally, making sure the paper absorbs the smell of it, before finally folding it up neatly and placing it in the envelope. You seal the envelope with a kiss to the paper and hope it's the ‘special touch’ that it needs.

The smell is nice, just enough to have the paper absorbing it nicely, but not enough to be overwhelming (even if you love the perfume to death). You also want your recipient to be able to read the letter without cringing.

Okay, now it's really done. It's romantic, it smells good, and it's as perfect as you can get it.

Tomorrow's the day, and you finally feel confident. You have everything ready to go, you just have to figure out how to get your friend to deliver it to your crush's locker.

As you get ready for bed, the only thing you can't stop thinking about is how tomorrow will go.

Will they love the letter? will they finally realize the feelings you have for them and confess their own feelings? who knows?

—

“Come on,” you whine, begging Ekko for the fifth time. “Just do me this favor, please?”

Ekko just scoffs and gestures to the table. “I already told you, I have all of these-” he motions to the dozens of letters in front of him, “-that i'm supposed to deliver for girls that are crushing on Caitlyn.” He sighs. “I can't add any more to my to do list.”

“Please?” you beg, waving the envelope at him. “It's really important.”

Ekko groans and slumps forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Why can't you just deliver it yourself?”

“It's kinda.. embarrassing… for me to deliver it myself…” You fidget awkwardly.

“Ugh.” Ekko groans again but gives in. “Fine,” he relents, sitting up straight and grabbing the letter from you.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ekko waves his hand dismissively. He stands up and stretches out, letting out a deep sigh as he does. “Just remind me what locker number it is?” he asks, shoving the letters into his bag.

“Locker number is 13 C,” you reply, watching as Ekko slings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking out of the cafeteria. “It's pretty much right next to Caitlyn's, so you won't be missing it.”

“Got it,” he says, turning around and flashing a grin at you. “See ya later.” He gives you a salute before he disappears. 

Finally.

After months of keeping your feelings quiet, your secret would be revealed. You just have to hope that it doesn't blow up in your face.

—

Ekko walks down the hallway, scanning through the numbers above the lockers until he finds the one he's looking for.

Caitlyn's locker.

He scans the area for any sign of Caitlyn, and luckily for him, the coast is clear.

He pulls out the envelopes from his bag, each one slightly crinkled from being stuffed in there. He counts up the total- ten, no, twelve... wait. Fifteen? that's more than he thought, he could have sworn there were less. He dumps all the letters on top of the locker hole.

He looks down at the remaining letter in his hand. Right, that one isn't for her. He sighs and places the letter next to her locker, just like he was told to do.

He gives the locker one last look but doesn't give it a second thought and starts walking away, whistling as he goes.

But... what Ekko didn't know is that instead of placing it into the locker next to it, he accidentally dumped it into 11C, aka, Vi's locker.

—

You wait at the entrance of your school, impatiently bouncing on your feet. Valentine's day is tomorrow, and you can't wait for your crush to read the letter you poured your heart into.

Then, you spot Ekko, and you're quick to greet him. “Hey!” You throw an arm around his shoulders. “So, did you put it in?”

He nods, gesturing to the school doors. “Yeah, I did.”

You sigh, relieved that the letter is in your crush's locker and will likely be seen by them soon. “Thanks.” You give him a squeeze on the shoulder before letting go of him. “I seriously owe you one for this.”

Ekko just brushes you off. “It's nothing.” He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets as you start walking into the courtyard. “Just doing my good deed of the day.”

“Mhm, hopefully tomorrow goes as planned,” you say, “I just hope they like it…”

—

Tomorrow finally comes, and it's the day you've been patiently waiting for. Valentine's day.

You're in your first class, waiting for your teacher to come in. You're distracted, your mind racing with thoughts about what your crush thinks of the letter.

Then, someone suddenly sits next to you, and you turn to look at-

“What the hell?” you blurt out, looking at Vi as she makes herself comfortable in the chair.

Vi smirks. “Hey,” she greets.

That smirk alone pisses you off.

You still haven't gotten over the fact that because of her, your grades had taken a nosedive. The two of you had been paired together in science class, and she'd somehow managed to blow up the experiment, all because she wasn't paying attention.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you snap, glaring at her.

She simply glances at you, then back at the desk she's sitting on. “What do you think? I'm sitting.”

The audacity? 

“I know that, but why are you sitting next to me?”

“Come on, don't act like you don't know.” She throws in a wink, and your disgust quickly multiplies.

“Excuse me?” you sputter, completely caught off guard by her sudden flirtatious behavior.

“You really gonna act like you don't know?"

“No?”

She scoffs and leans towards you, smirk on her lips. “I mean,” she adds, eyeing you up and down, “I thought you'd be... happy... to see me.”

You're stunned, confused, and quite frankly, grossed out. “Happy to—WHY ON EARTH would I be happy to see you?” you spit out.

She huffs and slumps back into the chair. “Oh wow, thanks for the warm welcome.”

“Well, what did you expect? You haven't exactly been... pleasant to be around.”

She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to reply but stops short as the teacher enters the classroom.

She finally shuts up, and you're left wondering what just happened. Why in the world is someone who is a pain in your butt cheeks suddenly flirting with you? is there something wrong with her? or has she lost her damn mind?

—

It's recess, and you're sitting on the bleachers, waiting for your crush to show up.

Your palms are sweating, you're starting to worry that your armpits are going to start smelling, you're probably going to end up throwing up on someone's shoes.

The letter was probably too much. The words were too romantic. The whole cliché “meet me at the bleachers” thing was just cringe. Who wrote that? oh right... you did.

But even if the outcome isn't what you hope for, at least you've got a good story to tell later or maybe a good reason to drown yourself in ice cream and cheesy rom-com movies.

You look around the bleachers once, twice, three times. You try to avoid glancing at your phone, but the urge to check the time only grows stronger.

It doesn't help that a couple of assholes are sitting a few feet away from you, loudly laughing at some video playing on one of their phones.

Recess is almost over, and your crush is still not here. Where the hell are they?

Maybe they could possibly be in the bathroom, having a nervous breakdown like you were? or maybe they're just taking their sweet time, making sure they're looking perfect?

Or maybe they're not coming at all.

And then you hear footsteps coming your way,

THIS IS IT.

Is your hair okay? yes. Are your teeth brushed? yes, dumbass.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms, trying to calm your racing heart. You turn around, ready to see the face of an angel, the face of a goddamn god-

But instead you see the face of someone you'd rather shove into a brick wall.

Vi.

Why the hell is she... smiling at you?

“Damn, you look good from this angle.” 

WHAT?

Why is this goddamn lesbian here with that stupid smile on her face?

“Why are you here?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm here to see you.” She pulls out an oddly familiar envelope from her pocket and holds it in her hand, and you realize why it's so familiar.

Wait...  that's your letter!

The one you wrote to your crush. The one that's meant to be in their locker, not in her damn hands.

How the hell did it end up with her?

She looks at the envelope, studying the handwriting on it, and then her eyes lock with yours again. “This is yours, right?”

Your hand quickly snatches the envelope from her hand. “How the fuck did you get that?”

Vi quickly snatches the envelope away, holding it out of your reach. “Whoa, woah, wait-”

“Give me that!” You lunge for the envelope, but she sidesteps you.

Vi laughs, holding the envelope away from you. “Isn't this for me?” She opens the envelope and throws it aside, then pulls out the letter and starts reading it aloud. “Dear... what the hell, how do you... whatever. Dear blah, blah, blah, happy valentine's da-”

“-SHUT UP!” You try to snatch the letter again.

“Hey, I'm not done reading it yet! This is my valentine's gift, after all.”

“That letter is meant for someone else!”

“Really? Then why did I find it in my locker?”

“Wait, what? You found it in—you're joking, right?”

She shakes her head, waving the letter in front of you. “Nope, I'm not joking.”

“How did you-”

“Someone put it in my locker.”

“That's impossible! I would never—I mean to you? there's no way that was meant for you.”

Vi squints at the words in the letter, then looks up at you again. “But this is definitely written in your handwriting, right?”

How did it end up in her locker? and how the hell does she even know what your handwriting looks like?

Your eyes dart from the letter in her hands to her face. Yes, it's definitely your handwriting. Yes, it's definitely the same stupid letter you wrote because you're a hopeless romantic.

“Maybe,” you grumble.

“Maybe? so it is yours?”

You avoid her gaze, avoiding her smug look.

She starts reading over the letter again, reading it aloud. “Meet me at the bleachers, how goddamn cliché-”

“STOP READING IT!”

“Damn, I didn't think you could be this corny.”

“Shut up, just-” You try to snatch the letter out of her hand once again, but she pulls her arm away.

“You wrote this much for someone?”

“Why do you care so damn much, anyway? You didn't get a valentine gift or something?” and now you're just being bitchy as well.

“What are you, ten?” she retorts.

“And what are you, an idiot?”

“I'm not an idiot, unlike you.”

“Oh, wow, are we back in sixth grade now?”

She looks down at the letter. “I'm not the one who wrote a heartfelt letter for someone who probably doesn't even like you.”

“And how the hell would you know?”

“Have you even talked to them before?” She lifts her head, her smirk coming back when you didn't answer. “Since whoever the hell you have a crush on doesn't like you-”

“They could still-”

“See, everyone has a valentine. Well, almost everyone, which means your crush probably got one too.”

“Yeah, 'cause you got that letter they were supposed to receive.”

“Maybe I was meant to have it then.”

“You're seriously that sure that the universe wants you to have this?”

“Maybe it's a sign.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Are you just dumb on purpose?”

She grins. “I'm not doing it on purpose, and maybe it's a sign that I should be your valentine, that the universe is trying to tell you something.”

You roll your eyes. “Wow, so confident. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're actually serious.”

“And what if I am serious?” You look at her blankly as she shrugs. She actually thinks she's funny. “I mean, you don't have a valentine, which does kind of suck, and I don't have one, which is by choice, by the way, so I think the universe is clearly telling us something.”

What the actual hell is wrong with her today? she didn't get enough sleep or something, and now she's acting like... like this? this is weird.

She's being weird. 

“What, is the universe now trying to set us up? really? we're gonna get a movie based off this?”

“Hey, no one said this was a movie, maybe it's just a cute little high school romance,” she argues back. “Plus, you put a lot of work into this letter, and I'd hate for it to go to waste.”

“I'm not in the mood to start a cute little high school romance with you, okay?”

She heaves a dramatic sigh. “Look,” she says, holding up a hand to stop you from replying, “it's valentine's day, right? and we both don't have anyone, so it's just... for today, we can, you know... see what happens, and if it doesn't work out, then we can just leave it alone and go back the way we were.”

You blink slowly. “That sounds worse than your whole ‘the universe wants us together’ bullshit.”

“Wow, don't act like the idea of it is so awful. I mean, I'm not that bad, right?”

You're going to disagree with that with every single cell in your body, but you decide not to, instead, you just remain silent.

Vi seems to take your silence as agreement because she gives you this insufferable smirk like she just won something.

She continues. “It makes sense if you think about it. We're both single, you're already in a lovesick mood because of this,” she gestures at the letter, “so if we do, you know... we can get it out of your system, and you won't have to spend the rest of the school year pining over some person who is probably ignoring you anyway.”

Why is she making some sense? no, why is she sounding like... a good option all of a sudden?

“It's just for today,” she reminds you again. “We'll just see where it goes. Who knows, you might actually have some fun with me.”

This feels like you're cheating on your crush for even entertaining this stupid plan. 

