#i’m in my feels today if you couldn’t tell

[gyu-tori]

The Great Valentine Heist | C.BG

A PRE-VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL

Pairing: highschooler!beomgyu x fem!reader Genre: FLUFF and Comedy

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Beomgyu hatches a plan to steal a box of chocolates from your locker, sparked by a bit of jealousy. But as his scheme unravels in a whirlwind of chaotic mishaps, including a mix-up with the chocolates and a series of awkward excuses, he’s forced to come clean about his true intentions.

What started as a silly heist ends up revealing more than he bargained for—perhaps even something sweet that wasn’t part of the plan.

Word count: 5.2k

It was the usual chaos at the school courtyard, buzzing with the energy of Valentine’s Day. Students scurried around, exchanging chocolates, roses, and sweet nothings like their lives depended on it. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the frantic clatter of school bags as the students walked by, some wearing bright smiles, others clinging to their best friends, desperately trying to hide their nerves and uncertainty about whether they would receive anything in return.

Among them, you sat quietly on one of the benches near the school garden, staring blankly at the half-eaten sandwich in your hands. Valentine’s Day wasn’t really your thing. It wasn’t that you hated the holiday; you just didn’t see the point in putting too much stock in it. Besides, you were more than content to go about your day as usual—until Beomgyu showed up, of course.

You were midway through taking a bite when Beomgyu suddenly slid into the seat next to you, all wide eyes and the kind of grin that made it clear he was plotting something. You barely had a chance to glance up before he was already leaning in, getting way too close for comfort, his head tilting as if he were studying you like you were some kind of rare specimen.

“So,” Beomgyu began, his voice light, teasing, “did you get any chocolates today?” He raised an eyebrow as if daring you to answer. “Or are you still too intimidating for anyone to dare?”

You glanced at him from over the edge of your sandwich, the same exasperated look that you always wore when he popped up. You swallowed your food with the grace of someone who had long grown used to Beomgyu’s antics, before responding with a deadpan expression. “Sure, Gyu. I’m just so terrifying that no one’s brave enough to offer me any. That must be it.”

Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head, the playful gleam in his eyes only sharpening. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and gave you an exaggerated once-over. “Yeah, right. I bet they’re all too scared to talk to you. It’s not like anyone would want to give chocolates to someone as intimidating as you.”

You rolled your eyes again, suppressing the urge to sigh. “If only you knew how much of a relief that is,” you muttered, looking out at the students milling about, most of them caught up in their own holiday dramas. “I’d rather not deal with all the clichés and awkward exchanges.”

“You’re just bitter ‘cause no one gave you any chocolates,” Beomgyu teased, nudging you with his elbow. His tone was mocking, but you could tell there was an underlying hint of something else, something more familiar to you now—an odd mixture of jealousy and competitiveness.

“Sure, that’s exactly it,” you deadpanned, though you couldn’t suppress the ghost of a smirk. “Because I’m so desperate for chocolates, I just can’t stand it.” You leaned back on the bench, unbothered. “Maybe you should try a little harder next time. You know, if you really want to get in the Valentine’s spirit.”

Beomgyu pouted dramatically, a mock-sad expression overtaking his usual cocky grin. “Oh, I try. Trust me. But you don’t know how hard it is when everyone around you is just too blind to see my charm.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Right. You’re ‘charming,’ all right.”

Before you could continue the banter, you heard a familiar sigh next to you. Soobin had appeared, his presence immediately making the air feel a little less chaotic. The subtle tension in the air shifted, as if everything in the world was a little more put-together when Soobin was around. He leaned casually against the bench, shaking his head as he looked from Beomgyu to you.

“You’re really doing this again, huh?” Soobin’s voice was laced with fond exasperation, his arms crossing in a way that made it clear he’d heard this exact conversation countless times before.

“Oh, come on, Bin,” Beomgyu grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. “It’s Valentine’s Day. People should know better than to try to resist my charm.” He struck a ridiculous pose, complete with finger guns aimed at an imaginary crowd. “I’m the perfect Valentine’s package.”

Soobin sighed again, a long and deeply audible sigh that seemed to come from the very core of his being. “If only the rest of the school agreed with you.”

“Right? They just don’t understand what they’re missing,” Beomgyu whined dramatically, tilting his head back and pretending to stare at the sky in pure anguish. “It’s so unfair. I’m charming, I’m funny, I have looks, and yet here I am, still single. What more do they want?”

“So, what’s your plan for today then?” Soobin asked, clearly not caring to entertain Beomgyu’s long-winded monologue on how society had failed to recognize his greatness. “You just gonna keep complaining, or are you gonna do something about it?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Beomgyu said, with all the certainty of someone who had no idea what he was about to get himself into. “You’ll see.”

You could feel the familiar sense of dread settle into your chest. Beomgyu’s ‘plans’ were always a disaster waiting to happen, and you had no desire to be dragged into whatever he had in mind. In fact, you were far too busy for his antics. You were preparing a small surprise of your own—a box of chocolates you had carefully made for someone special. It wasn’t much, but it felt meaningful. However, you couldn’t help but doubt that this person would actually accept your gesture. You knew better than to expect much from them.

Before you could lose yourself in your thoughts, Minjeong waved from across the courtyard. You waved back and made your way over to her, your mind still lingering on the chocolates.

“So,” Minjeong said as she joined you, her voice light with curiosity, “how’s the Valentine’s Day prep going?”

You smiled faintly, feeling a small flutter in your chest. “Nothing too big. I’ve got some chocolates ready. For someone special.” You didn’t offer more, letting the words hang in the air. You didn’t need to explain more. Minjeong understood.

Beomgyu, of course, overheard your mention of chocolates, and his eyes immediately lit up like a kid in a candy store. You didn’t need to see him to know he was already planning something. You heard him lean closer to Soobin, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You’re telling me,” Beomgyu began, practically purring with excitement, “that (Y/N) has chocolates for someone special? This is too good to ignore.” He suddenly sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing with a gleam of mischief. “I think it’s time for... The Great Valentine Heist.”

Soobin’s expression darkened instantly. “The Great Valentine Heist?” he repeated, a note of dread in his voice. “That sounds like it’s going to end in disaster.”

Beomgyu’s grin only widened. “Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?” he said with an exaggerated shrug, the air of a man who thought he had everything under control. “I’m just ‘borrowing’ Y/N’s chocolates for a little while. They’ll never even know.”

Soobin shook his head slowly, as if mentally preparing himself for the inevitable fallout. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, though it was clear his protests would go ignored. “You never learn.”

Beomgyu just laughed, all too confident. “Have a little faith in me. When have my plans ever gone wrong?”

Soobin, without missing a beat, began counting on his fingers. “Let’s see... You almost set fire to the science lab during last year’s prank. You sent an entire class’s worth of flowers to the wrong room last month, and don’t even get me started on the dance debacle with the sprinklers.” Soobin shook his head, his voice tinged with a touch of disbelief. “You think this is going to work?”

“Don’t worry, Bin,” Beomgyu called over his shoulder. “It’s The Great Valentine Heist—how could it possibly go wrong?”

Soobin just sighed, resigned to the fact that this would, without a doubt, end terribly.

The day had arrived for Beomgyu’s most ambitious plan yet: The Great Valentine Heist. He was buzzing with excitement, practically bouncing on his heels as he caught sight of Soobin leaning against the lockers, a sigh already escaping his lips.

"Soobin!" Beomgyu called out, his voice filled with that over-the-top enthusiasm he reserved for his most ridiculous schemes. "I need you to help me with something huge today."

Soobin's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable but full of dread. “What now, Gyu? This can’t possibly be anything good.”

“Relax!” Beomgyu waved his hand dismissively. “This is going to be a piece of cake. Just a little heist I’m planning, that’s all.”

Soobin sighed again, already feeling the weight of Beomgyu's plans crashing down on him. “And what exactly am I supposed to do this time?”

“I need you to be my distraction ninja,” Beomgyu said, leaning in dramatically as if unveiling some grand strategy.

Soobin blinked. “A what?”

“A distraction ninja!” Beomgyu repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re going to cause a scene so ridiculous that everyone’s attention will be completely taken off me. I’ll slip in, grab the chocolates, and be out of there before anyone knows what happened.”

Soobin let out a tired groan. “And you want me to do this because… why?”

Beomgyu grinned. “Because, my friend, I need someone who can make the whole school stop and stare. Something loud. Something no one can ignore.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Like, sneeze on purpose?”

“Exactly!” Beomgyu said, clapping his hands together. “Go big or go home!”

“I’m going to regret this,” Soobin muttered under his breath, but he knew there was no getting out of it now.

The plan was set. Beomgyu’s eyes were gleaming with confidence as he prepared to execute what was sure to be a disaster in the making.

As you stood by your locker, carefully sorting through your things, you were completely oblivious to the chaotic scene unfolding around you. But then, you heard it: an over-the-top sneeze that echoed down the hallway.

“ACHOO!”

The sound was exaggerated, like a performance, followed by loud, drawn-out coughing. You paused, your eyes darting toward the sound just in time to see Soobin stumbling into view. His face was contorted into a mock expression of agony, his body lurching as if he were about to collapse any second.

You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help watching as Soobin dramatically lurched forward, clutching his chest. “I’m... dying,” he muttered between over-the-top coughs, his voice rising to an almost theatrical pitch.

You crossed your arms, leaning against your locker with a slight smile tugging at your lips. Soobin’s antics were ridiculous, and yet, you found it hard to ignore. You shook your head, muttering to yourself, “Is this really what he’s come to?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu had already started his approach. The commotion from Soobin’s dramatic performance had everyone’s attention on him, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

As Soobin continued to act out his fake illness, Beomgyu darted toward your locker with the same sneaky air of someone trying to pull off an elaborate heist. His fingers trembled with anticipation as he fumbled with your locker combination. The adrenaline surged in his veins—he had to hurry before the distraction wore off.