“You're basically saying that we're going to spend one day together and then you'll ditch me?” you retort.

“No, that's not what I'm saying,” she corrects you. “I'm saying we're gonna spend one day together, and if it doesn't work out, then we go our separate ways. It's just one day, it can't hurt. It won't be such a big deal.”

“I'm not going to be your one day entertainment.”

“Who said you'd be my entertainment?” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at you. “You and I both know you have no other options. What're you gonna do instead, go home and cry over this person who doesn't even know you exist, or just spend the day wallowing in self pity while the rest of the school is celebrating love and stuff with their actual valentines?”

You wince at her harsh words because...  she's got a point.

You don't have anyone to spend this day with, and the person you'd want to spend it with will probably spend it with someone else... so yeah, you have no plans, and yeah, you're probably going to just go home and wallow in self pity, wishing that today was over already.

What would happen, actually? if you go along with her stupid plan. You could finally have an escape from pining over your stupid crush who probably doesn't even notice you.

“Fine.” You snatch the letter back from her.

“Wait, what? really?” She's actually surprised. No wonder, she's the one who came up with this stupid plan in the first place.

“I am,” you say, “you don't want me to?”

She huffs out a laugh. “No, no, of course not. I just… didn't expect you to actually agree.”

“And why is that?”

“I don't know, I figured you'd still have a little bit of decency left in you.”

What a backhanded compliment. “I have plenty of decency left in me, it's you who I'd question, and besides... it's just for today.” You fold the letter and shove it into your pocket.

Vi hums, not taking that offense to your comment. “Just today,” she repeats. “Then tomorrow, boom, everything goes back to normal.”

You nod. “Back to normal.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Whoa woah woah. Calm down. “Ew, what?”

“I didn't say I will kiss you,” she points out, “I said I could.”

You could say something mean to her words, you could try to change the subject or you could just walk away and forget this conversation ever happened.

But what you actually say is, “What's stopping you then?”

You hate how that sounds so casual. It wasn't meant to come out like that. What the hell?

You're not entirely sure, but something is definitely encouraging you to keep this going. Is it because you find everything she does annoying or that you've been pent-up over your stupid crush lately and you need to get it out of your system?

Vi raises an eyebrow at your words. “You want me to kiss you?” The words drip out of her mouth, like honey on a spoon.

“No,” you reply on instinct, because of course not.

But you can't stop the way your eyes flicker down to look at her lips. You look back at her face, and you know damn well she saw you look down at her lips, but she doesn't say anything about it.

“So now that it's official... you're my valentine, and today, we're going to have the shittiest, most awesome date-” she coughs, “-i mean hangout, that you'll ever have.”

“I doubt it.”

“Hey,” she says, “don't underestimate me, okay? I know how to have a good time,” and then she, god help you, she winks at you.

She looks like she's about to say something more, but she stops when the bell rings.

“Meet me at the parking lot after class?” she asks.

You find yourself nodding. “Yeah, sure.” You look at the field for a second and then look back, just so you can catch her reaction—and it's not at all what you were expecting. She's...  blushing?

It's subtle, more subtle than you'd think, but her cheeks are definitely red, and when she realizes you notice her, she looks away.

She looks embarrassed.

She's embarrassed?

“Anyway, see you there... valentine.” She doesn't look at you. “Try not to miss me too much.”

What? miss her? She sounds like she's trying to joke about it, but something about the way she says it sounds sincere? What the fuck?

She starts to walk away. You're pretty sure you see another smile on her face, and if you didn't like her so much, you'd probably like how she looks when she does.

But you remind yourself, this is Vi.

The same Vi you've known for years, the same Vi who made your grades worse because of a stupid experiment, the same Vi who you'd probably love to throw out the nearest window if you could, and the same Vi you can't stand.

You force yourself to turn away, and you start to walk back to the school building. You try to push the image of her stupid blushing face and her stupid pretty smile out of your brain because you are not... going to make the mistake of being attracted to her.

—

Time passes by more slowly than a snail.

What's the saying...? ‘A watched pot never boils?’ You're pretty sure you could watch paint dry, and it would move at a faster pace.

Why is time passing so slowly today?

You're not sure if it's because you have this... ‘hangout’ to expect at the end of the day or if it's because you keep getting distracted by the thoughts of what is going to happen later.

What you do know is that you end up spacing out way too much more than a person should.

Thankfully, you don't have any homework, but your notes for the day are just absolutely horrible, a mindless mess of scribbles and pointless words. You're definitely going to regret this later.

The last bell mercifully rings just as you're in the middle of doodling a small sketch of Vi's face in the corner of your notes.

You quickly shut your notebook and stuffed everything into your bag.

You need to find your goddamn common sense first, but it seems to have left the room before you could.

The hallway is a goddamn mess.

Kids are running everywhere in the halls, screaming loud as hell, some girl is trying to stuff her locker to the point where it's going to explode, and some kid has got a goddamn boombox and is blasting music from it. There's the hallway drama that everyone loves listening to even though they should be minding their own business.

Seriously, it feels like you're in the middle of a goddamn jungle with the amount of people screaming.

Walking to the parking lot takes longer than it usually would. When you get there, you see a familiar head of pink hair leaning against a red motor, scrolling through something on her phone.

She hasn't noticed you yet, and you find yourself unable to move your feet for a second.

She's just leaning back against the motorcycle, lazily swiping through something on her phone. She's even biting her lower lip slightly, and for some reason, you really don't know why that's such a good look on her.

Okay, what?

You need to stop letting your brain run away with these thoughts.

You are not going to act like a middle school idiot who just got caught looking at her crush or something. You're an intelligent, mature human being. You're definitely not some dumb kid with an embarrassing crush either. Definitely not.

The sunlight makes her glow, and when she looks up from her phone, you feel you're hit with a wave of goddamn sun poisoning because the sunlight hitting her eyes makes them shine.

She looks over and sees you, shoving her phone into her pocket. She gestures you over with a slight jerk of her head.

You force your feet to start cooperating and get your ass over there.

“Glad you came.” 

What kind of response would even be the right one for that? “Me too” would sound too enthusiastic. “Yep” sounds so disinterested, like you'd rather be anywhere else than here, when that might be partially true, but you're not trying to sound like a dick. “Same here” sounds like such a sarcastic tone, and “Of course I'm here, you're the one who forced me into this” would sound too rude.

Instead, you just say nothing, which she notices, of course.

“What, no smart shits today?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you mutter as you turn your attention to the red motor behind her. You notice the scuffed up leather seat and the worn tires.

You then glance around the parking lot, wondering how many times you've seen this before. The motorcyclist who's always late to class, the seniors who smoke too much and are always ditching school, the students with cars who love to show off the brand new car their parents gave them, and the popular girls gossiping about some poor girl who can't afford nice clothes.

The sound of a motorcycle engine starting snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Vi getting onto the motorcycle

She pats the back seat behind her. “You getting on or what?”

“...is it like fast?”

“Is it like fast?"” she mimics in a childish tone before rolling her eyes. “Yeah, it's fast. Get on it and find out.”

“I just asked a question, no need to be a dick.”

“Are you always this bitchy?” she asks, then throws you a helmet. “Put this on.”

You catch the helmet, and you put it on. “Only around you.” You approach the motor and try not to comment on the poor condition and instead climb on behind her.

You have no idea what to do with your legs, so for a few seconds, you just awkwardly sit behind her, trying to position yourself like riding a horse.

“Are you gonna hold on?” Vi calls out.

“Hold on to what?”

“Me, dumbass. Grab my waist.”

“Hell no.”

“It's for your own safety.”

“I'm fine,” you shift around, trying to find a comfortable position.

Vi seems to start losing her patience with you. “If you want to fall off the bike mid ride and splatter onto someone's yard like a squashed bug, be my guest.”

That gets you to hold onto her waist out of pure spite.

“Just don't squeeze my abs too tight. I still need air.”

You scoff. “Who the hell is so narcissistic that they think something as simple as that would affect me?”

She huffs, amused by your snark, and puts on her own helmet. “It's not narcissism. It's just a joke,” she retorts. 

You scoff again, but your hand tightens around her waist reflexively.

She chuckles. “Knew you couldn't resist.”

You pinch her waist. “Just shut up and drive.”

She snorts. “Touchy, aren't we?”

“Yeah, I am,” you reply sarcastically, pinching her waist again.

“Hey!” she exclaims, then sighs. “Okay, fine. I'll stop, just stop it.”

She starts the motor, and the hum of the engine vibrates throughout your body. It's louder being sat on top of the thing compared to how it sounds when you're on the ground. You feel this rumble throughout your chest, and you really want to comment on the poor thing making that much noise.

“Just hold on tight.”

—

“FUCK YEAH! WOOO!” you shout, punching the air with your fist and standing up. It's hockey, but who cares? you're not a fan, not in the slightest, but you're still screaming and cheering, all in a bid to support the team.

Vi is right beside you, shouting as well, while she eats a hot dog and washes it down with soda. “I thought you hated hockey!” she shouts over the crowd's cheers.

You shrug, but it's impossible to respond. You can't hear each other over the sound of the audience's cheers.

A few of the people sitting in the same section as you give you some weird looks, like you suddenly went insane. Well, can you really blame them? it probably looks like you have the sudden urge to yell random things for no reason.

Vi is the only one who doesn't look at you like you're some lunatic, her gaze is focused on the game, all while cheering, and occasionally making comments about the players.

It's different compared to watching it on TV. You're actually there, in person, surrounded by people who share your excitement and are as loud as you or louder.

You're also next to the most annoying person ever, but you don't want to dwell on that.

You drop down, back into your seat, and lean back, stretching your legs out. Your thighs and legs are starting to feel like jelly from all that screaming and standing. “Damn,” you tell her, shaking your legs. “I think I just strained a muscle or something.”

Vi laughs and sits down on her seat. “You know, I've been around here for years now. I probably know some people here.” She glances around the crowd of people, scanning them like she's trying to find someone in particular.

“Oh yeah? who's that in the third row then?”

She follows the direction of your finger and immediately points at a random person. “That's Fred! I once went to elementary with him.”

You have no idea if she's making that up or not. “And what about the guy next to him with the big hat?”

Vi squints at the section you pointed at. “That's George.” She then points at a girl with a black jacket. “That's Sneha,” she pauses, her eyes catching someone in the distance, “and oh-” her hand abruptly changes direction, pointing forward, “-that's Jenny,” she says, waving her hand. “Yo, Jen!”

The old lady turns around and nods her greeting. “Hi sweetheart, how's it going?”

“Doing good, gramps. Just watching the game with this one.” She nudges at you.

The old lady turns to look at you, her face taking the form of a smile. “Ah, a girlfriend, I see.”

Girlfriend? What's she talking about? “Um, no. Just a friend.”

Vi's eyebrows rise as her whole mouth goes ajar. “Friend?” she repeats, “We're friends now?”

“Only for today. Don't get used to the idea.”

The old lady, Melinda, hums. “Is that so? well, enjoy the game, children.”

“Yeah, yeah, we will,” Vi responds to the old lady, and once the lady turns back to watch the game, she leans in close, bumping her shoulder into yours. “That's Jen. She's basically the team's grandma,” Vi explains. “She's been here for years, goes to almost every game.”

You watch the lady continue to watch the game. “So she's like a regular here.”

“Yeah, sometimes she talks about how things were better in ‘her day.’”

“You two seem close though,” you point out.

“She's old and friendly,” she says, scratching her cheek. “Plus, old ladies are always fond of me. I helped her one time with her groceries after one game, and now she thinks I'm a sweetheart.” Vi shrugs, taking another bite of her hotdog. “She's also a nice lady. Always has candy and stuff to give out to everyone.”

“Candy, huh?”

“Yep,” she swallows and smacks her lips to get any food out from her mouth. “She always has peppermint discs, peppermint sticks, and chocolate sticks in her bag.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Why does she have candy anyway?”

Vi takes another bite. “Just something she likes to give out,” she says, between chews, then points at the old lady's lap. “That blue thing she's knitting is actually a hat. She likes to give that out too.”

“Really?”

Vi shrugs again, eating yet another mouthful of her food, still somehow managing to speak at the same time. “Yeah, and don't be fooled by the knitting and the candy. She could beat you in a game of arm wrestling. She's still really buff.”

You nod silently, impressed with this old lady.

When Vi swallows the last bit of her hotdog, she pulls out her phone and points it at you. “I'm gonna take a picture of you... and put it on Tinder.” The second the camera's click sounds off, it takes everything in you to not grab her phone and throw it across the goddamn stadium.

She continues taking pictures, each time saying something different, like, “Look at this one,” or “This one's really good.” She holds up the phone, showing you a picture that's... actually not half bad.  But you know giving her that reaction would just fuel her to do more, so instead, you scoff.

You turn your attention back to the stadium, trying to ignore whatever she's doing beside you. You look around. There are a surprising amount of men, guys, dudes, bros, etc. It's like they outnumber the women.

“There's a lot of dudes in here,” you comment. “Is it a testosterone fest over here, or what?”

Vi looks around as well. “Yep.”

“Do you think any of these guys like girls who love sports?”

Vi snorts. “Nah,” she replies, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “They're more interested in a girl who looks good in a jersey and knows how to bring them a cold beer.”

“So… basically they're only interested if we look cute and we don't open our mouths?”

“Pretty much.”

You groan. “I hate guys like that.”

“Hey, some guys aren't that bad,” she remarks.

“Yeah, and they're the ones in relationships.”

She thinks about it for a moment. “You know… I'm surprised you're not in a relationship.”

You give her a weird look. “Why?”

“Well, you're... y'know… cute.”

Is that a compliment or a fact? you are cute, you're aware of that, but still, it's weird how she said it and... did it look like there was a hint of something else in her tone of voice when she said that?

You force a smile, trying to brush it off. “Thanks.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, a silence you really want to fill with literally anything else than this weird awkwardness.

Just when the awkward silence couldn't possibly get more awkward, a sudden cheer from the crowd interrupts your thoughts. They're all looking up at something on top of the stadium. You furrow your brows before looking up, trying to see what it is they're looking at.

Your eyes land on the huge TV that's attached to the ceiling, and you see the words ‘KISSING CAM’ flashing in bright letters. The camera pans through the crowd, searching for a couple, and it lands on a couple who's sitting not too far from you.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” You look over at Vi and see her cupping her hands over her mouth. She's standing up and shouting at the couple to kiss.

You watch as the girl looks up and sees the camera pointed towards her and her boyfriend. She whispers something to him, and it doesn't take a genius to know what she just said. The guy grins and leans in, giving his girlfriend a sloppy, wet kiss.

The crowd goes crazy, cheering and whistling. The couple pulls away from each other, both of them smiling.

You look at Vi again, who's still standing up. She seems to be enjoying this a lot more than you are, and you can see hearts in her eyes.

Once it seems like the camera has recorded enough footage, it moves to the next couple.

It goes to a couple sitting not too far away from you. The guy looks uncomfortable, but his girlfriend is completely eager to show some public affection. She grabs his chin and kisses him, but it’s only a quick, chaste kiss.

Vi yells out, “Come on, put some effort into it!” and then she sits down, leaning back in the chair.

The camera pans through the crowd again, skipping over several couples until finally landing on a group of guys. They look like they're having the time of their life, yelling at the camera and making rude gestures.

“Ah, boys…” an older man next to you sighs.

The camera captures the guys for a while, they're all laughing and having a good time.

The camera moves away from the group of guys and lands on Vi and a girl sitting right next to her. 

Vi immediately makes some hand gestures, shaking her head and probably saying no. “We're not-” but before she can finish, the camera moves away from them, unsatisfied with this answer, and lands on the other girl sitting next to Vi.

You.

Fuck.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” you hear someone, it sounds like the same person who cheered on the other couples.

You look over at Vi, who's watching you with this stupid smile on her face. You glare at her, she's clearly enjoying this way too much.

You lean over to her, through clenched teeth, you hiss, “This isn't funny.”

She shrugs, still smiling. “I think it is.”

“Well, I don't.” 

“It's only a kiss.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

“Oh come on, it's Valentine's Day!” she replies. “What? are you worried that you'll suck at kissing or something?”

“Excuse me? I am an excellent kisser.”

“Oh yeah?” She quirks an eyebrow. “Then why are you so worried about this? it won't be some gross open mouth kiss, it'll be just a little peck.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Because I don't want to be seen kissing in public, in front of hundreds of people,” you say, lowering your voice, “And I definitely do not want to kiss you.”

“Come on, you don't have to sound so disgusted by the idea of kissing me.”

“Because I am,” you say simply. “I don't want to kiss you anymore than you'd want to kiss me.”

“I never said I didn't want to kiss you.”

That statement takes you by surprise, you had just assumed that she would be grossed out by the thought of kissing you.

The chants start to get louder as more and more people join in. “KISS! KISS! KISS!”

You hear the same guy from before. “Kiss! c'mon! it's just a quick kiss, do it.”

You hear another girl from behind you. “Oh, come on! one little kiss! what's the big deal?”

It's no big deal. 

But at the same time, you're starting to panic. You don't even know how to act right now, are you supposed to play along with this? are you supposed to ignore it? what the hell is happening?!

Your brain is starting to mush into mush because why are so many people chanting? why are they making such a big deal out of this? it's just a kiss, right? right… so why are you so nervous?

You turn your head to see Vi looking at you, her eyes staring into your soul.

“A kiss on the cheek will do,” she says aloud.

You're going to die.

Your heart is going to explode right here, in the middle of the stadium, and then your guts are going to spill out right in front of everybody.

Maybe it's best just to get this over with?

All you have to do is... just a kiss on the cheek. That's it.

You just have to get it over with before this turns into something bigger.

You're not really gonna enjoy this, you'd just get the feeling like you should have brushed your teeth harder in the morning.

Vi's not even attractive in the way that you would want to kiss her cheek, her skin probably sucks from waking up in the mornings, there's no way she remembers to wash her hair at least three times a week. What about her breath? There is no way that she actually brushes her teeth every day. Her breath probably tastes like stale cheetos and mountain dew. There is no way you're gonna get a single bit of pleasure from kissing her cheek.

But you do it anyway.

You press a kiss on her cheek, and it's... warm, and they burn under your lips. The smell of her body spray isn't overwhelming. It's subtle and pleasant. Her hair isn't as greasy as you imagined, and it feels kinda nice when your fingers brush against the side of her face. Her breath doesn't even smell like mountain dew and cheetos, it's actually minty and fresh, like she just ate a pack of gum.

You pull your face away before you let your brain get to you, but you just keep looking at her face because there is this huge grin plastered on her face that makes your heart beat faster. Her cheeks look red, and the tips of her ears are even red too.

The crowd goes nuts. You can barely hear the music or the announcers over the chanting. The kiss had lasted all but a few seconds, but the feeling on your lips linger.

You're both looking at each other like you've just seen each other for the very first time.

She's actually gorgeous.

How is it possible that you only now realized how beautiful she looks?

You look away, but even in your peripheral vision, you can see her looking at you. There's still a stupid grin on her face, and she looks happy.

She's actually happy that you kissed her on the cheek.

—

You and Vi are sitting in the parking lot after the game ends. Vi had bought some $5 pizza, but since the place is packed, you're now sitting in the parking lot with Vi's motorcycle parked behind you.

“I'm gonna be honest,” Vi starts, her face twisted up as she chews on a slice of pizza. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

You hum, nodding along.

Vi takes another bite, a big one, and chews on it, her cheeks stuffed. She swallows and sighs contently. “Man, I should have bought two boxes,” she grumbles, looking down at the one last slice left in the box. Then, she looks up, straight at you, and grins. “You want the last slice?” she offers, holding up the box with the slice still left in it.

You shake your head, and she looks at you with skepticism. “Are you sure you don't want it?”

“I had three slices already, I'm fine.”

Vi looks at the slice of pizza that's still in the box, then at you. She looks like she's considering something, then shrugs and pops the slice into her mouth. “Suit yourself,” she says, the words garbled since her mouth is still full of food.

Something about this moment feels... comfortable. Strangely comfortable.

It's weird. You don't understand why you don't feel threatened or uncomfortable or annoyed or any of those things, even though she's sitting right next to you.

But, oddly enough, you feel safe.

Or maybe that's just because you can't think of anything to say.

Or maybe it's because the silence isn't awkward.

Or maybe it's because you're distracted by the way she seems to enjoy her food.

Because... it's so... weirdly satisfying, watching her chew her food, watching her swallow, watching her use the back of her hand to wipe off the sauce on her chin.

You have no idea why you're paying attention to those little details.

But... you are.

You're not sure when you started paying attention to those.

You're not sure why you feel so comfortable around her right now.

You're not sure of a lot of things, actually.

You're not sure how to feel at the moment, or when your dislike of her had dwindled down to... whatever the hell this is, to whatever this weird, unfamiliar feeling in your chest is.

You're not sure why the corners of your lips keep trying to twitch upwards every time she makes some stupid face.

You're not sure why you're fine sitting in the freezing cold of the parking lot. Not even on the motorcycle, but on the cold ass ground, just sitting behind the motor, back leaned against it.

You're just fine sitting here, and you're just fine knowing that after this, you'll have to go back home and deal with a bunch of bullshit again.

You don't get it.

What changed?

She used to get on your nerves, and you used to get on hers.

She's still the same, isn't she?

And you're still the same.

Everything, suddenly, feels... different.

The air feels different, the atmosphere feels different, the whole world feels different.

The only thing that hasn't changed is her.

Well, no, that’s a lie.

She has changed.

She feels different.

She's not the same girl you can't stand.

And you're not the same girl she can't stand.

Everything is just different.

Maybe the two of you had changed.

But you're not sure how.

You're not even sure when you started noticing it.

But those little details about her, those little behaviors and quirks and habits that you used to find irritating and annoying… they're not bothering you anymore.

She's still a pain in the ass, but she's... well, a tolerable one.

For now.

You don't understand.

Or, rather, you won't allow yourself, at least not yet.

Because you're not sure how to process everything.

And, honestly, you're afraid to even try.

You look at her, still eating on the slice of pizza, and there's a small smear of sauce on the corner of her mouth. “You've got something on your face.”

She tilts her head. “I do? Where?”

Your eyes slowly move down, from her eyes to her nose, and then... her lips. Then, you notice something... freckles. She has freckles. little ones, spread across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and they're… really cute, really, really-

What in ever loving hell are you thinking?

“Hello? you alive over there?”

You snap out of it. You're not about to let her see you be weak just because she happens to have a pretty face. “You had something right… here,” before she can respond, you raise your hand, reaching for her cheek. You wipe the sauce off the corner of her mouth with your thumb. Your thumb accidentally brushes against her lower lip, and something in your chest twitches. 

Vi freezes, her eyes widening as you touch her lips.