But the lock wouldn’t budge.

His hands fumbled with the combination, his palms sweating. No—he couldn’t mess this up. He had to get the chocolates.

Just as he was about to give up, a student turned the corner and walked right toward him.

Panicking, Beomgyu froze. His mind raced as he thought of a way to cover his tracks. In a split second, he forced a smile, standing tall as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Oh, wow, these lockers sure are something,” Beomgyu said loudly, gesturing to the locker in front of him with exaggerated enthusiasm. “The craftsmanship on this model is amazing, don’t you think? You just have to appreciate a good locker.”

The student gave him a confused look but shrugged, continuing on their way, probably questioning Beomgyu’s sanity. Beomgyu let out a quiet sigh of relief before quickly returning to his mission.

After what felt like an eternity of fumbling, Beomgyu finally cracked the code and opened the locker. His eyes darted to the box inside, and he grinned. There it is.

As Soobin’s performance escalated, so did the crowd around him. You were still distracted, your attention fixed on Soobin’s exaggerated antics. Your attention had completely shifted from the contents of your locker to the chaos before you. Soobin was tripping over himself, flailing as if he were on the verge of falling apart.

Then, in a moment of pure absurdity, Soobin’s foot caught on the edge of the hallway’s floor tiles, sending him face-first toward the ground.

You gasped, rushing forward to check if he was okay. “Soobin!” you exclaimed, crouching beside him.

“Ugh... I’m fine...” he groaned, pulling himself up, though his face was now an unflattering shade of red from the sudden fall.

You shook your head, trying not to laugh as you helped him up. “Really, Soobin? You should’ve just sneezed like you were supposed to—”

But before you could finish, you noticed that the chaos around you had died down, and Beomgyu, now holding the box, was walking away.

You couldn’t help but give Soobin a look. “This is exactly why I stay away from you two. I can’t even focus on my own locker when you’re causing a scene like this.”

Soobin grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, totally not a scene, right?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu, having gotten away with what he thought was a flawless heist, turned to Soobin with a triumphant grin.

“Hey, good acting, my guy. You really sold it out there.”

Soobin, still rubbing his nose from the fall, plastered a grin on his face. “Haha, totally was acting…”

Beomgyu paused, staring at Soobin for a moment. “Wait, what...?” His eyes narrowed as he noticed something that had escaped him before. "Dude, your nose is bleeding!"

Soobin’s grin faltered as he instinctively wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Oh... that’s not good, is it?” he muttered, his voice tinged with the realization that his “acting” might have been a little too realistic.

Beomgyu, now fully realizing that the situation was a bit more chaotic than he’d anticipated, gave a loud, exasperated groan. “You’re really going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you, Bin?”

The day was going fine until you caught sight of Beomgyu and Soobin acting weird—really weird. Beomgyu was standing with his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets, his eyes darting from side to side as if trying to avoid looking too suspicious. Soobin, for his part, had his arms crossed, but his usual calm demeanor was noticeably absent. He kept glancing over at Beomgyu, who was clearly sweating bullets.

You raised an eyebrow as you walked toward them. “What’s going on with you two? You’re acting like you’ve just been caught red-handed.”

Beomgyu froze, his mouth opening and closing in a clear attempt to come up with a believable excuse. After a moment of awkward silence, he blurted, “Uh... locker security inspections. Yeah. You know, just making sure everyone’s lockers are secure. It’s, uh, an important job. Can’t leave it to anyone else, right?”

You stared at him for a second, clearly not buying it. You crossed your arms and gave him a pointed look. “Really? Locker security?”

Soobin smirked slightly but didn’t say anything, choosing to let Beomgyu sweat it out. You could already tell something was off.

“Uh-huh,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, whatever. I don’t have time to question your important work. Carry on.”

You left them to their questionable business, still not entirely convinced but deciding to let it slide for now. You turned around and headed to your next class.

Meanwhile, the chaos had only just begun.

Kai was standing in front of his locker, his brows furrowed in confusion as he sifted through his things. After a moment, he slammed the door shut with a frustrated grunt and started walking around the hallway, asking anyone who would listen.

“Has anyone seen my chocolates? I swear I left them right here. They’re nowhere to be found!” Kai’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of a few nearby students.

Beomgyu froze when he overheard the frantic questioning. His heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat began to form on his forehead. He’d been so caught up in the heist that he hadn’t even realized his mistake.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, panic starting to creep into his voice.

Soobin, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Congratulations, my friend,” Soobin said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve officially upgraded from prankster to thief.”

Beomgyu shot him an exasperated look, his anxiety mounting. “I’m not a thief, Soobin! I was just—well, it wasn’t supposed to go this far…”

Soobin laughed louder, clearly enjoying Beomgyu’s misery. “Yeah, sure. Just borrowin’ them for a bit.”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu muttered, his mind racing for a way to fix this disaster. He had to get the chocolates back to Kai before anyone else found out.

Beomgyu and Soobin hastily came up with a plan to sneak the chocolates back into Kai’s locker, but, as expected, it didn’t go smoothly.

“Alright, we’ve got this,” Beomgyu said, his voice filled with forced confidence as they approached Kai’s locker. “We just have to slip them in when no one’s looking.”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “You sure about that? Because last time you ‘just had to slip something in,’ it didn’t exactly go according to plan.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare. “Not helping, Bin.”

They crouched near Kai’s locker, trying to look casual. Soobin slowly reached into his pocket to pull out the chocolates, but, in a comical turn of events, his fingers slipped, and the box went tumbling to the ground.

It hit the floor with a loud thud, bouncing once before it rolled straight toward the edge of the stairwell.

“Oh no,” Beomgyu groaned in horror. “Not again.”

Before Soobin could react, the box plummeted down the stairs, bouncing all the way to the bottom.

“I’ll go get it!” Beomgyu shouted, immediately bolting toward the stairs, his legs moving faster than his brain. He was halfway down before he realized what he was doing. Of course this would happen.

But just as Beomgyu reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to see a figure emerging from the hallway—Kai. Kai, who was still asking around about his missing chocolates, had somehow found his way to the same stairwell. Beomgyu’s heart raced in panic.

Trying to salvage the situation, Beomgyu immediately froze mid-run, twisting his body into an awkward, exaggerated pose. He spread his arms wide as if trying to demonstrate some kind of parkour move, landing with an overly dramatic flourish.

“Oh, hey, Kai! Just, uh, practicing some parkour,” Beomgyu said, his voice forced as he tried to act casual, even though his face was already beet red from the sheer awkwardness of it all.

Kai blinked, clearly thrown off by Beomgyu’s strange behavior, but after a brief pause, he gave a stiff nod. “Uh... alright, sure. Parkour… looks good, Beomgyu,” Kai said with a nervous laugh before quickly turning to walk away.

Beomgyu let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, his body still in that awkward position. “Parkour...” he muttered to himself, still trying to act like he hadn’t just made a fool of himself.

Once he was sure Kai was gone, Beomgyu quickly snatched the box from the floor and stuffed it into the front of his hoodie, hoping no one would notice.

Just as Beomgyu was about to stand up, feeling a brief moment of relief, you appeared in front of him, your arms crossed and a confused look on your face.

“Beomgyu… Why do you look like a lumpy kangaroo?”

Beomgyu froze, his eyes wide in panic as you stared at him, clearly noticing the suspicious bulge in his hoodie.

“What? No!” Beomgyu stammered, trying to adjust his hoodie in a way that didn’t make it look even more suspicious. “It’s just, uh, I’m carrying some books... you know, heavy books.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Definitely looks like books.”

“Yep, books!” Beomgyu said with a nervous laugh, his hand awkwardly patting the bulge in his hoodie.

You tilted your head, still not buying his excuse. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it then, Kangaroo Beomgyu.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Beomgyu to stand there, cursing his luck. Soobin, watching the entire interaction from a distance, couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Smooth, Beomgyu. Real smooth,” Soobin called out, his voice full of mockery.

Beomgyu just groaned in defeat, mentally preparing for the rest of his disastrous day.

You had been keeping an eye on Beomgyu all day, watching him with increasing suspicion as he passed your locker with strange frequency. At first, you thought it was just a coincidence, but after the third time, you were certain something was off.

Beomgyu had been acting a little too... flustered. He kept glancing your way, and you caught him avoiding your gaze whenever you walked by. His usual carefree demeanor had been replaced by an almost comical nervous energy. It didn't take long for you to put two and two together: he was up to something.

You had no idea what that something was, but you were determined to find out.

By the time lunch ended, you had a plan. You'd wait until Beomgyu made his move, and when he did, you'd corner him. You just had to make sure you caught him in the act.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, you spotted Beomgyu sneaking past your locker once again, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching. You knew it was now or never.

You quickly approached, stepping in front of him to block his path. Beomgyu froze, his eyes widening as he took an awkward step back.

“Beomgyu,” you said, crossing your arms, “What are you up to?”

Beomgyu looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh—uh, nothing! Just heading to class!” he stammered, his voice higher than usual.

You raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Really? You’ve been acting weird all day. What’s going on?”

He looked around, his body stiffening as if preparing for an escape. “I... uh... I’m just... checking on something... very important. Locker security!” His eyes widened as though he was suddenly convinced this was a plausible excuse.

“Locker security?” You blinked. “Beomgyu, what do you mean by ‘locker security’?”

Beomgyu tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you know! Just making sure no one’s... tampering with lockers, or... or stealing anything, you know? Like chocolates.”

You raised an eyebrow again, clearly unconvinced. “Chocolates? Beomgyu, do you honestly think I’m buying that?”

He flustered, his voice trembling. “I mean, uh... yeah! Locker safety is really important, okay? Especially for Valentine’s chocolates! They’re... uh... high-risk items!”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “And why does that sound like a terrible excuse?”