Everything feels... slower.

You can hear the sound of her breathing as she exhales, how it hitches when you brush your thumb along her lower lip.

You don't know how, or when, but you find yourself leaning closer to her, your hand still cupped on her cheek.

Her gaze flicks to your lips, her own parting slightly.

...

Holy shit.

You snatch your hand away, realizing what you just did.

Damn it, what the fuck?

You quickly stand up, trying to regain your composure. “I-” Your voice comes out as a croak. You clear your throat, trying to sound normal. “I should... get home. I think it's getting late.”

Vi is still sitting on the ground, and then she shakes her head, as if waking herself up. “...right. Yeah, it is getting late.” She slowly stands up.

“I... umm…” you start awkwardly. “I should-”

“I'll... drive you home,” she interrupts whatever you were about to say. 

Your head snaps up, surprised by the offer. “What? You don't have to-”

“I want to.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, so you shut your mouth. You don't want to prolong this weird, confusing moment anyway.

—

Vi's motorcycle comes to a stop in front of your house. The engine making that clunky, sputtering sound before it finally dies.

“We're here,” you say, trying to break the awkward silence that has been between the two of you since you got on the motorcycle.

You manage to finally slide off the motorcycle, but unfortunately, you're still attached to the helmet. You attempt to unbuckle the chin strap, but the damn thing seems to be glued to your head.

“Ugh, this piece of crap,” you mutter, struggling with it.

“Here, let me-” she cuts in, reaching for the straps.

“No, I got it,” you insist.

“I know you can, but let me.” 

You glare at her, feeling stubborn, but it's not like you're getting anywhere. “Fine.” You let your hands fall to your sides as she reaches for the straps.

She unbuckles it with ease, finally freeing your head from its confines.

You take the helmet off and give it to her, trying to not make eye contact. “Thanks.”

There's a moment of what could be an awkward silence before you both speak at the same time.

“So-”

“I-”

You cough awkwardly. “Go ahead.”

“No, you can speak first-”

“No, no, I insist. Go ahead-”

“I'm fine-”

“Stop being stubborn-”

“Says you-”

“Yeah, I am stubborn-"

“Shut up-”

“Make me-”

What did she say? Was that... an invitation?

“Are you challenging me-”

She snorts. “Pfft, no, that-”

“Then why would you say something like that?”

“I don't know, thought it'd be funny.”

“It wasn't.”

“It was a little funny.”

“No, it wasn't,” you scoff. “Whatever. You were saying?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies, shifting on the motorcycle. “I just wanted to say…” Her gaze shifts from you to the side, then back to you. “I just wanted to... say that I had... fun today. Yeah…” She shrugs. “What about you? what were you sayin'?”

Huh. “I guess it wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“Wow,” she says, deadpan. “So glad you're not completely miserable being around me.”

“Don't get your hopes up too high, it's just for today, remember?” you remind her.

“Yeah, I remember, I'm not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me,” you retort, and a smirk makes its way to your face.

“Watch it,” she warns, the corners of her mouth curving upwards. “I'm only tolerating you today.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you quip back.

The two of you share a look and then start laughing. You're glad she's starting to loosen up a little.

“Alright alright, truce?” She holds out her fist.

You roll your eyes but bump your fist with hers anyway. “Truce.” 

There's another silence, but it doesn't feel... awkward like the last ones.

Then, she speaks up, “Well... I guess I should go.”

“Yeah,” you reply. “I guess you should.”

“See you at school, then?”

“Unfortunately,” you grumble. You take a step back, getting ready to turn around and head to the front door.

“Hey,” she suddenly says.

You glance back at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Can I…” she starts, then hesitates, “...can I ask you something?”

You shrug. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Just... promise me you won't be mad,” she hedges, not quite looking at you directly.

“I'm not promising anything-”

“Just... humor me.”

“Fine. I promise I won't get mad.”

She takes a deep breath. “Do... do you… do you actually hate me?” You're silent for a moment, trying to find the words, but she starts backpedaling. “Ugh, never mind, I shouldn't have asked, forget it, it doesn't matter-”

“No, no-" you interject, “I don't- I don't hate you.”

“You don't?”

“No... I don't hate you.”

“You sure?” she presses, leaning forward on the motorcycle, resting her arms on the handlebars. “Then why are you always so pissy whenever you're around me?”

“I dont-” you start, then stop. “I'm not-” you start again and stop again. “Remember that time in science lab?”

“When we lit the bunsen burner, the table caught on fire, we got three detentions, and everyone thought we were going to be expelled?” she recalls.

“Yes… that time.”

“Seriously? that was months ago.”

“I never said I was the most forgiving person.”

“It was a mistake,” she points out. “I didn't mean to do it, I was just being stupid.”

“It was still your fault. You didn't look at the instructions.”

“I was distracted,” she counters.

“By what, your big brain? cause you definitely weren't paying attention to the experiment instructions.”

She looks away, shifting uncomfortably on her motorcycle. “Actually, I was distracted by something…” her eyes return to yours, “-someone.”

“You're making it sound like it was a person you were crushing on or something.”

She falls silent, looking away again.

Wait.

Hold on.

What?

“Wait—wait a minute,” you demand, walking closer to her.

“What?”

“You were being distracted because you were crushing on someone during the science lab? That was the reason that whole thing happened? You couldn't keep yourself from being distracted because you were crushing on someone?”

“That's not fair to say,” she protests.

“Not fair to say?” you repeat, scoffing. “I literally got three detentions because you were more interested in staring at someone-”

“Fine! Whatever. Maybe I was distracted, maybe I wasn't paying attention-” she admits defensively “-maybe I was looking at-” she cuts herself off again. “Whatever, I'm going home.” She starts her motorcycle, not glancing at you.

“Hey-” you reach out, grabbing her arm. “Wait.”

“What do you want?”

“What was that person's name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Cause, I have a hunch.”

“Care to share this hunch with me?”

“Uh, Caitlyn Kiramman…?”

She snaps her head to you, eyes tracing up and down. “Are you actually this clueless?” she sneers, then drives away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” you shout. “Seriously, what is your problem?” you call out after her. “We were having a decent conversation, why did you-”

Suddenly, she stops, braking abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk with a quick skid. Before you can say, or think, she has her motorcycle facing you once again. She swings her leg over and hops off, walking up to you with a determined look.

“You want to know my problem?” she asks, coming closer. “I'll tell you my problem.” She grabs your shoulders, forcing you to step back. “My problem is that it's been years. Years, and you still have no idea, do you? you're still just as clueless as always.”

“What are you-” you stumble, struggling to keep your footing. Her hands are tight around your shoulders, holding you in place.

“You keep saying I'm the one who causes trouble, I'm the one who always makes your life harder-” she continues. “But you-”

You manage to find your footing and look at her face.

“-don't seem to get that you're just as guilty of making my life miserable.”

“Vi-” you start, but she doesn't let you finish.

“Every time you smile at me, every time you look at me, every time you talk to me.” She shakes you. “Every time you do something stupid, which is all the goddamn time,” she spits. “You don't seem to get that it drives me insane.” She huffs, letting go of you. “I've been right in front of you this whole damn time, and you just didn't even-”

“Didn't what?”

“You had no idea, did you? You don't understand why I’m so damn irritable whenever I'm with you, you don't get why I'm always trying to pick fights, why I can't just be civil, why I can't just be normal around you… you just think I'm a jerk!”

“Well, maybe you are. You did just grab me like a fucking maniac.”

“Oh, shut up,” Vi snaps. “Just shut up for a second.”

You shut up.

She takes a deep breath. “You think I enjoy this?” she asks, and the question sounds genuine enough that you regret the ‘maybe you are’ comment.

She scoffs. “I don't. I wish more than anything that I could just be calm and civil and… and nice around you. But instead, I'm always getting into your face, I'm always picking at you, I'm always trying to piss you off, because it's the only goddamn way I can get your attention.”

“Any time I try to be normal around you,” she continues, “I get... I get ignored. You act like I'm not even there. But the second I get in your face, the second I do something stupid or obnoxious-” she gestures at herself, “-suddenly, you're right there. You're looking right at me, you're talking to me, for once, you're actually paying attention to me-”

“Why do you even care about my attention?!” You don't mean for it to come out as angry as it does, but the pure confusion you feel causes you to raise your voice.

Vi looks away, a frown twisting her lips, before she snaps her gaze back to you. She sounds oddly embarrassed when she speaks. “Maybe because I'm completely, miserably, head over heels in love with you, okay?!”

Wait... what the actual fuck?

Vi looks away, the words leaving her in a rush. “I'm in love with you,” she repeats, quieter and slower. “There's no maybe about it. I've literally been in love with you since middle school.”

“So, instead... instead of just telling me,” you start, “you... you decided to be a jerk to me for the past six years?!”

“I was twelve!” Now her attention is fully on you as she gestures at herself. “I was a dumb kid, I didn't know what to do, but I was desperate for you to notice me. Every time I tried being nice, I got ignored, so... I guess I decided that if you weren't going to notice me in a good way, then I was just gonna piss you off and make you notice me in a bad way.”

“And then, I just kept doing it,” she continues, “because then, you would notice me, and you'd talk to me, and at least you weren't ignoring me. It became a habit. It was the same damn cycle every day. So, you know, I'm sorry if I don't suddenly know how to behave like a normal goddamn human being around you.”

She looks at you defiantly, she's expecting a fight, an argument, and the last thing she expects is for you to... laugh

You laugh. You don't laugh because you think it's funny, you laugh because you're so unbelievably shocked and overwhelmed that the only thing you can do is laugh. You try to cover it up, you try to muffle your laugh by bringing your hand to your mouth, but it's too late, you've already laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” she asks. “I'm being serious, okay? this isn't a joke, it's not some sort of prank. I am dead serious—I just confessed to you, and you start laughing? Jesus, you're actually heartless, you-”

You manage to get your laughter under control, your body still shaking with a few silent chuckles, but you manage to speak in between your breaths. “You have the worst-” and another chuckle, “-worst timing, I swear to god.”

“Oh I'm so sorry that my confession didn't please all of your fucking needs,” Vi says sarcastically, “but I've spent god knows how long in love with you, and I just had to take my shot. And what are you doing? You're laughing at me. Because your pride can't stand-”

“Would you shut up for like two seconds?!” you snap, cutting off her rant in an instant. “I'm not laughing because you confessed to me, okay?!”

“Then why are you laughing, huh? why is this so funny to you? because I don't find it very funny-”

“Because-” you sigh, and you're actually surprised by how... nervous you suddenly feel. “I never expected this, okay? I never expected you to actually... feel that type of way about me, and to top that, you're confessing to me in the stupidest way possible.”

“I didn't plan on confessing to you at all!” she protests. “It just... kind of happened. Plus, you've never been too keen on me.”

“I-” you begin because 'not keen on you' feels like an understatement. You've never liked her, or rather you've never let yourself even consider her as an option because your heart was set on one person only. “I just need some time to... process this.”

Vi scoffs, her face looking annoyed again. “You need time to process this? what's there to process? I just told you how I feel about you.”

“Yeah, well, I need to process that! Because you just dumped a lot of information on me, and right now I'm-” You pause, trying to pick just the right word. “...overwhelmed, okay?”

Vi's features soften, not quite fully, but just enough to show a little bit of sympathy. “Overwhelmed,” she repeats.

“Yeah…” you reply, “I mean... you just confessed to me, and I... I've never-” you gulp. “-I've never really thought of you... that way.”