He opened his mouth, trying to come up with something better, but nothing came out. You had him cornered, and he knew it.

“Okay, okay! Fine, you caught me!” Beomgyu blurted, a little too loudly. “I... I may have borrowed someone’s chocolates. Just for a second! You know, to... uh, check them over, make sure they’re in perfect condition for delivery!”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Wait... borrowed someone’s chocolates? Who?”

Beomgyu’s eyes darted nervously. “Uh... well, I thought it might be poisoned! I—uh—didn’t want the owner of the chocolates to get hurt, so I... I took them for a bit. You know, to make sure they were safe.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Poisoned?” You shook your head, not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by the sheer absurdity of his excuse. “Really? You think someone is poisoning chocolates in a school locker?”

Beomgyu nodded earnestly, clearly trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You can never be too careful with these things, right? I was just... looking out for the owner’s safety!”

Before you could respond, you noticed something—Beomgyu was holding a box of chocolates wrapped in dark red paper. You’d seen that box before. In fact, you knew whose it was.

Kai’s.

You stared at him, realization dawning. “That’s Kai’s chocolates,” you said slowly, your voice flat. “What are you doing with them?”

Beomgyu froze, his face pale. “Uh... Kai’s chocolates... I didn’t steal them, it wasn’t me! I... uh... I was just... returning them!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Returning them?”

“Yes! Exactly! I just thought... Well, uh, I was just being a good Samaritan!” Beomgyu smiled awkwardly, but his charm wasn’t working this time.

Just as you were about to respond, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for those!” Kai said, walking toward you with a confused expression. “Where did my chocolates go?”

You and Beomgyu both turned to look at him. Beomgyu looked like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Kai! Hey, uh, these... these are yours?” Beomgyu asked weakly, trying to act nonchalant as he awkwardly held the box out to Kai.

“Yeah, those are mine,” Kai said, raising an eyebrow. “But... why do you have them?”

Beomgyu gulped. “I... I was just—uh... you know, checking them out! Making sure they’re... uh... still good? It’s a... safety measure!”

Kai glanced at you, clearly trying to piece everything together. “Okay, I’m not really following. Why do you have them, Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed red as he tried to come up with an excuse, but before he could speak, you interrupted. “Wait a second. I get it now. You’ve been after my chocolates the whole time, haven’t you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No! I was just—”

“Admit it, Gyu,” you interrupted, your voice soft but firm. “You thought these were mine, and you took them because you didn’t want me giving them to someone else.”

Beomgyu froze. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. The guilt on his face was obvious.

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Okay, okay, I admit it!” Beomgyu finally blurted, his voice frantic. “I took the chocolates because I didn’t want you to give them to anyone else, okay? I didn’t know how to tell you! I just—ugh, I didn’t want to see you giving them to someone else!”

Kai chuckled behind him. “Well, now this is getting interesting.”

You stood there, shocked by his confession. “Gyu... I made those chocolates for someone special,” you said softly, letting the words sink in.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Wait... what? Then... who...?”

You pulled a second box of chocolates from your bag, the real ones—the ones you’d made just for him—and held them out to him. “I made them for you, you dummy” you said softly.

For a moment, Beomgyu stood there, completely speechless. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He stared at the box in your hand as though it might disappear any second.

“You made them for me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I figured you might need a little extra push to admit how you felt.”

Beomgyu’s eyes softened, and slowly, a wide grin spread across his face. “I... I can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, someone had to keep you on your toes.”

Beomgyu took the chocolates from you, his hands shaking slightly as he held them. “I... I don’t deserve these,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I just... made everything worse.”

You gave him a teasing grin. “It’s okay, Beomgyu. You were just a little jealous. But I’m glad you figured it out.”

He looked up at you, his usual confidence flickering back into his eyes, although there was still a hint of nervousness. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, still holding the chocolates. “Next time, I’ll just steal your heart instead.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back your smile. “Good luck with that, Beomgyu.”

“So,” Kai interrupted, leaning in with a smirk, “When’s the wedding?”

You shot him a glare, but inside, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you. Maybe this chaotic Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

After the chaos settled down and Beomgyu was left to deal with the teasing, Soobin and Kai found a quiet spot near the school courtyard, watching the scene unfold in front of them. Beomgyu, still holding the box of chocolates, was getting playfully scolded by you. He looked embarrassed but happy at the same time—quite the rare sight.

Soobin crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on Beomgyu. “Why do I let him talk me into these things?” he muttered, shaking his head.

Kai, who had been smirking the entire time, glanced at Soobin. “Because you secretly love it,” he teased, giving his friend a knowing look.

Soobin shot him a look of disbelief. “No. I just don’t want him to cause more damage.”

Kai chuckled, nodding in agreement as they both watched Beomgyu finally get a teasing shove from you. “Yeah, it’s probably the best you can do, trying to keep him out of trouble.”

The two of them exchanged a look, clearly rooting for you and Beomgyu to get together. Soobin sighed, but there was a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I swear, this guy never learns.”

“So,” Soobin continued, glancing over at Kai with curiosity, “Who are you giving those chocolates to?”

Kai raised an eyebrow, the mischievous glint never leaving his eyes. “Oh, no one,” he said casually. “I bought them for myself at the 7-Eleven in front of the school. They were on sale, so why not?”

Soobin stared at him, unamused. “Then why the hell were you looking for it like a mad man earlier?”

Kai shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Hey! I’m not letting my money go to waste.”

Soobin shook his head, but a laugh escaped him anyway. “You're unbelievable.”

Kai just grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Hey, it’s all about the deals, my friend. Want some”

Soobin rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, turning his attention back to Beomgyu. "I still can’t believe the two get along so well," he muttered. "The chaos is real."

Kai snickered, glancing over at Beomgyu again. "They’re a match made in disaster. Honestly, I’m just here for the drama.”

Soobin sighed again, but there was no hiding the amusement in his expression now. "I can’t believe I’m actually looking forward to seeing how this mess turns out."

Kai grinned even wider. "I think it’s about to get interesting."

And so, despite all the chaos, The Great Valentine Heist was, in its own twisted way, a success. Beomgyu got the chocolates he’d been after (well, sort of), you finally got to admit your feelings, and even Soobin and Kai found themselves oddly satisfied with the results. After all, what’s a little mayhem between friends? Maybe, just maybe, there was something sweet to be found in all the madness.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Surprise!! Here's a fic for you guys to enjoy to start of february~ This was supposed to be posted ON valentine's but decided against it to make space for the collab so you'll get it early. Celebrating the start of February. No angst today since this month is all about love and sweet stuff, so I'll spare your tears for once (maybe saving them for the collab). Luv y'all!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp

[mammons-lover]

Therapy With Mammon

Therapist (smiling warmly, gesturing toward the seat): Hello, Mammon. Please, have a seat.

Mammon (flopping into the chair with a grin): What’s up, Doc? How ya doin’?!

Therapist (chuckling softly): I’m doing well, thank you. And you?

Mammon (leaning back, arms crossed casually): Me? Oh, I’m amazin’, as usual. So, uh, what’s this all about again?

Therapist (calmly): Well, I was hoping you could tell me. What made you decide to come see me today?

Mammon (scratching the back of his neck, feigning nonchalance): Oh, y’know... just wanted to chat. You’ve heard about what happened with Lucifer and Satan, right?

Therapist (nodding slightly): I’m aware of the incident, but I’d like to hear it from your perspective.

Mammon (avoiding eye contact, voice lighter than the weight of his words): Ah, it ain’t that big a deal... just, y’know, Lucifer losin’ it. Hurtin’ Satan. But nah, that’s not why I’m here. I just... don’t wanna end up like him.

Therapist (leaning forward slightly, tone gentle): And what do you mean by that?

Mammon (grinning nervously): I mean, I don’t wanna hurt him, obviously! Not like... not like he hurt Satan.”

Therapist (noting the shift in tone): Why do you think you’d hurt Lucifer?

Mammon (shrugging, trying to stay light): Dunno... maybe ‘cause I get it now. What he told Diavolo, ‘bout all that resentment. I got it too. For him.

Therapist (gently): You resent Lucifer?

Mammon (hesitating, his voice quieter): To an extent... yeah. But it’s not hate, y’know? It’s more like... Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if we didn’t fall.

Therapist (calmly encouraging): And how do you think you’d be?

Mammon (smiling wistfully, gaze distant): Different. Better, maybe. I wasn’t perfect, but I was a lot... kinder. People liked me, even when I messed up. I’d try to fix things back then. Now? Feels like everythin’ I touch just goes wrong.

Therapist: Can you give me an example?

Mammon (rubbing his face, voice heavy with frustration): Yeah, like when I tried to get Asmo that limited-edition makeup. He didn’t wanna camp out, so I did it for em'. The line was insane, so I... mighta found a way in. Long story short, I got caught, banned from the store, and couldn’t even afford the resold ones. He didn’t get it ‘cause I screwed up.

Therapist (softly): Do you think things like that would happen if you were still an angel?

Mammon (quietly): Maybe... but the old me wouldn’t’ve stopped ‘til I got it for him. No matter what.

Therapist: How does this tie back to Lucifer?

Mammon (voice hardening, anger creeping in): He’s the reason I’m not the old me anymore. Sure, I chose to trust him when we fell, even when I doubted him. But now, when I see myself in the mirror... in my demon form... I can’t stop thinkin’ about how beautiful my wings used to be. Or how my brothers looked the day we fell—cryin’, changin’, thinkin’ we’d lost Lilith forever.

Therapist (gently): Thinking?

Mammon (smirking, but it doesn’t reach his eyes): Yeah. Lucifer doesn’t know, I know, but I overheard him and Diavolo. She didn’t die—she became human.