“Never thought of me, or never let yourself think of me?”

Okay, woah, that's... a very accurate question.

She's right, and it's scary that she just pointed that out.

Maybe in the back of your head, you've wondered things, you've had thoughts, but it was all so brief, you've always been quick to brush them away. It never even crossed your mind that maybe you had been missing out on something.

You're not sure how to reply, and it gives Vi a chance to continue talking.

“You never let yourself think of me like that, huh?” she continues, “That's pretty sad, because I've literally been in love with you for the past six years.”

“Don't guilt trip me,” you snap. “It's not like I asked you to fall in love with me, is it?”

“I'm not guilt tripping you. I'm just trying to get you to understand how I feel. I'm just trying to make you see that I...care about you, okay? I'm not trying to—ugh!” She groans, rubbing a hand over her face. “I'm screwing this up, I'm screwing everything up, because apparently I suck at confessing and you… you mess with my head.”

“I mess with your head?” you repeat. “You're the one who's messing with my head! You're the one who's messing with my emotions, you—you just turned my entire life upside down, and you expect me to respond to it perfectly?!”

“Not perfectly!” she retorts. “You're seriously not getting it, are you? All I want is for you to-”

“What do you want then? you want me to say that I feel the same way about you? that I've secretly been in love with you for years and never said anything?”

“No, that's not what I— that's not what I want you to say at all!” She runs her fingers through her hair and pushes it out of her face because the haircut she has gets everywhere. “All I want you to say is that you'll even consider me as an option! I just want you to give me a chance. Is that so much for me to ask for?”

You groan to yourself. “Look, if you like me that much, then maybe you should at least make an effort… and then maybe... I'll give you a chance!” With that, you walk towards the front door.

Vi doesn't respond, not immediately, she just stands there watching you leave, a stunned look on her face. But she manages to shake herself out of that stupor in time to follow you.

“Are you serious...?"

“You want me? You gotta work for it,” you respond without slowing your footsteps.

“Woah woah woah, what? work for it?” she sputters, trying to keep up with you. “What more do you want from me?”

“I want-” You stop in front of the door, suddenly turning around to her. “-I want you to prove how serious you are. Just confessing to me isn't going to change everything, and if you're being serious,” you jab a finger to her chest, “then prove it.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to prove myself, huh? Please, tell me, because I'm really at a loss here.”

“I don't know, figure it out.” You shrug. “You claim to be in love with me, right? and if that really were the case, then you have six whole years worth of feelings inside that-” you point at her “-that heart of yours, and you better damn use it.”

“Fine,” she says, and her tone is determined. “You want me to prove it? I'll prove it. I'll prove it so much, you're going to be drowning in how much I prove it. I'm going to do everything just to win your heart. Just watch.”

That sounds cheesy, but... you'd be lying if you said you weren't intrigued. You scoff, turning around and opening the door, but not before saying, “We'll see about that.”

—

Vi stares at the closed door, her thoughts completely occupied with your words.

Prove it.

She shakes her head, a grin on her face as she walks back to her motor.

You and her have had a rocky past, but she's determined to wipe the slate clean.

Vi swings her leg over her motor. She grips the handles tightly and starts the ignition.

She's going to start from the ground zero with you.

And by god, she will prove herself.

[gpcwsl]

Maybe something for wally where she gets a small injury and gets frustrated with the fact that she had so many lately. R takes care of her, makes sure she looks after herself and follows the doctors/physios orders and reassures her she'll be fine, some angst and some fluff at the end

Lia Wälti x Reader

- You don’t get it -

WC: 905

MasterList

Warnings: injury mention? Short?

The sound of Lia’s hiss as she sinks into the couch makes your stomach twist with worry. You can see the way her jaw tightens as she gingerly props her foot up on the cushions, her frustration palpable even though she hasn’t said a word since you left the training ground.

The injury isn’t serious—just a slight sprain, according to the physios—but it’s enough to sideline her for at least a couple of games. And for Lia, that feels like the end of the world.

You sit down beside her, handing her the ice pack you’d wrapped in a towel. “Here. Keep this on it for a while.”

She takes it silently, pressing it to her ankle with a little more force than necessary. You watch her carefully, noticing the way her eyes are fixed on the floor, her brow furrowed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask gently.

She shakes her head, but the tension in her shoulders says otherwise.

“It’s just a small setback, Lia,” you continue, hoping to draw her out. “You’ll be back on the pitch in no time.”

That’s when she snaps. “You don’t get it!” she blurts out, her voice sharp enough to make you flinch. “It’s not just this one. It’s all of them. I feel like I’m constantly getting injured lately. It’s like my body’s falling apart, and I can’t… I can’t keep up anymore.”

The anger in her voice cracks at the end, giving way to something far more vulnerable. She’s not just frustrated—she’s scared.

“Lia…” you start, but she cuts you off.

“What if this is it?” she asks, her voice quieter now but no less intense. “What if my body just can’t handle it anymore? What if I can’t play the way I used to?”

You hate seeing her like this—so defeated, so unlike the steady, composed Lia you know. But you also know that pushing her to look on the bright side isn’t what she needs right now.

Instead, you reach out, placing a hand on her knee. “Hey,” you say softly, waiting until she meets your eyes. “I know it feels like everything’s piling up right now, but this isn’t the end. It’s a sprain, Lia. It’s going to heal, just like all the others did.”

She looks away, her jaw tightening again. “But what if the next one doesn’t?”

You shift closer, your hand still resting on her knee. “Then we’ll deal with it. Whatever happens, you’re not in this alone. You’ve got the team, the physios, the doctors—and you’ve got me.”

Her eyes flick back to yours, and you can see the sheen of unshed tears in them. “I just feel so useless,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not useless,” you say firmly. “You’re one of the most talented, hardworking people I know. And taking a few weeks to recover doesn’t change that.”

She doesn’t respond, but the tension in her shoulders softens just a little.

“Now,” you continue, trying to lighten the mood, “you’re going to follow the physio’s orders, take it easy, and let yourself heal properly this time. No rushing back before you’re ready, okay?”

She arches an eyebrow, a hint of her usual sharpness returning. “Are you planning to supervise me?”

“Absolutely,” you reply without missing a beat. “Starting with making sure you don’t sneak out to train when you’re supposed to be resting.”

Her lips twitch, and for the first time since the injury, she almost smiles.

Over the next few days, you take your self-imposed role as Lia’s caretaker very seriously. You make sure she sticks to her physio’s regimen, even when she grumbles about it. You bring her snacks, water, and anything else she might need so she doesn’t have to get up unnecessarily.

At first, she’s resistant—too independent to fully embrace being looked after. But as the days go by, she starts to relax, leaning on you a little more, both physically and emotionally.

One evening, as you’re helping her adjust the ice pack on her ankle, she speaks up.

“You know you don’t have to do all this, right?” she says, her tone soft but serious.

You glance up at her, surprised. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

She hesitates, looking down at her hands. “Because it’s a lot. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Lia,” you say firmly, taking her hand in yours. “You’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed.”

She looks up at you, her expression unreadable for a moment before it softens. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

“Always,” you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

By the end of the week, Lia’s mood has improved significantly. She’s still frustrated by her limitations, but the spark in her eyes is starting to return, and she’s even laughing more often.

One night, as you’re sitting on the couch together, her head resting on your shoulder, she lets out a contented sigh.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she murmurs, her voice drowsy but sincere.

You smile, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Luckily, you’ll never have to find out.”

She chuckles softly, the sound warming your heart. And as you sit there, holding her close, you know she’ll be okay—and so will you, as long as you’re by her side.

[apocalyqsc]

photoshoot tension

cw; divorced!jensen a. x personal assistant!reader—afab!reader, smut, slight mutual pinning, tension, reader imagines sex w jensen before it happens, arguing, drunk makeup sex, unprotected sex (wrap ‘fore u tap), oral (m! recipient), maybe breeeding kink, age gap (jensen is obviously in his fourties, reader is in their twenties), probably wrote the getting drunk wrong because I’ve never drank before so erm help, morning after.

author’s note; so ik he’s married but what’s better than if he was freshly divorced so uhm yeah, i actually love his wife so i hope they never get divorced but it’s the thought that counts </3

JENSEN under the white flashing lights just stirred up every emotion in you. but he’s just divorced—it’s a clean slate for him. and you can’t jump onto him as soon as it happens. though nobodies stopping you from making up scenarios of whatever you wanted.

to sex in an motel to his dressing room. their were a lot of places. but oh, scrub those thoughts away. quickly.

after the photoshoot, jensen had disappeared to his dressing room. your heart pounded in your chest, all the way to your ribs. you knocked on the door, his gruff reply telling you to come in. you slowly opened the door as you slipped in the room. “so tomorrow you have a day off—but sunday you have another photoshoot,” you rambled off. you weren’t really focusing on him (in fear the impounding thoughts of an inappropriate relationship with you and him would start back up).

“slow down.” jensen let out a soft huff. you had a strange habit to ramble off about plans, it gave you a unique character. but it could also be extremely annoying. that’s what jensen liked about you. it’s why he kept you around to begin with, well, whenever most people would go home. you’d stay. and he wouldn’t say anything “cancel sunday.” “but—” “cancel sunday, okay?” he stared at you sternly. he understood it was nudging towards valentine’s day, yeah—he knew. he just needed a break from all the chaos.

your breath hitched in frustration whenever you had to take the pen and cross out sunday. “you really shouldn’t cancel this photoshoot.” you muttered in yet again, more annoyance.

jensen rolled his eyes, “it’s fine.” you cut your eyes up at him, finally looking away from the calendar.

“no it’s not. it’s coming closer to valentine’s day and you need to give your fans something—i know you’ve been going through a divorce and all, but life sucks. you can’t cancel, it took me months to get the photoshoot booked.” you said, your annoyance rising. you weren’t sure if you meant it or not. but it was a ‘in the moment’ spur. that’s what made jensen upset. he wasn’t feeling very valentiney the month. out of all the months, he had to get divorced finalized in february.

he rolled his eyes, “well once you go through a divorce in february, you won’t be in the mood for cupid photoshoots.” he shoved off the chair he was sitting in, brushing past you. you let out a scoff as he left, obviously leaving. so in time being, the both of you were at an impasse, a deadlock. though neither of you liked that. not at all. not one bit. there were tensions left unsaid, more than just argument tension. built up, sexual, passion tension.

“jensen, you can’t leave without talking to me!” you huffed in annoyance. he very well could. he was a grown man. though his schedule was handled by a person who was half his age. he ran his fingers through his hair as he walked away. only stopping to cut an eye at you.

ՙ ૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა .

it was god knows what time, but you found jensen at a local bar, seemingly avoiding paparazzi. you took a seat beside him, muttering a soft apology. he gave you a court nod. he ordered for the bartender to bring out yet another beer for the ‘pretty girl’ quote his words. it was a good idea. not one bit. but you couldn’t just waste the beer. that’s, that’s not good for the environment.

yeah, not good for the environment at all. but the one thing you didn’t do was spewl out an apology to him. your ego was apparently a little to big to apologize. you brought the glass to your lips, the foam from the beer collection on your upper lip. almost giving you a better mustache than jensen. jensen couldn’t help but let out a little snort, swiping his thumb across your upper lip, without warning. your breath hitched softly before pulling away from his thumb. “thanks. for the uhm beer.” you muttered, only making jensen grin deviously.

shy thing you were when it came to physical contact. “your welcome angel.” jensen whispered hoarsely as he brought his glass to his lips. “so, what’ve you been doing?” he asked you. their wasn’t much of a conversation to have with your personal assistant whenever they spent the whole day around you. so he knows what you’ve been doing. keeping him in line.