Therapist (curious): Have you ever thought about telling Lucifer you know?

Mammon (frowning, shaking his head): Nah. He wouldn’t like it, and I don’t wanna end up like Satan.

Therapist (concerned): Are you afraid Lucifer would hurt you?

Mammon (voice lowering, fists clenching): You didn’t see him. The way he looked at Satan, like he was some enemy—not family. It was... cold. If he could do that to one of us once, what’s stoppin’ him from doin’ it again?

Therapist: Do you think he will?

Mammon (after a long silence, voice steady): Yeah. And when he does... I’ll be ready.

Therapist (watching him closely): Ready how?

Mammon (leaning forward, voice ice-cold): Last time, I was scared. I tried protectin’ Satan by throwin’ myself over him, but it wasn’t enough. If Lucifer hurts one of my brothers like that again... I’ll kill him. No hesitation...

Therapist (gently but firmly): Do you really think killing your own brother is the answer?

Mammon (gritting his teeth): If I could fight against my brothers and sisters in the Celestial Realm, I can do it here too. I’d lose, sure, but I’d do whatever it takes to protect my family. Even if it costs me everything.

A/n: I wanted to show how Mammon tries to mask his feelings at first, playing things off and acting playful—until the conversation turns serious. Unlike Lucifer, who’s cold and standoffish with the therapist, Mammon’s emotions slip through once they start talking about what happened. He also truly believes he might have to face Lucifer one day, and even knowing how difficult it would be, but he’d do anything to protect his family. Next up is Levi, then Lucifer—I’ve already got them written! Hope you enjoy!

[the-cxlt]

Group Therapy

It’s 6:55pm.

You walk into the room for the first time. It’s an all girl group, your counselor told you you’d be more comfortable in that type of setting. It’ll be a 2 hour session, which seems a bit long, but since seeing this new counselor you’ve always taken their advice.

The room is set up with chairs in a circle, “AA style” you think to yourself amusingly. There are 6 chairs in total, 3 of which have girls already in them and one where your counselor is seated. You realize another girl is behind you, presumably the last one, when your counselor calls out calmly, “That’s everyone Livvie, go ahead and close that door behind you,” and you hear the click of the door.

You suddenly feel something you’ve noticed a bit over the last week, since around the time you last saw your counselor. Almost like a… weakness… between your legs. It’s not a bad feeling at all, it feels amazing in fact, it’s just you’ve been feeling them at such random times lately is all. ‘This is probably not the best time’ you think to yourself. You decide to fight it off, as you mostly have this week, and you manage to let it pass.

You choose the seat directly across from your counselor, to your right are a pretty red haired girl and the girl he called Livvie, who sat down just after you. To your left are two equally pretty girls, both darker haired. As pretty as everyone is, you can’t help but think that Livvie is particularly pretty though. She is exactly your type. Something about her almost has you in a daze…

—“Hey everyone, looks like we’re all here now, we may as well get started! You all know me, I’m your ‘counselor’, but you all know to just call me Q.” Q starts, jolting you up from the day-dream state you got yourself in while admiring Livvie. “So we have two new faces here today, but the rest of you girls have done this a few times now, isn’t that right?” Your counselor pauses for a second and turns to Livvie, then to the dark haired girls, smiling warmly at them. You can’t help but notice how all their faces light up when they make eye contact, and how the girls nod excitedly. In fact, they’re almost shaking in their seats…

It’s 7:00pm.

Q asks the girls who had been to the group therapy before to tell ‘the two newbies’, as you and the red haired girl are called, about themselves, and how they’ve been feeling lately after doing these group sessions. Livvie starts. She talks very happily and confidently about how ‘ever since this group she has been feeling a million times better’, and it really did look that way. She looked happy, she was beautiful, she was sexy.

You couldn’t help but think it… you were sitting there pretty much drooling over her… You realize, just as she did before Q spoke, that something about her has almost put you into a trance.

You again snap out of it, and you try to casually wipe the corner of your mouth, feeling somewhat worried you may have actually had a pool of drool at the corner of your lips. There was no drool, “thankfully” you think to yourself briefly, “that would’ve been so embarrassing…”

The truth is though, sitting amongst all these pretty girls you do feel a bit embarrassed, you feel you may have looked silly. Suddenly, again, you get that pang of weakness between your legs.

“Woah, I’m really in my head right now” you think to yourself. It almost feels like you’re high. You realize you’ve drifted off into space again… but somehow… this time… you’re not snapping out of it. You’re aware of your surroundings, in fact you’re still looking at Livvie, but you almost feel… disconnected… from your own body.

It’s 7:05pm

As if you were in a dream, you’re watching yourself and the scene around you. You feel no panic though, in fact you feel really good. Really, really good. You can’t deny it at all, you’re horny. Very horny… This time, you do feel a drip of drool, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed again.

This somehow turns you on even more. “Fuck, this feels incredible… why is being embarrassed turning me on so much?” You don’t move to wipe away the drool this time, you just let it happen. Something about letting it happen feels so good.

“Are we all out?” Q asks aloud while standing up. Your counselor is smiling, almost laughing. You don’t respond, and neither does anyone else, as you dreamily look at the other girls. You notice that each one of them has a tiny stream of drool dripping from their mouths as well…

“You did so good, Livvie” Q starts again, pulling something out of a pocket, but you can’t quite tell what it is. “A little gift for you all to start…”

‘Click’.

That pang of weakness… of pleasure… you feel so fucking good. You are in your mind, but you’re still seeing the room. The three girls who’ve been here before are all sitting in their chairs… and they’re rubbing themselves between their legs above their clothes uncontrollably.

Q walks to each of them, and carresses their tits along the way, “Remember girls, this is how we start. After the count of 3, remind yourselves and say ‘We start by edging above our clothes’…

1…

2…

3…”

In near perfect unison Livvie and the dark haired girls repeat it back perfectly. They’re continuing to rub themselves as they do. You notice that Livvie has made a visible wet spot on the light coloured pants she’s wearing…

You and the red haired girl, the ‘newbies’ are clearly feeling similarly. Both of you have your hands squeezing your inner thighs. It’s almost like you can communicate with her and you’re both saying “I want to touch myself so bad, but some instinct deep within me is holding me back.”

As you’re thinking it to yourself Q has approached the red haired girl. Q’s hand gently pries one of hers from her thighs and places it directly between her legs instead. “Give in” you can hear the whisper across the room, “Rub above your clothes… edge…”

The red haired girl has in fact given in, in no time at all. Q is groping her tits while everyone else watches. She is rubbing her fingers all around her pussy above her tights. Livvie has begun to moan quietly, and the dark haired girls and breathing heavy too. You are the only girl in the room who is not rubbing herself. You desperately want to, but what’s left of your mind is also trying to fight it.

It’s 7:10pm

Q has approached you, smiling. “Hey, sweetheart,” while looking down at you. You haven’t been touched yet, but your body is screaming for it. “We’re going to make a special example out of you tonight…”

Q pulls something else from the other pocket, it appears to be a sort watch on a chain. There’s a symbol on it, and you realize something… it’s the same symbol that is on the shirt that Livvie is currently wearing…

“Stationary, this here has it’s affects. Especially after many weeks of one on one sessions...” Q is holding the symbol directly in front of your face. “But once it swings… it puts you into a whole different state…” and it begins to sway back and forth in front of your eyes. You’re being put into a state of no shame, the girls who’ve been here before know that, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You don’t want to do anything about it. You want to give in.

You feel the other girls eyes on you. You can see they’ve all made visible wet spots, they’re completely soaking, and they’re watching you get deeply hypnotized.

Your dream like view takes over, and you’re now only watching like a spectator. Q has stopped swaying the symbol, and is now wiping the drool from your face, while smiling again. You feel the touch and the way your body flutters from it, but otherwise you realize that you no longer have any control of yourself.

You’re told “Stand up.” You can see yourself standing, with your arms now at your side. Q moves behind you and grabs one of your hands, and places it firmly between your legs, with your index finger directly on your clit.

“We start by edging above our clothes,” Q says aloud, near your ear, grabbing your hand and forcing it to rub yourself. Then backs away, letting you continue to do it yourself, once you instinctively understand, and happily give in. “You’ll all repeat it after the count of 3… Newbies too, of course…

1…

2…

3…”

You see yourself say it aloud, in near perfect unison with all four other girls. You’re standing and rubbing yourself as they all watch you. Even as a spectator, you can still feel your wetness. It’s dripping down your legs…

“Again… tell me how we start. After 3…

1…

2…

3…

“We start by edging above our clothes” you all say in perfect unison.

It’s 7:15pm

10 minutes of being out while edging has the 3 girls a complete mess. You can actually hear how wet Livvie is when Q walks towards her, spreads her legs apart a little wider, and gently taps on the wet spot she’s made. “What a good girl,” Q whispers to her.

You and the red haired girl are also soaked, even though you’ve been edging for slightly less time. Q sits back down and is now facing you, looking you directly in the eye as you stand about 6 feet away.

“Stop rubbing, for a moment, and remove your top.” Is what Q says to you. “I will tell you when to start rubbing again.”

The deep instinct that was holding you back before has completely faded, and it’s been replaced with an urge, a primal need, to simply do as you’re told. You watch yourself pause from rubbing, and you immediately shift to removing your top. Your eyes are locked on Q’s as you mindlessly obey.

“Now remove the bra.” Q instructs. Somewhere internally you recognize that you’ll be fully topless in front of these 4 pretty girls. The cycle of humiliation and horniness hits again, it reinforces your mindlessness, your pleasure… You’re now watching yourself expose your tits to everyone.

You’re watching Livvie out of the corner of your eye shake in her seat as you stand there half naked. It’s so clear to you how desperately she wants to cum. She’s looking at your tits, and continuing to rub herself silly.

“Livvie, tell everyone what comes after edging above your clothes.” Q says, while still not breaking eye contact with you.

“Tits out… After we edge, we take our… tits out…” Livvie is somewhat drooling as she says it. She looks stupid, but she’s so clearly happy and horny and feeling good. Seeing her like that turns you on too. ‘I want to be like that’ you think cloudily before looking once again at yourself topless and exposed, and realizing “I am like that…”. That makes you smile more. And, you’re drooling again…

It’s 7:20pm

“Tits out. That’s right Livvie…” placing a hand on her inner thigh and rubbing it, almost lovingly, “Just like our newbie here (pointing at you, with the other hand), you will all take your Tits Out. After 3 you will begin removing your tops. You will remove your bras, too. You will all have your tits out…

Before the count Q looks at you, “…and you will pinch and twist your own nipples while watching the other girls get their tits out…

1…

2…

3…

You’re standing there, groping your own tits, watching the girls all strip around you. Treating your tits like that is driving you wild, you can feel yourself dripping even more down your inner thighs. You’re watching Livvie in particular, of course. To your satisfaction, her tits are amazing, and you realize she even has the same symbol tattooed on her chest.

You’re all now fully topless in the room. You’ve all scanned each others body countless times. None of you have the brainpower at the moment to do anything about it otherwise. You all want it, you all crave it.

You’re still mindlessly groping your tits as Q stands up again, and walks to you, whispering “You’re doing so good..” then, louder for everyone to hear, “Now after 3 all of you begin rubbing and squeezing just as she (Q’s hand is on your back) is now… pinch your nipples, twist them too, make it hurt a little… enjoy it, girls…

1…

2…

3!…”

And of course, all the girls begin groping themselves just as you have been. Livvie is consistently moaning now, as is the red haired girl. The dark haired girls both moan more sporadically, as do you. You can’t help it, it feels too good.

It’s 7:25pm

“Fuck, I might cum…” you think to yourself as you watch yourself abuse your own tits, and listen to even your moans grow louder. Suddenly, before you’re able to get there, Q cuts in sharply instructing, “Hands off your tits. Remove the rest of your clothes. 1... 2... 3!”

It’s so abrupt that it forces the edge for you. Hearing the counting trigger is all it takes for you to mindlessly obey. And before you can do anything about it, your hands have moved to unzipping your pants, and eagerly sliding off both the pants and panties.

You’re trembling and catching your breath after edging that hard. You would have never imagined that you’d be able to crave cumming so bad like that just from be rough with your own tits.

You now find yourself standing completely naked inside the circle of chairs. Your arms have dropped to their sides, there’s nothing for you to do but enjoying the feeling and await your next instructions. You feel so happy, so humiliated, so mindlessly in pleasure. You see the other girls around you, seated, but also now completely naked.

Your eyes dart to each of their pussies. Each of them are sitting back in the chairs comfortably, with their legs only slightly spread. You realize, however, that you’re all looking at each other’s pussies. It’s instinctive, none of you can help it. You love seeing them exposed, and you love being exposed for them.

“Seated girls slide to the edge of your chairs and spread your legs wide. And you (directed at you), drop onto your hands and knees. 1!.. 2!.. 3!”

Down to your knees you watch your naked body go. You find yourself on all fours, facing your counselor still, awaiting Q’s eyes to find you again, while still watching the girls around you slide downward on their chairs and spread their legs wide. All of their pussies are now about level with where your face is. You’re drooling, again.

It’s 7:30pm

Q opens a box that’s been under a chair, you’ve clearly been too mindless to even notice it. Your counselor is now holding a collar in one hand, and a leash in the other. Once again the two of you have locked eyes directly and you listen devotionally while receiving your next instructions.

“When you wear this collar you will act like a silly, happy pet. You will crawl on all fours, and you will wiggle your ass when you’re excited… 1… 2…”, the collar is slipped around your throat while you remain in position on your hands and knees, “3…”

The click of your new collar causes your body to tremble. You watch yourself move your ass back and forth… you’re immediately wiggling. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, and you have what feels like an insatiable urge for even more pleasure. You crave cumming. You would do anything you’re told. You will do anything you’re told.

You desperately want to do anything you’re told. It just feels so good… you need to obey.

You’re on your hands and knees, your own pussy juices now covering your thighs, and you’re shaking your ass. Your tongue has slipped out of your mouth, and you’re looking up at Q as the leash is clipped onto the collar.

Q pulls you forward. You see and feel yourself crawling across the floor. Slowly… one hand forward, then one knee… then the other hand forward, followed by your other knee. You’re being led across the circle… straight towards Livvie.

Drool drips from your tongue as Livvie’s pussy inches closer to your face, and your own pussy pounds with excitement. Q crouches down next to you, still holding onto the leash, and grabs your chin to turn your head back and forth. At one moment you’re looking at Livvie’s drenched pussy, the next you’re lost deep in Q’s eyes.

Around you all the girls are still catching their breath after the amount of edging they’ve been mindlessly doing, you can see all of their pussies convulsing. Each one of them desperate to cum…

“After 3 you will lick… and kiss… and suck… and tongue-fuck Livvie’s pussy. You will make love to her soaked hole. It will be the best thing you have ever tasted. You will make her cum. And Livvie, you will cum on her face.

1…

2…

3…”

It’s 7:35pm

Livvie is not only moaning, she’s screaming. You watch yourself, still naked on your hands and knees, with your mouth all over her pussy. You’ve come to find out that Livvie is a squirter, and she’s let out several waves of mess in your mouth, down your chin, and all over your tits. You haven’t stopped, it feels too good to stop, not like you have control of it anyways.

Q has been going around the circle whispering into each of the girls ears. You can see that they’re all watching you and Livvie, and clearly they’ve been allowed to play by using their fingers. The dark haired girls have been told to finger each other, and you watch from the corner of your eye as their fingers go in and out of each other. Creamy wetness leaking from each of their holes, quite literally dripping onto the floor.

The red haired girl has slid down off her chair, as per whatever instruction she was given, and is now laying on her back on the floor using her own fingers to get herself off as well. Everyone is moaning, yourself included, as you continue to make love to Livvie’s pussy and take face fulls of her squirt, but no one is louder than Livvie.

Q suddenly announces to the group that everyone is to get into the same position as you on the floor. You all stop what you’re doing and take position. You’re all shaking.

Everyone is directed to crawl, as you had just done towards Livvie. You’re each told to find the pussy of a specific girl, and to “stick your tongue as deep as you can into it… 1…2…3!…” You find yourselves stupidly crawling, desperate to find the pussy selected for you next.

You watch yourself find the the red haired girl’s ass, which you immediately bury your face into. You stick your tongue into her pussy, you feel humiliated, dirty and it turns you on so much.

You’ve all managed to create a sort of circle in the center of the chairs, and now that you’re all in position, you stay as still as you can with your tongues as deep in each others pussies.

“Now, tongue-fuck. 1… 2… 3!…” is the immediate next instruction, and you all begin bobbing your heads back and forth. The red haired girl tastes just as good as Livvie you can’t help but sense, and you salivate more while tongue fucking her.

Q stands near the circle, with the clicking device now in hand again, and begins pressing it. Over… and over… and over… and over…

‘Click’

‘Click’

‘Click’

‘Click’

‘Click’

Q loudly demands, “Cum!, girls, CUM! 1.. 2.. 3!…” and continues to click the device repeatedly. You watch yourselves relentlessly tonguing each other while you all moan uncontrollably, yet again.

The red haired girl’s pussy is so tight, you can actually feel as her pussy squeezes and she cums on your tongue. You feel your own pussy squeezing and climaxing, as you have a multiple orgasms thanks to Livvie’s tongue. In fact, you’re all cumming on each others tongues… it feels like it’s too much for your body to handle, yet none of you are stopping. None of you are able to stop.

It’s 7:40pm

(to be continued…)

[cervvsq]

bandages.

inspired by ‘fate is cruel’ by @slaymitchabernathy !

summary: issues between you and coriolanus cause a failed suicide attempt to occur.

WARNINGS: suicidal thoughts, major mental heath issues, sharp objects, self harm, silent treatment, manipulation, abuse, speaks about sex but no actual smut, reader is described as his “dumb, little wife”, reader always forgives him, lots of angst today :(

no use of y/n // no name for reader.

masterlist

“…yes, and, no sharp objects around her for a good while…”

“…when the time is right, she may be able to leave the mansion. until then…”

“…take me for a fool, festus? of course i’ve made sure no one finds out about this. it’s already been a great embarrassment between me and those who know.”

the hushed voices of your husband and his colleagues through his large oak door made your heart sink. whether it was out of shame, pain, or anger was beyond you.

pulling the sleeves of your silky nightgown over your wrists, you took one last deep breath and knocked once on the door. like always, it was small. gentle. that’s who you were perceived as anyway. surprisingly, it was hard to be confident and loud when you were married to the most powerful man in panem — especially around his associates. being anything other than the perfect capitol lady was a disgrace to society.

whatever conversation they were having shut down immediately, a few throats clearing as coriolanus’ deep voice gave you permission to walk in. you ignored the uneasy thrill of your heart racing when all eyes of older men were on you, in a small yet beautiful nightgown, usually only for your husbands eyes in your home house. it was strange for him to have this many people here at this time, even in the president’s office.

but many things were strange lately. ever since—

“darling?” that familiar voice ripped you out of your thoughts, and you nearly sunk into the floor when the look on the men’s faces had suddenly switched to pity. blinking a few times, you perked your head up to listen.

“i asked if you were alright.” he smiled gently.