“oh nothin’ much” you slurred. “jus’ gettin’ li’l drunk now.” jensen cracked a smile, his hand finding the small of your back. it was a subtle movement, but an intimate one, at that. the soft smile from your lips almost—almost dropped into a derpy little grin. a drunk grin.

“oh yeah?” he mused with a grin a he took a gulp from his glass. “hope that works well for you.” you were definitely a little buzzed at this point, the way you were being so open to him is something you’d never do if you were fully sober. you shot a soft smile before going back to your drinking. from what he could tell, you were a lightweight, “don’t drink to much, ya need to be in the right mind to leave, don’tcha?”

“yeah.” you huffed, “but ‘t’s jus’ to good to leave unattended.” jensen much rather hang out with his personal assistant drunk than sober. god, sometimes you were a complete headache. he sent a soft smile your way as you kept drinking. though it was a few moments later, you were snagging your keys off the bar.

“leavin’ me so soon sweetheart?” he cocked his head at you. you were to fun to leave, “at least let me get you an uber, better yet, let me take you home.” you nodded, slapping your keys in his hand. you got up, and he followed after. you looked like an absolute angel drunk, especially under the bars flashing sign. but he wouldn’t admit that out loud. “now, which one is your car.”

you waved your finger in his face before landing it on a pretty black suv. “that one.” he placed his hand on your back, listening to your drunken rambling. again, total drunk angel. he unlocked the car, opening the passenger door for you. he stood behind you, making sure you didn’t fall onto your ass. jensen propped himself against the seat, reaching across to buckle you up. when he pulled away, your face had morphed into a little grin, and you burst out into little giggles. like a schoolgirl. it was adorable, really it was.

jensen walked around to the driver side. as he climbed into the car, turning the car on—it tumbled to life. you had slumped in your seat, getting a little shut eye time. when he drove to your house, the lights from the city’s lamp lights steady and slowly flashed by, jensen squinting every so slightly under the surprise of each light. he let out a soft breath, his gaze going over to you every so often.

he pulled into a place he new best; a motel. he wasn’t completely sure where you lived, nor did he want to take you to his place and have you gasp awake in fear that you got kidnapped. jensen turned the car off, getting out and walking to your side.

jensen tugged your body out the car. when he shut the door, you opened your eyes. “put me down,” you huffed drunkenly. though he wasn’t one to deny any one of anything, so he slowly placed you on your feet. you pressed yourself against him when you almost fell, staring up at him. it felt like a romance movie. but you were both a little buzzed. at least you were now a little bit buzzed from the effects of the drinking. jensen held you against his body, hands going to your hips.

he guided you inside, where he immediately walked to the clerk at the front desk. “hi. can i get a room, for me ‘n the pretty angel?” jensen said smoothly. the clerk looked up—not at all amused, not phased by jensen’s flirty behavior. she didn’t even take a double look at him, not noticing that he was literally -jensen-freaking-ackles.

he grabbed the keys from the clerk and guided you down to the room of the number on the key. jensen guided you in the room, and before the door was even shut, you were pressing your lips on his. “hey,” he let out soft breath, as he held your shoulders, pushing you away. “your drunk.” jensen brushed your hair with his fingers, guiding you to your bed.

you looked at him with puppy dog eyes, “please?” you let out a soft whine. he didn’t want to deny you. like, just look at that face. he let out a huff as he grabbed your hips, pulling you on top of him. you slowly grinded your clothed hip on his—immediately drawing a reaction from him from the motion. he shouldn’t have been doing this. maybe the beer was clouding his judgment. but, god damn did it feel good. “shit—careful” he said, grabbing a hold of your waist to stop you. jensen’s breath was warm—and already panting. he slowly lifted your hips to tug your pants down. he pulled them off your ankles, tossing them onto the floor. jensen ran his fingers along the pattern of your white floral lace. he pulled them off your body, carefully as they guided down your freshly shaved legs. his breath shuddered at the sight of your bare cunt on view to him. he sat up to guide your shirt off your body. and with years of practicing, used one hand to fall back to your bra clip—and unclipped it.

your breathing picked up as you fell to jensen’s pants, you pulled the button through the hole, pushing his pants down. following his boxers. as you pushed the items off him, you followed. you stopped at his cock—kissing it to life. your breath wavered at the sight of it as it sprung to life. you wrapped your hands around the base, licking the tip. testing the waters before you sunk your head around his erected member. you bobbed your head up and down on his member.

jensen’s hand came to make a makeshift ponytail out of your hair—guiding you up and down. jensen let out a noise slip through his lip, almost whimeper-y like, but a moan. you let out a muted gag, your hands falling away from the base of his member. “fu—mmh—ck!” you cried out. tears built up at your waterline. not in pain, but pleasure. he pulled your head up when he neared release.

“wanna do it in you—” jensen breathed breathlessly, “need’ya to be full of my come.”

you nodded softly. “m’kay.” you huffed out breathlessly—pulling yourself up. you sunk down onto his memeber, your head lolling backwards. letting out a soft moan. jensen held your hips in a vise as he guided you up and down on him, one of his hands shifting to rub your cunt in slow, soft circles. you walls clenched around him, the bed hit the wall ever so often. “jensen—ah—to big!”

jensen hummed, pulling your hair gently. “but your doin’ so good my angel.” he placed his hand back on your hip as the bounces started getting sloppy. “not to sloppy.” he drew his hand away from your cunt going to brush the hair out of your face. the way your face scrunched up—jensen let out soft grunts that were lower than your moans. with your head lolled back, mouth open, it tempted jensen. his thumb seemed towards your mouth. your moans got cut off by a gagging noise. his thumb had worked it’s way into your mouth. you bit down on his finger—but not to hardly.

jensen grinned when he felt you bit down “don’t hurt me angel.” he muttered softly.

the rain started up outside, it pitter-y patter-yied against the window and roof. the bed springs constantly screamed in protest under the movement. muffled noises of people talking came from the other rooms—and likewise, they heard the commotion located in three thirty-seven. occasionally a grumpy man would bang against the wall for the two of you to stop, but it never deterred the either of you.

with each bounce, with each muffled moan, with each grunt—both you and jensen neared closer to release. your walls clenched around him like clockwork. “come. come on my cock—c’mon.” he hummed, his hand on your hip, burning intentions into your skin, the same thumb rubbing circles on your hips. his other hand still in your mouth. and almost—in synch, like the command of you coming struck something in the both of you. jensen painted your gummy pink walls white, and your came around his cock.

you collapsed beside him, his limp member slipping out of you as you shifted off him. you kissed his chest sleepily. slowly falling asleep his seed warmed you right up. you closed your eyes—and fell asleep. but not jensen. he pulled you into his arms. and maybe he was regretting it. regretting it so terribly; you where his personal assistance. although guilt would have to wait til later—maybe at twelve pm tomorrow. but now, you two slept. you slept off the soreness of the sex.

when you woke up, the outside world was unaware of what had happened that night. completely unware that a freshly divorce actor had got it off with his personal assistant. the sun fought against the fog as it poured through the curtain, and jensen was in the shower.

you walked to the bathroom, opening the door. with a sleepy voice, you asked “got room for one more.” jensen pulled the curtain back, inviting you under the shower hose with him. the water acting a soothing mechanism. jensen used the motel soap—and a motel rag to clean your body off. you looked up at him with a soft—almost devious smile as you whispered a soft “thank you.” and maybe that was for last night—and maybe that was for him washing you. it was really to be interpreted anyway he preferred.

in a shaky breath, he whispered back an audible “your welcome” as he stared down your soapy body. jensen pressed his lips against yours, the rag dropping to the bathroom floor. when you pulled away, you both had a smile on your face. though the neither of you knew what this meant to your relationship. was it going to happen again? meant to be? or just a drunken mistake? you didn’t know. jensen didn’t know. but it sure as hell had some remarkable sex in it.

[alwaysobsessed777]

Anything Juju Watkins, she’s seriously underrated 🙏🏻

FOREVER YOURS - J.W.

First juju fic....kinda scared....but let me know if I should keep writing for her

"Juju...i already told you," I could feel my frustration bubbling up. Catching her in the act of kissing another girl was not on my bingo card of the year. "It's a no. I don't care what you have to say, we're done."

"baby....please...its not what it looked like," following like a lost puppy, Juju begged. I couldn't care less in the moment.

Her hand wraps around my wrist, trying to stop me from walking further away. I stopped, looking down at the contact. The calmness of her tone, it further the irritation that was brewing.

I ripped my arm from her grip, "I said I don't want to hear what you have to say. Leave me the f-"

"Y/n....calm down...okay."

"No! If you weren't sucking someone's else face...i wouldn't be acting like this!" I spun around, our eyes meeting. The hurt in her eyes made me want to calm down, but nothing was stopping the hurt that I felt. "I really thought I could trust you...and you walked all over me. My trust...my ego...my love for you. I just need some space...please."

Tears swelled in my eyes. Juju's seemed to mirror. "Okay. I can give you space," she looked down, wiping her eyes before looking back at me, "I love you."

I nod. I had nothing else to say. My legs turned me around, walking me out of the packed party. The party, that if I stayed would have burned something within me, was for the women's team defeating the undefeated UCLA. Maybe she got too cocky. But that cockiness just ruined our whole relationship.

2 weeks later....

It's been hard. I missed her more than I would like to admit. Her sarcasm used to fill the awkward moments with friends. Her jokes flowing in conversation resulting in fits of laughter. Then, her presence. It was grounding, calming, and I needed all of that in my life. But Juju was that....and she wasn't here.

I struggled to pull myself out of bed, groaning with the motion. Hating myself and the world had become a more common thing for me these days. I hated myself for not listening to the girl cause what if she really hadn't done anything. Maybe I jumped to conclusions, maybe I was a jerk, maybe I was the one who didn't deserve her. Not the other way around.

Throwing on whatever was near, I made my way out of the sloppy dorm room. Opening the door, to my surprise, I was welcomed with many holding flowers.

"uh...excuse me," he looked down at the small paper attached to the bouquet of roses, "Y/n? These are for you."

"I think you might have the wrong y/n. Nobody is gonna send me anything," I closed my door, locking before turning back around to face the guy.

"Y/n l/n....from Juju Watkins? Does that sound right?"

Shock washed over me. Why would Juju send me flowers? "Um...yeah...yeah that sounds right."

"well," he held them out, "here you go. Have a nice day, ma'am."

"than-thank you." I stood there, flowers in hand, dumbfounded. I couldn't piece together why, the woman I yelled at and refused to say 'i love you' back too, would send flowers to me.

Quickly, I read the small note attached to the stem. Hoping that it would tell me why she would.

'I know your probably not happy with me...but I wanted to send you flowers (even tho Valentine's day was a little while ago...) for V' day. I would never not get you something....but I figured it would have been stupid to send something right after everything went down. Just know, I'm sorry that what happened happened. I'm always ready to talk whenever you are. I love you too much to not wait. Love, Juju'

"it's not too much is it?" Her voice rang through my ears, my head snapping up to meet the girl I've been missing tremendously.

Juju.

Sniffling, I pulled her into a tight embrace, "I've missed you so much." The words mumbled into my shoulder. Her arms tighten their hold on around me, pulling me impossibly closer.

"I've missed you too," a broken chuckle fell from my lips, "even if I don't necessarily like you right now."