“of course. my apologies for the interruption — i hadn’t realised you were busy.” you lifted a delicate hand to brush your luscious hair from your freshly-washed face. this small act caused your loose sleeve to slip from your wrist, causing everyone’s eyes to rip away from you faster than they looked.

apart from your husband’s.

his chiseled jaw clenched for a moment, staring intensely. realising your mistake, you immediately dropped your hand, eyes locking on the floor. suddenly, it felt like you were 5 years old getting scolded in front of your father’s friends.

feeling your whole body suddenly become boiling hot from embarrassment, you refrained the urge to run out the room.

“it’s no bother. what do you need?” you couldn’t even answer before the sound of your husband’s chair scraping across the floor rang in your ears, telling you everything you needed to know. his hand was on your cheek, coaxing you to look up at him. once you complied, he leaned forward, lips by your ear. you avoided looking at all these unknown faces whilst coriolanus murmured words out of earshot to anyone but you.

“give me twenty minutes for me to sort some things, and i’m all yours, i promise. you need rest, i’ll get someone to escort you back to our room.” his words were meant to be reassuring, but they only made you feel sick. you didn’t need someone to escort you to another room in your own fucking house.

biting back the tempting dare to shout, ‘i’m not a fucking child!’ in his face, you simply gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, letting him kiss you on the cheek. he guided you back to the grand oak doors of his office, hand on your lower back for only a few moments before he shut the door as soon as you stepped out.

ᥫ᭡

silent tears felt like knifes as they slid down your angelic face.

with shaky hands, you pulled your sleeve down.

it took all your strength not to scream and bawl at the sight you had to face every night and morning now.

the bandages.

layers of thin, white, woven cotton wrapped around your dainty wrists, a harsh contrast to your smooth skin. the reminder of what you had done haunted you every second of every day.

but it wasn’t the concealment of your wrist that tormented you. it was what held beneath it that really made you crawl. not just the slash — but the memory of that night.

ᥫ᭡

3 weeks earlier…

“…just once, just once, maybe i thought you could be an adult. to be a proper wife, but you can’t even do that. no, really, what can you fucking do, hm?”

your eyes had gotten used to the familiar burn of your tears. the embarrassment grew every time. he always knew what to say to bring you to this state. sat at the end of your large shared bed, sobs strained your raspy throat, you squeezed your eyes shut to block out his harsh words.

it clearly was the end of the world to him, what you had done. you had “ruined your body,” he had spat earlier.

you couldn’t bear to look down at the 4 pink scars on each of your upper thighs. you were an idiot for thinking he wouldn’t notice. why wouldn’t he? after the arguments, after the name-calling, after the gaslighting, it was always the same. he fucked you all night, whispered pleasure-filled ‘apologies’ and left you to wake up to an empty bed and not see any sign of him until 7pm when he would return from work.

“your words really hurt me sometimes, coriolanus…” you choked out. he was so angry, veins bulging from his neck, hair a large contrast to how neat it usually is. he let out a bitter laugh. “my words?”

“do you know how silly your little act is?” he reached forward and grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look up at him. the tight grip he had on you didn’t match his sudden calm tone.

“this is what mentally unstable people do, darling. are you unstable? did i marry a crazy person?” he taunted, tilting his head patronisingly. it surely coaxed the reaction he wanted.

a few more tears fell down your flushed face, and you tried shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not crazy, coryo… i’m sorry, i won’t do it again!”

“oh, baby, don’t cry. i know you won’t. i’ll make sure of that.” his hand loosened in your hair, stroking it softly. his words settled you down a little more, oblivious of what was to come.

you lowered your head, leaning forward to press your forehead against his abdomen as he stood above you. still comprehending the whole situation, hectic hitches of your breath escaped your lips and shook your shoulders.

“you know i love you, my sweet girl. it pains me greatly that you’re this stupid sometimes.” his stinging words sounded gentle, so you didn’t pay any mind. you were just coriolanus’ dumb, little wife anyway.

when you didn’t respond, he pulled your hair again, eliciting a strangled mewl. “i know, i love you too..!” you cried out. he nodded, moving his hand down to your cheek.

“are you going to disappoint me again?” he took your chin firmly and shook your head left and right. satisfied, almost amused, a smirk curled on those lips. the same lips of his that can spew the most vile words, and all the more loving ones.

ᥫ᭡

the next morning

waking up, you felt light as a feather whilst the morning light poured through the tall curtains. like usual, coriolanus was probably already at work.

after a night of sex, promises, and praises, it seemed your husband had gotten over your self-harm silly mistake! oh, how clueless you were.

when you walked into your large closet, it felt like you had been shot.

it was all gone.

all your glamorous dresses, expensive shoes, beautiful jewellery.

empty. your side of the space you cherished the most in your house was completely desolate.

breaking down in tears, you ran into the bathroom to your vanity.

also barren.

the only thing displayed on your once packed beauty area was some moisturiser and a toothbrush.

after 10 minutes of crying your heart out on the bathroom floor, you got up and opened your bedroom door, determined to belt coryo’s workplace out until his secretary answered and put you on the phone to him.

two peacekeepers stepped in front of you. before you could open your mouth, one of them recited their orders.

“apologies, mrs snow. you may not leave this area. orders of president snow.”

you could punch one of these men right now.

raising your eyebrows, you gaped at his words. “excuse me? this is my own house!”

they shook their heads. “apologies, ma’am. orders of president snow.”

feeling your eyes begin stinging, you turned around, closing the door and collapsing onto the bed, curling up into a fetal position whilst you cried.

you were stuck here.

when the clock hit 8, you were still in the same position you were in when you laid down. never did any staff bring food, or drinks — so you kept yourself occupied with 2 things. cry. sleep. cry. sleep. not moving once.

not even when your husband’s voice was heard muffled outside the door, probably talking to the peacekeepers. or you. you didn’t care anymore.

the door opened. only a sigh was heard, followed by footsteps.

“sweetheart?” the name only caused your heart to clench. more so when a hand landed on your shoulder. you didn’t move. “what’s wrong?”

this caused your jaw to tighten and your eyes narrow. spinning around, tears already streamed down your cheeks.

“what’s wrong is you locked me in here! all day!” you shouted in his face. “and all of my belongings are gone! you took them from me! you’re fucking evil—!”

his caring act snapped, grabbing you by the neck and forcing you down onto the bed. the livid, animalistic look in his eye was something you’ll never forget. he breathed deeply, heavily, closing his eyes as if to calm himself down. lucky for him — barely any air could leave your lungs right now. but he made sure you heard him clearer than you could breathe.

“and clearly, you haven’t learned your lesson. just when i thought you couldn’t get more dense. get up.” he spat the last two words, releasing his large hand around your neck.

spluttering, you gasped a few times, standing up and wincing when he grabbed your wrist tightly. leading you down the hallway, he spoke as you tried to catch up.

“you told me last night it was my words that caused you to hurt yourself.” he scoffed, continuing to drag you along.

he stopped you both in front of a room you hadn’t even been in before, despite living here nearly a year now. “and the clothes, well, i can’t have my wife finding sly ways to slice up those pretty thighs.” he chuckled, as if this was funny at all.

you wearily eyed the door in front of you. “what are you doing?”

he sighed. “since my words affect you so much,” he mocked, “i figure it must come to me not speaking to you whatsoever. maybe that will put an end to these games you insist on playing.” he opened the door.

“enjoy your new room.”

ᥫ᭡

2 weeks later

“please, please, coriolanus! i’m sorry! please just talk to me!” you bawled, on your knees in front of him whilst he sat at his desk, skimming over some documents.

he paid you no mind.

no attention, not even a glance.

it didn’t matter how much you screamed, called him names, insulted him, whatever. he didn’t acknowledge you.

you were given dresses by maids whenever there was a dinner or gala you both needed to attend. even then he didn’t speak directly to you, only referring you in conversation with others when necessary.

sometimes you threw up from how much you weeped.

coriolanus was all you knew. despite his behaviour towards you at times, his affection and care fuelled you endlessly. no matter how many times he laid his hands on you, his praises, his touch, was like a million apologies. he broke you repeatedly, then healed you once more. you’d rather have him beat you up and take care of your bruises than this.

for 2 weeks now, he hadn’t laid eyes on you, never mind touched. if he wanted a message across about plans for the week, he got his staff to do it.

there were no more dinners, no more kisses, no more scolding, nothing.

you weren’t permitted out of your room once it hit 7pm. that was the rule all the way to 7am. it ensured you didn’t try to leave, is what the peacekeepers said. you had a feeling it was so you didn’t bother their dear president. the man who was meant to be your devoting husband.

your bathroom was empty apart from a toilet, mirror, toothpaste, and a brush. sure, the intricate design was luxurious, but every room in the presidential mansion had to be spot on. even if you were basically being kept prisoner in it.

the only clothes in your closet were pyjamas and slippers. any fancy clothing were brought to you when needed. you found yourself wondering if coriolanus picked out the dresses.

you were invisible.

so now, as you begged for the 3rd time today for him to give any sign he gave a shit about you, you felt yourself reaching your breaking point. it was his and the staff’s day off, you weren’t missing this opportunity to try fix things. it was going nowhere.

you didn’t even exist in your own house anymore.

standing up, you walked out, leaving his study door open. the tears once pouring down your rosy cheeks had stopped. you almost felt dizzy.

walking into the room which you and coryo once shared, you walked into your his bathroom. top left drawer. that’s where he always went to shave.

when you used to get ready for bed together.

when he would tease you about how seriously you took your skincare routine.

when he would come up behind you and place kisses on your neck.

when you would stand on your tip-toes to shave his face for him.

that felt like years ago.

and suddenly, before you could stop yourself, you were reaching for the spare blades in the packet, taking one out.

you were like a ghost to him now anyway. he was a ghost to you now, too. a ghost of who he was. who was he now? and where did he go?

too much. it was all too much.

with one smooth slash, the blade ran across your vein. just above your pulse. then the other. slash. it was only when the clatter of the blade dropped onto the marble floor, followed by droplets of pure red when the gravity of the situation settled.

what the fuck?

what did i do?

“what did you do?!” coriolanus yelled. his voice never sounded so urgent. turning your head, the last thing you felt was his hand slipping under you, lifting you up before you fainted.

ᥫ᭡

present time.

ever since then, it was like nothing happened. things went back to normal. well, not completely, of course.

it had been exactly a week and a half since the incident, and coryo had put many things in place to ensure your health and safety was protected.

his razors were now locked up.

all jewellery only he got for you, to make sure there were no sharp edges.

no access to the kitchen without any company.

your bandages were changed every other day.

you had to see a doctor every day to check and treat the deep wound.

but no amount of antibiotics and bandages could soothe the mental wounds.

only coriolanus could.

but all of these restricts set in place didn’t bother you. why? because you had gotten him back.

you had moved back into your shared bedroom.

most of your dresses were back.

he spoke to you gently.

he caressed you, he kissed you, he treated you like a porcelain doll.

there was no apology for practically locking you up. you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

after all, you got your coryo back.

even if all these precautions and pitying eyes from the very few people who know do tick you off at times, you would choose this life any day over the one you had when he was so vile to you.

finished crying, you stared at yourself in your vanity mirror. he kept his promise. the door opened, and his lips tugged into a smile when he saw you. walking over, he leaned down and kissed your cheek. “i’m sorry for their prying eyes. how are you feeling?”

you shook your head, dismissing his apology. you hated any references to your attempt. “i’m okay.” you smiled.

coriolanus intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you up from your vanity stool. “my sweet girl.” he murmured, leading you over to the bed.

you laid down, and he hovered above you, his arms wrapping around your small frame. “never do something like that again, please.” he spoke into your hair.

you held your breath.

“i won’t.” you whispered. so delicate, so pure.

shame it was a lie.

as much as you didn’t like lying to him, you couldn’t help it. telling the truth would only make things complicated.

but it was true. you’d do it again and again if it meant you could have this coryo forever. and you’ll be sure to prove it if he ever dared to change again.

ᥫ᭡

oneshot! i have no idea what this was supposed to be <3

[forever-141]

A Push In The Right Direction.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X FemReader (Mentions of John MacTavish)

TW: Some Angst. Mentions of Johnny’s passing.

(This is my first post. Work was boring and I’m pretty sure my time of the month is coming. Not sure where the thought came from and I’m 100% positive there are more like this but my brain was in overdrive today and needed to do something.)

They all knew who you were. Johnny’s pretty little bird they called you. Soft, curvy, and always so lovely whenever he brought you around for functions or random get togethers with the team. It had been no surprise to them when he showed up at the last dinner he shared with them, preening about how you had said yes when he asked you to marry him a few days ago, forcing you to flash the ring he had slipped onto your finger to everyone.

Life seemed to be going in the right direction. At least for a little while anyways. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to be the one to tell you that Johnny passed away on their last mission. Simon stood at your door, arms never feeling heavier than at that moment.

He could still recall the scream that left your throat when he told you and handed you his dog tags. Simon knew the tags should have gone to his family, but deep down, he needed you to have them. That scream, and the sight of you clutching your chest while trying to keep yourself upright by holding onto the door was a sight that haunted him, both awake and in his nightmares.

After Johnny’s passing, you had disappeared. Simon knew it was for the best. He couldn’t possibly know what it was like to lose the one person you thought you were gonna spend the rest of your life with, but if he did, he’d disappear to.

Almost 2 years had passed since it all happened. Simon had spent a good majority of that time keeping his head afloat. He had been going to therapy because Price had mentioned it would be a good thing for him. Which prompted him to take some time away from his job, from what he called, the normal.

His last therapy session had turned into a conversation of “wanting to get away for a bit” and that’s exactly what he had done. He had heard that Johnny’s family had given him a spot in their cemetery plot, no body, just a simple marble header with his name, the day he was born, and the day he passed, the usual.

That’s how he found himself walking into an unfamiliar area, rows of rock, marble and other memorable works of art that left small bits of information about those who were buried here. The only thing in his hand was the black balaclava with the white skull markings he always used to wear. “Somethin’ to leave on Johnny’s grave,” he had kept telling himself.

Simon had been able to get a hold of one of Johnny’s sisters, asking for the location of where they placed his header. As his feet took him further, he could feel himself getting heavier and heavier with each step. But those steps stopped the moment he found what he was looking for.

It was like all air had left his lungs the moment Johnny’s gravestone came into view. But it wasn’t because he had finally made it, no. It was because his gaze landed on something he never thought he’d see again. Something that made his entire world flip upside down.

You.

He stared at your standing form, eyes glued to the marble piece in front of you as you spoke to Johnny like he was there. Simon was about to move in when you shifted just enough that he caught a glimpse of a young child cuddling against you in your arms.

Simon’s eyes landed on the small human who was staring back at him. Johnny’s eyes, piercingly bright blues, stared back at him. A small babble of happiness spewed from the young boys mouth which caused you to turn and come face to face with someone you thought you’d never see again.

“S-Simon?” You stuttered out, your eyes wide as the large brooding figure just stood there, unable to rip his gaze away from you or the little one clinging to the collar of your sweater. You could see the gears turning inside of his head.

“Is…is that..” He couldn’t even get the words out that he wanted to say. His legs forced him closer, closing the distance between your frame and his. “Johnny’s?” He finally croaked out. His gaze followed the slow nodding of your head before turning back to look at the little boy.

His heart was beating like a drum behind his ribcage, hands all of a sudden had become sweaty as his grip on the balaclava tightened. You were scared for a moment at the sudden switch in his demeanour, but it quickly went away when his arms encircled your shoulders, pulling you in for a tight hug, being careful not to squeeze the boy in your arms.

Simon wasn’t even sure why he was holding you, but there was a small voice in the back of his head telling him he needed to. “You didn’t tell anyone,” he had finally said, his voice straining to keep the emotions at bay. “I couldn’t,” you remarked in a whisper, “please understand why.”

Letting go of you, Simon side stepped around you and gently laid the balaclava over the curve of his gravestone, smoothing out the fabric. “Let me help take care of you.” The statement caught you off guard and as you went to say something, he stopped you by raising a hand.

“Just let me do this, for Johnny, for you, and for...” he continued, motioning a hand to the little one who was the spitting image of his father. “Please.” You could see the turmoil in his eyes. He had to do this, not for Johnny, but for himself.

“Okay,” you replied softly, your lips curving up into a warm smile. “John,” you said suddenly, your eyes still locked on the large dark ones that were still on yours, “His name is John.”

[milla-frenchy]

One of my favorite Javi p series, with my favorite Javi p gif EVER? 🫠🫠🫠👌

Emily, you know how much these two mean to me. How Birthday present left a mark in my heart, how photocopies rushed into this same mark, and now this one???

Thank you thank you thank you for writing more of them 👌🤌

The bounce of your hair, held back prettily by silver hair clips he gifted, floats your fragrant shampoo behind you and Javier inhales it greedily – the sweet smell instantly transporting him back to when he would breathe it fresh from its source; nose buried your hair as you curled up, sated in his arms - your naked body still warm from the shower entangling with his in the once crisp, now damp sheets of your shared bed.

She's wearing his clips!!! The smell reminds him such sweet memories 🥹🥹🥹

A good man would leave you alone, not invent the flimsiest of excuses to walk past the window next to your desk every chance he got just to catch a glimpse of you.  A good man wouldn’t try to time his arrival at work to coincide with yours, marking the time he shares your same air in the elevator as the most blissful thirty seconds of his day.

I disagree firmly, Javi 😌

Too many hours later after the briefing finally concludes, Javier purposefully takes the long way back from the conference room to the DEA’s office so he can walk by your department.  He’s checking his watch after noticing that your desk sits empty, your belongings gone

Javi realizing she's not in her office 👇😁

(dear lord he's so beautiful)

Without even thinking, Javier breaks out into a sprint so he can slip into your elevator just as the doors start to close.  The elevator is packed with embassy staff eager to leave work; though the DEA agent cannot see you, he can feel you.  Javier’s shoulders sag in relief just to be this close to you again.

Awwww 🥹🥹🥹

Your actual resolutions for the new year are for you and you alone: To break though to Javier Peña and make him confess the truth to you.

Screaming!!!!!! Yes you go girl!!!!

After your run in with Javi in the photocopier room a month ago, you had forced yourself to push past the hurt of having his betrayal thrown in your face and sat down to really contemplate the interaction.  His soft confessions, vulnerable and pure, were so reminiscent of the Javi you had loved – the man who had so much compassion and empathy in that hidden heart of his that whenever he felt safe enough to lay it bare, it couldn’t help but overflow.  Further tearing down your already crumbling walls was the memory of his kisses - they had melted you near instantly, your own lips as desperate and wanting as his to be reunited.  And his eyes - the look in Javi's eyes that day had threatened to drown you with the intensity of devotion and love that you saw storming within. For a brief moment, your Javi had returned to you. 

Loved all of this so much. I love them so much, damn

And then you think back to your birthday and the thoughtful, considerate gift he wanted you to have but never took the credit for.  So characteristic of the man to give and give, never taking anything for himself.

Omg do I love this. I LOVE when Javi is a giver, and you describe this side of him so perfectly ❤️❤️

You wear the clothes he loved best and always, always the silver bird barrettes he gifted you in your hair.  You’re generous with the perfume and shampoo you know he associated with your signature scent and waft by him as often as you can.  Today, for example, you could have easily left the analysis on the Ambassador’s desk, but you knew he could be found in a DEA debrief, so you went there directly instead.

Oh please that's so cute

Your heart sings affectionately in your chest. I’m going to keep reminding you of me so you don’t forget, you promise silently.  Come back to me and tell me the truth, please, Javi.