Juju's body tensed, "can we talk about...what happened, please?"

I nodded, escaping her hold to unlock the door. Opening it, I step in allowing Juju to follow.

"I'm so sorry you saw me kiss another girl....but I didn't kiss her. She kissed me. I was drunk...she was drunk....she thought I was into her....so she took her shot. I pushed her off of me, but she latched back on as you walked in. I wish I could've been able to stop you from seeing it. I would have told you what happened....i just wish everything would have went down another way. I'm sorry baby." Juju was almost begging for forgiveness. Her words sinking in, my brain deciding whether to trust her or not. Something in the way she let everything just crash through whatever dam was holding it in convinced me, convinced me that she was telling the truth.

"okay."

"okay?"

"I accept your apology and now I want kisses to make up for it," I held my arms out, hoping the girl would just go with it. To my liking, she did.

"God I've wanted to kiss you for weeks," a smirk settled on her lips, well, before her lips crashed onto mine.

My arms snaked around her neck as her hands fell to my waist. Her grip tight and dominant, almost like she would never let me go. Our lips moved against each other like they were made to be kissed by the other. A feeling of familiarity settled within me. Thoughts seemed to not form properly, other than one thought. We were meant to be, and nothing was going to get in the way of that again.

Once we were both on the verge of not breathing, we broke apart. Smiles stretched across both of our faces as the realization set in.

"I love you more than anything," I whispered, resting my head on her shoulder. Juju's arms pulling me into a hug, the warmth of her embrace calming me. The grounding feeling I had been missing not even an hour ago.

"I love you too, Y/n. More than my own life," the words seemed to effect me more than they had ever before. I felt like she truly meant it.

Nothing would ever break my trust in her again.

------------

A/n : ha...ha....if this is trash, let me know and I won't ever write for juju again.

But if y'all like....let me know and I'll definitely write for her again.

(I'm truly in love with this woman....shes another one of my wives.)

[empressdede]

The Secretary - 3

Chapter Three

Previous

Serena had just sat down at her desk, trying to lose herself in work, when a familiar figure strolled into the office.

Naomi - better known to the world as Ms. Come get this Glow- stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smile on her face.

"Hey girl,"she said smoothly.

Serena blinked, surprised. "Trin? What are you doing here?"

Naomi sauntered in like she owned the place, pulling up a chair across from

Serena’s desk. "Jimmy sent me."

Serena’s stomach dropped. Oh no.

She feigned innocence. "For what?"

Naomi smirked. "Come on now, don’t play me. You know exactly what for."

Serena felt her cheeks heat up. She should have known Roman wouldn’t keep last night’s conversation to himself. And Of course, his cousin sent his wife to do recon.

She straightened her posture. "There’s nothing to talk about."

Naomi laughed. "Oh, there’s definitely something to talk about. Spill."

Serena groaned, rubbing her temples. "I hate your husband."

"No, you don’t." Naomi grinned. "And neither does Roman."

At the mention of his name, Serena tensed. She knew Naomi wasn’t going to let this go, so she sighed, deciding to give her just enough to get her off her back.

"There was…a moment," she admitted reluctantly. "But I stopped it before anything happened."

Naomi raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Serena looked at her like it was obvious. "Because he’s my boss."

Naomi waved that off. "Okay, and? You act like he’s some random CEO in a suit. He’s Roman. He don’t mess with just anybody."

"That’s exactly why it can’t happen," Serena said quickly. "If something went wrong, I’d lose my job. He’s too important for me to risk that."

Naomi studied her for a moment, then leaned forward. "Be honest, Serena. Is it just about the job? Or are you scared?"

Serena hesitated. Scared? No, that wasn’t…

Her stomach twisted.

Okay, maybe.

Because if she let herself feel what she was dangerously close to feeling, it wouldn’t be casual. And that scared her more than anything.

Naomi smiled knowingly. "You like him."

Serena sighed. "It doesn’t matter."

Naomi shook her head. "Oh, it definitely matters." She stood up, adjusting her jacket. "Look, I ain’t telling you to jump into his arms or nothing. But don’t lie to yourself. And don’t think for a second that he don’t feel the same."

Serena swallowed hard. She hated that Naomi was right.

As Naomi reached the door, she turned back. "One more thing. If you really didn’t want something to happen, you wouldn’t be looking at the door like you’re waiting for him to walk through it."

Serena’s breath caught. She hadn’t even realized she was doing that.

Naomi winked. "Think about it, girl."

And with that, she was gone, leaving Serena alone with thoughts she really didn’t want to have.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jey leaned back against the couch in the locker room, a sly grin on his face as he looked over at Jimmy. “Aight, Uce. We gotta speed this up.”

Jimmy smirked. “I’m listening.”

Jey leaned in. “We get Serena to Roman’s hotel room.”

Jimmy’s brows shot up. “Damn, just like that? No warm-up?”

Jey laughed. “Nah, nah, we make it look professional. Something she has to go for.”

Jimmy thought for a second, then snapped his fingers. “Flight mix-up.”

Jey pointed at him. “Boom. That’s it. We tell her the Tribal Chief’s flight got canceled, and she gotta deliver the new itinerary in person.”

Jimmy chuckled. “And once she’s there…”

Jey smirked. “Well, that’s on Roman.”

They both burst out laughing, already knowing that if their plan worked, things would get interesting real quick.

Later That Night –

Serena let out a deep sigh as she checked her phone for the third time. A message from Jey had come through earlier, explaining that Roman’s flight had been canceled last minute and that he needed his updated itinerary personally delivered to his hotel.

Something felt… off.

Normally, she’d just email it. Or text it.

But Jey insisted it was urgent, and Roman would be expecting her.

So now, here she was, standing outside the door of Roman Reigns’ hotel suite, debating whether she should knock or run.

She took a deep breath and knocked.

The door opened almost instantly, and there he was—Roman, standing in a fitted black T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair damp like he had just gotten out of the shower.

Serena’s stomach flipped. Bad. This is bad.

His brows furrowed. “Serena?”

She forced herself to speak. “Jey said your flight was canceled, and you needed this.” She held up the printed itinerary like a shield.

Roman’s expression darkened for a second, like he knew something was up, but he stepped aside. “Come in.”

She hesitated. “I—I can just—”

“Serena.” His voice was low, commanding.

She sighed and walked inside.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with an unspoken tension. As she placed the papers on the table, she felt him watching her.

Then, his voice came quieter, more thoughtful.

“They set this up, didn’t they?”

Serena’s eyes snapped to him. “…What?”

Roman crossed his arms, looking far too amused. “Jimmy and Jey. They sent you here.”

Her stomach sank. Oh, those little—

She cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Roman let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Serena groaned, rubbing her temples. “I swear, if I lose my job over their matchmaking—”

“You’re not losing your job.” His voice was firm.

She looked up at him, realizing just how close he had gotten.

This was exactly why she didn’t want to be alone with him. Because every time she was, the air got heavier, the room smaller, and it became harder to remind herself of all the reasons why this couldn’t happen.

Roman studied her for a long moment before speaking again.

“What are you so scared of?”

Her breath caught.

He wasn’t asking about her job.

He was asking about him. About them.

And for the first time, she didn’t have an answer.

Serena’s heart pounded so hard she swore Roman could hear it.

She should say something professional. Make an excuse. Deflect, like she always did.

But standing there, inches from him, with the warmth of his presence pulling her in like gravity… she couldn’t.

Because he was right.

She was scared.

Scared of crossing a line she couldn’t uncross. Scared of what it would mean if she let herself admit what she already knew deep down.

That this wasn’t just tension.

This wasn’t just a moment.

This was him.

And he wanted her to admit it.

Her throat felt dry as she forced out a shaky breath. “Roman…”

He tilted his head slightly, waiting, his dark eyes locked onto hers like he wasn’t going to let her run this time.

“What are you scared of?” he asked again, softer this time.

She swallowed hard. “You.”

Something flickered in his expression—surprise, understanding, maybe even satisfaction that she had finally said it.

His gaze flickered down to her lips, and instinctively, she mirrored the motion, her own eyes drawn to the curve of his mouth.

All it would take was one step.

One moment of weakness.

And then—

Serena suddenly stepped back, the space between them feeling like a cold rush of reality. She shook her head, forcing her thoughts back into order.

“I can’t.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but she had to say it.

Roman exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. “Serena—”

She took another step back. “If I let this happen, it’s not just some thing I can walk away from. You know that.”

His silence told her he did know that.

And maybe that was the problem.

She glanced toward the door, needing an escape before she did something reckless. “I should go.”

He didn’t stop her.

But as she reached the door, his voice came low and certain.

“This isn’t over.”

Serena froze, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t pleading.

It was a statement. A promise.

And she had never been more terrified of being right.

Next

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She scared of Roman huh? 🤣🤣🤣

Tagging the lovelies: @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @pr0tost4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00

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[florencebirdsong]

hello and happy valentines day! Can I do a request? PLEASE <3

Maybe Agatha and Reader are in a relationship. Agatha is not a fan of Valentine's Day but she wants her first Valentine's Day with reader to be special so plans a magical and elaborate home date to celebrate their first Valentines Day with Reader + smut +breeding kink if it is okay

Thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶

Hi!! Happy valentines day! Absolutely you can thank you so much!! I really hope you like it

Valentine’s Day Event 2025

Tags: breeding kink, strap on, rough, begging, good girl, mistress agatha, ficlet

“The night’s still young,” Agatha says with a heated look.

She stands and holds out her hand. Taking it curiously, you allow her to lead you upstairs. The rose petals start at the stop of the stairs.

“Agatha Harkness, are you trying to woo me?” you ask.

“It is our first Valentine’s Day,” she says.

“The dinner was more than enough. You didn’t need to do this too,” you say, touched.

“I’m well aware that I can fuck you on any surface I’d like,” she says breezily. “I thought I’d do something a little different tonight.”

Grinning, you happily follow her to your bedroom. Satin sheets cover the bed and candles are lit around the room. Agatha allows you only a moment to admire her handiwork before pushing you onto the bed. She climbs on top of you and immediately starts tearing off your clothes. You don’t even pretend to protest the rough treatment. You eagerly help her out of her own before finally stealing the kiss she’s been denying you all night. She slips her warm tongue into your mouth and you moan.

She pulls back too soon but your complaint disappears when something hard nudges your thigh. She spreads your legs wider and guides the tip to your entrance.

“What happened to romantic?” you tease.

“Me being desperate to fill your cunt isn’t?” she asks and fills you with one thrust.

“Fuck,” you say with a choked moan.

“I can always go slow.”

Agatha shows you just how slow she can be as she slowly inches her strap out of you.

“No! No, please don’t,” you try to push yourself back onto it but she holds you still. “Not tonight,” you whine.

“Tell me what I want to hear.”

“Please fuck me, Mistress. Fuck me hard. Fill me with your strap and breed me. Please, I’ll be so good.”

Agatha moans low and thrusts harshly back into you. She doesn’t get any nicer. She fucks you with short, sharp thrusts that have you clinging to her. Her lips and teeth attack your neck, marking you for all to see. You come embarrassingly quickly. The heat flaring inside of you as she grazes that special spot inside of you over and over again. She shudders on top of you and you wrap your legs around her waist, holding her firmly against you as you ride out your own orgasm. 

Her arms shake slightly as she holds herself up.

“Good girl. You take me so well,” she murmurs, placing gentle kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck. You shiver and gently unwrap you legs. “Ah,” she admonishes and stops until you wrap your legs back around her. “We aren’t stopping until I say so.”

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Pokemon collection (pt. 7)"

Or "something made a hole in my backyard pt.7"

Shadow The Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

Notes: Happy Valentine's day!! If you're feeling nice leave a comment, they are hugely appreciated!

Part 6

Fainting was a weird sensation. It´s like when you stood up really fast and you get dizzy, except instead of going away the dizzines just makes you fall to the ground and hit your head.

It was the waking up part that was higly confusing. Mainly because the first thing you saw was a yellow-orangey creature.

"AHHHHH" Yeah, probably the whole neighborhood heard you scream.

And then you heard multiple voices at the same time from which what you understod was: "Hey, there´s no need to scream" from what sounded like a child, "You´re not dead!" from an older child, "This one is weird, she is silent and then loud" that sounded like a grown ass adult. And there was also Ozzy barking.

"Okay everybody, move aside, give her some space" Now that voice you did recognize, that was your aunt Maddie.

Only when she sat next to you did you register that you were laying in the couch. How long had it been?

"Hey sweetie" She started as she gently laid her hand on your arm as though you were a scared animal that would run off at any moment. "I´m sorry this all came as a surprise to you, we didn´t mean to..."

"I´M BACK, WHO SCREAMED?" Tom interrupted her as he appeared out of nowhere, or maybe he had come from upstairs, you didn´t know, you were sooo confused.

"What happened? And why is there a blue hedghog here?"

"We were going to tell you, but then you showed up with Shadow and we didn´t want to..." Once again your aunt was interrupted.

"Hi! I´m Sonic! Your super awesome cousin you didn´t know you had" The hedgehog practically screamed on your face.

"I´m sorry, did you just say cousin?" You asked at him, but you didn´t even let him speak as you turned towards your uncle "Is this why you said kids? Are these... things..."

"Rude" Said, well, Sonic, you guessed.

"...Your kids? And you didn´t tell me?" You couldn´t quite tell if you were feeling offended or confused, there was a sort of thightness on your chest, as if you were hugely overlooking a very important detail.

"Why did you not tell me? And why are there so many of them? What, do you collect them like fucking pokemons or something?" Now you did know what you were feeling.

Angry, hot with anger. You could feel it in every vein on your body, your eyes couldn´t focus on anything, until you found a victim, still sitting right at your side.

"I asked you for help! I thought he was dying and you didn´t even think about telling me that you had seen others like him?!" you screamed at your aunt Maddie as you got up from the couch.

"I didn´t know what to do, he is dangerous!" She quipped right back.

"That´s not your call to make, I would have handled it if you had said something" that was probably one of the first times in your life you had disagreed with your aunt.

Shadow wasn´t dangerous. Sure, he was hurt and he didn´t really trust you, but that didn´t make him dangerous.

"HE TRIED TO KILL TOM!"

...

...

"What?"

Your voice had came out so low you weren´t sure the words had actually left your mouth at all.

"He did, that´s why he has a broken arm" Maddie explained as she grabbed your hands on hers.

"But he´s not bad..."

"He has the ability to be..." she stated as if it was an unmistakable truth.

"Maddie that´s enough, we talked about this" Finally Tom approached the two of you, he put his working arm in between you and stared sternly at his wife. Yet she kept looking at you in your eyes.

"But it doesn´t matter anymore, he´s gone" She tried to smile reassuringly.

"What?" Suddenly the hold on your hands felt restrictive "What do you mean? What did you do?!" you ripped your hands of of hers.

"I-I, nothing, I didn´t do nothing, he was gone when I went looking for you" She seemed shocked at your harsh reaction.

Dread filled your entire body, it had drenched you in an awful way, freezing you from head to toes. A sound left your lips, it wasn´t quite a word, more like a strained gasp.

And the you ran.

You didn´t hear your aunt calling for you as you left the house, or the little yellow fox asking "What is going on?", all you could be aware of was the blood pumping through your legs and your heart beating wildly in your chest. There was a ringing in your ears too, that damned type of ringing that appears when the world is too quiet.

The run to your house felt awfully longer than the walk you had taken that morning, and once you finally arrived your brain was working too fast, trying to focus on everything at once.

From afar the house had looked normal, but the door was open, the lock busted. Your heart had left your chest altogether and was then beating on your throat.

You walked in slowly, the speed you had taken on the run dead as you had stepped on the welcome mat. A voice came from the living room, so you went there first.

The wooden floor creaked with every step you took, and anticipation built in your chest. But there was no one there, only the TV on, broadcasting a Mexican novela.

With every second you gained speed as you ran all the way to the bedroom you were staying in, the one Shadow had taken as his own while he healed.

The bed was neatly done and everything was on place, except the window, which was wide open

"SHADOW! SHADOW WERE ARE YOU?!" you screamed through the window, looking for signs of him on the backyard.

Something warm dripped onto your hand, and, as you touched your face trying to figure out were the liquid had came from, you felt traces of tears painting your cheeks.

You kept calling out his name as you searched around the house, your voice growing weaker and more broken as you didn't find him.

Finally you reached the living room once again, and you collapsed on the couch. You tried to hold your hands together so that they wouldn't shake.

A creak sounded from the window behind you; you turned around.

There he was standing, looking straight at your eyes with his usual frown. He exchanged looks with you for a few seconds and when you finally moved he was too confused as to move.

You jumped over the couch and hugged him. The hard floor digged onto your knees and your body felt tired, but he was alright which was what mattered.

"Where where you?" You questioned him.

"A woman came by, I did what you told me, I hid". His frown looked almost concerned then, as if he was worried he had done something wrong.

"Yes, you did well" You laughed and broke the hug, choosing to keep your hands on his shoulders instead "Maybe a little too well".

"I'm..."

"The ultimate life form? Yeah, yeah, I know"

"No, I'm... Sorry, that I worried you" he stared at the ground.

You almost choked on a sob at his words.

"It's okay, I was just worried you were hurt, there's nothing to apologize for sweetie" you explained as you held his face in your hands.

What a twist your life had taken.

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423@kyouzki@moon-trash1507@shadowforlive

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡A Drunk Valentine 💝

You've ordered: a dark chocolate liquor donut! enjoy!

"But, hey, what can you do? I'm a touchy feely fool~"

Rafayel x reader | word count: 1,059 words

Summary: you accidentally leave out liquor chocolates...what's the worst that could happen? 💝

Warnings: mentions of liquor chocolates, rafayel gets a little tipsy (i imagine him as a lightweight-), mild spice (MDNI). not really a warming, but lowkey clingy rafayel 🤍

Note: my first love and deepspace fic! i haven't played the game (yet), so if anything in this fic seems inaccurate, feel free to (respectfully) let me know. happy valentine's day! 💕

Your Valentine's Day with your boyfriend was rather eventful and warmed your heart to its core. First thing in the morning, you woke up to a pleasant and delicious breakfast in bed. After feeding each other and sneaking kisses, the two of you relaxed in bed for the majority of the day, just enjoying each other's presence.

Later on, Rafayel took you out for a lavish dinner, set right by the ocean. And at the end of it all, you two exchanged gifts. He gave you the gift he'd been working on for weeks on end: a gorgeous painting of you as a merperson. You gave him clay figures you sculpted to look just like the two of you. The night ended off with you and Rafayel playing around in the ocean, splashing each other and having an all around good time.

You two finally made your way back home, stepping into your cozy shared apartment. You had dried off with the towels Rafayel had in the car, but your skin still begged for a shower.

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get in the shower." you told your boyfriend, getting a thumbs up in response.

As you disappeared down the hallway, Rafayel floated around the apartment, looking for something to hold his attention until you got back. His eyes soon settled upon two boxes of chocolate, one blue and one red. There weren't any names or labels on them, both boxes filled with the same chocolates.

Surely, you wouldn't mind if Rafayel snuck a few, right? After all, you two were probably going to eat them together after your showers.

---

You exited your shared bedroom, all cozy in your pajamas. Now all you needed was for Rafayel to shower and you two could spend the rest of Valentine's Day cuddling and watching a movie.

"Rafayel, the shower's free!" you announced, walking down the hallway. Usually, you'd already hear him making his way down the hall, but this time, you didn't get a response at all.

"Rafayel?" you called out, hearing a faint mumbling from the living room.

There you saw him, slumped onto the couch, his cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded. He was giggling and mumbling something incoherent, his fingers stained with a bit of...brown? Your eyes traveled down to where the blue box of chocolates sat, wide open with half the box gone.

"Rafayel, how many of these did you eat?" you asked, rushing over and taking the box.

"Why are you so...worried about it? Aren't those...for me?" he asked, his speech a bit slured.

"No! They're liquor filled chocolates, for my boss!" Rafayel raised an eyebrow, scooting over to where you kneeled near the couch.

"You...bought chocolate...for your boss?" he questioned, a frown on his lips.

"Of course I did. My boss gave everyone chocolate yesterday and I just wanted to return the favor." you said, sighing as you looked at the half empty box of chocolates. "I'll have to buy another one."

"Why are you...buying chocolates for...another man?" Rafayel asked, reaching over to tilt your chin up.

You almost burst out laughing at his question, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers. "Rafayel, my boss is a woman."

The purple haired male blinked at you, him frown now turning into a pout. "But maybe she-"

"She's married. And has kids." you said, already knowing what your boyfriend was thinking. He was so clingy when he was drunk, especially right now.

"Come on, let's go get you in the shower, and then we'll get you sobered up, okay?" you hummed, cupping his cheeks in your hands. You couldn't deny how cute he looked, all drunk and blushing and pouty.

As hard as it was to lug a six foot drunk man to the bathroom, you somehow managed to get him there. You let go of him to turn on the shower, turning around to take your leave.

"Let me know if you need anything." you said, sneaking a glance at him unbuttoning his shirt.

Before you knew what was happening, Rafayel pulled you into the shower with him, clothes and all. He pressed you back against the frosty glass, his knee moving to slip between your legs.

"What the hell?" you gasped, your own cheeks starting to heat up. He didn't say anything, just stared at you with those big and beautiful eyes of his.

"Rafayel, this is not the time for this. You need to shower and-!" He quickly silenced you with a kiss, his lips slowly moving against yours. Honestly, you didn't really mind, your senses going numb as you melted into it.

You could taste the sweet chocolate and bitter liquor on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening. Who would've thought that your Valentine's day would end with a steamy make out session, fully clothed, and in the shower? Obviously not you.

Rafayel let out a soft noise as he moved from your lips to kiss down your neck, a hand coming up to pull down the collar of your shirt. Your head was spinning, the warm steam enveloping you, your now wet clothes sticking to your skin, the smell of Rafayel's cologne in the air. All of it sent your heart into a mad frenzy. And you just wanted more.

You tangled your hand into his hair, sighing softly as his lips pressed to your collarbone. You were starting to feel warm and tingly all over, hearing his deep breathing in your ear.

"Rafayel." you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut. He continued to kiss over your skin, his movements becoming a bit slower. Then, you felt him still against you.

"Hello? Rafayel?" you murmured, nudging his head with your shoulder. Oh, look at that. He got you all worked up only to fall asleep right in the middle of it! And this was why he didn't drink often.

You somehow managed to get yourself and Rafayel out of the shower and into warm and dry clothes. He sluggishly flopped into bed with you, curling up to your chest like a cat would and falling asleep almost immediately.

His soft snores made you smile as you ran your fingers through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

What an eventful evening.

Note to self: write names on chocolate boxes next year. 💝

© m00nkissedlover, 2025