I loved reading their emotions, loved learning more, OMG??? Javi baby, you deserve to be loved, stop ruining everything 😭😭😭

I love that she noticed his moves, but pretend she didn't

This is absolutely perfect, thank you so much for this new gift 🥹❤️🫶

Always Tomorrow

1.8K / Javier Pena x fem!reader

Summary: Javier chooses an impossible new year's resolution.

Warnings: Longing, pining. Allusion to past relationship. Cigarettes.

A/N: A quick one for the same couple from Birthday Present and Photocopies; written for @beefrobeefcal's New Year, Same Pena challenge. Can be read as standalone, but if you follow them, this takes place ~a month after Photocopies (includes a few references to what happened in that instalment); there's a clue in here re: the truth about what happened if you squint, and if you squint a little less, some hope.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘/ Should I make this an official series/collection and make a masterlist?

“So, you fellas make any new year’s resolutions?”

The Ambassador’s seemingly innocuous question slices through the curls of smoke swirling upwards from the overflowing ashtray in the centre of the conference table and causes Javier to stiffen.

“To put the lid down on the toilet.  Connie’s request,” quips Steve.  The joke is a bit too juvenile and lighthearted for the serious nature of today’s debrief on Search Bloc’s updated strategy for the new year – both Murphy and Crosby’s resulting laughter is superficial, perfunctory.  Javier remains silent, pensive – preoccupied by both the myriads of tactical plans and diagrams spread across the table and his own answer.

“What about you, Agent Peña?”

He wants to glare at the older man.  Spit out his new year’s resolutions with the same soul-eroding venom it took to make them in the first place and watch as the Chief of Mission absorbed the acidity behind their meaning:

To stop being such a creep and stay away from you.

Even now in this very moment, Javier’s failing at his resolve; covetous eyes instinctively drawn to the hypnotic sway of your hips in that dress of yours that always made his heart skip - you’ve appeared out of nowhere, as if Javier’s very thoughts conjured you. He only wishes he held such a power.

Sauntering into the boardroom, your graceful but decisive steps bring you straight to the Ambassador, to whom you hand a folder and whisper your purpose.  Does Javier unwittingly lick his lips at the sight of your plush pout fluttering open and closed?  Only Murphy notices.  Is Agent Peña imagining how the warmth of your sweet breath might feel on his neck if he were on the receiving end of your quiet words?  He is.  The ever present regret in his heart reminds him that there was a time when he didn’t have to imagine.

He's jolted out of his daze when you brush past him and Steve with a professional but friendly, Agent to each man.  Even the curt moniker sounds like a song in your angelic voice - Javier closes his eyes, an attempt to slow down time and soak in your melody a little longer.

The bounce of your hair, held back prettily by silver hair clips he gifted, floats your fragrant shampoo behind you and Javier inhales it greedily – the sweet smell instantly transporting him back to when he would breathe it fresh from its source; nose buried your hair as you curled up, sated in his arms - your naked body still warm from the shower entangling with his in the once crisp, now damp sheets of your shared bed.

“Peña?”

Mierda. So much for not being a creep.

“My new year’s resolution?  To catch Escobar.”

“Good man,” a supportive palm is clasped onto Javier’s shoulder as the Ambassador turns back towards the paperwork on the table.

Yeah right.  A good man would leave you alone, not invent the flimsiest of excuses to walk past the window next to your desk every chance he got just to catch a glimpse of you.  A good man wouldn’t try to time his arrival at work to coincide with yours, marking the time he shares your same air in the elevator as the most blissful thirty seconds of his day.

Well, I’m not a good man, concedes Javier, but I am NOT a quitter either.

Too many hours later after the briefing finally concludes, Javier purposefully takes the long way back from the conference room to the DEA’s office so he can walk by your department.  He’s checking his watch after noticing that your desk sits empty, your belongings gone, when he spies the pretty shape of you disappear down the hall and around the corner towards the elevators.

Without even thinking, Javier breaks out into a sprint so he can slip into your elevator just as the doors start to close.  The elevator is packed with embassy staff eager to leave work; though the DEA agent cannot see you, he can feel you.  Javier’s shoulders sag in relief just to be this close to you again.

When he exits on the main floor, Javier walks swiftly towards the front doors – pretending that going out for a cigarette had been his intention all along.  He’s just lighting up when you fly past him and down the embassy steps towards your waiting car.  He adores you from behind - you're oblivious to him memorizing the curl of your fingers in the handle of the opening car door and the grace with which you slip in the backseat. Ever unaware of your admiring audience, the chime of your greeting to your driver rings loud and joyous even from where Javier stands.  For the second time today, Agent Peña closes his eyes to replay your voice in his mind – taking a deep drag of his cigarette as he does so; the twin high from having been in the vicinity of your being, your voice, your smell and the nicotine making him slightly lightheaded.

“Don’t most people quit cigarettes for their new year’s resolution, Peña?”

Opening his eyes, Javier sees one of his CIA counterparts standing next to him, chuckling as he himself pulls out his own pack.

“Nah.  I like a challenge for my resolutions,” Javier half jokes.

“Oh yeah?  How’s it going so far?”

Not sure if he’s happy or resigned at the truth, Javier confesses, “Failing miserably.”

“Well, there’s always tomorrow, buddy.”

“Yeah, always tomorrow,” agrees Javier, wistful - his softened eyes following your car as it leaves the embassy grounds.

You

When you walked into the big conference room to update Ambassador Crosby on the Columbian-US trade fluctuation analysis he had asked for, you weren’t at all offended that he didn’t include you in the new year’s resolutions conversation.  The man had already engaged you in what seemed to be his current go-to small talk topic earlier this morning over breakfast.

You had answered something believable about procrastinating less, improving your Spanish, to which he had approvingly nodded.

Your actual resolutions for the new year are for you and you alone:

To break though to Javier Peña and make him confess the truth to you.

After your run in with Javi in the photocopier room a month ago, you had forced yourself to push past the hurt of having his betrayal thrown in your face and sat down to really contemplate the interaction.  His soft confessions, vulnerable and pure, were so reminiscent of the Javi you had loved – the man who had so much compassion and empathy in that hidden heart of his that whenever he felt safe enough to lay it bare, it couldn’t help but overflow.  Further tearing down your already crumbling walls was the memory of his kisses - they had melted you near instantly, your own lips as desperate and wanting as his to be reunited.  And his eyes - the look in Javi's eyes that day had threatened to drown you with the intensity of devotion and love that you saw storming within.

For a brief moment, your Javi had returned to you. 

And then you think back to your birthday and the thoughtful, considerate gift he wanted you to have but never took the credit for.  So characteristic of the man to give and give, never taking anything for himself.

It had been the same when the two of you were together before.  You let yourself revisit the times you felt the safest, cherished, understood while you were in Columbia and they were all moments spent in the rough agent’s arms.  He had given you patience, kindness, and tenderness – his everything; not once did he demand anything in return, though Javi would never admit that he yearned for the same. You saw through his facade easily and showered him with your support, comfort, calm – all given freely and without reservation; and for that, he had loved you fiercely.  He had known you and you had known him, the real Javi beneath his gruff exterior armour.

Something he said that day in the photocopier room struck you as odd:

You deserve someone who can give you the best things in life.  You deserve someone better than me.

Those were not Javier Peña’s words.  After everything you had shared with him about your upbringing, your family and your complicated feelings about legacy and privilege, he would know that those words could never hold any weight with you.  Then why did he say it?  Whose words were they?  You don’t know but you think it’s the key to figuring out why Javi is pushing you away. 

After that horrible night when you ran from the heart shattering scene in his apartment, you became convinced that your relationship and the Javi you had fallen in love with had both been a lie.  A ruse to add you as another notch on Javier Peña’s already heavily laden belt.  But the thoughtfulness of his birthday gift and then the sincerity and emotion that radiated from him during your brief reunion last month had you reconsidering that premise.  Your Javi exists, you know it.  He’s in there, locked away, and you think he still loves you.  You think you still love him, too.

So, you decided you would draw him out. 

You pretend not to notice when he walks by the window next to your desk more than anyone could possibly need to, but make sure to be there as much as possible whenever he’s in the office.  You ask people to come to your desk instead of going to theirs whenever you're needed; you trouble the embassy catering staff to bring you coffee instead of going yourself to the breakroom.

You wear the clothes he loved best and always, always the silver bird barrettes he gifted you in your hair.  You’re generous with the perfume and shampoo you know he associated with your signature scent and waft by him as often as you can.  Today, for example, you could have easily left the analysis on the Ambassador’s desk, but you knew he could be found in a DEA debrief, so you went there directly instead.

You keep your schedule regular and your arrival and departure times punctual, allowing yourself to be easily found should Javi so choose.  Every morning you feel a little closer to victory when he seems to magically step into your same elevator.  At the end of today when he narrowly avoids being smushed by your closing elevator doors, you beam at the backs of the other embassy staff that stand between the two of you. 

Even as you flounce down the embassy steps past Agent Peña’s broad-shoulders, you feel his eyes - you don’t need to turn around to know that he’s watching and listening, and that thought alone warms you. 

Your heart sings affectionately in your chest. I’m going to keep reminding you of me so you don’t forget, you promise silently.  Come back to me and tell me the truth, please, Javi.

As your car pulls away from the curb, you driver engages you amiably, “So, Miss, how are your new year’s resolutions coming along?”

“Slow going,” you answer honestly, “but I am NOT a quitter.”

“Good for you! Just remember, there’s always tomorrow.”

“Right, always tomorrow,” you agree, feeling hopeful when you look back through the tinted rear window and see Javi’s puppy dog eyes following as you drive away.

Thank you all so much for your support of this Javi and his Pretty Bird, especially @milla-frenchy, without whom I may not have written any more of their story. 🥹🥹🥰 Tagging a few lovely people who left me kind words on Photocopies 😘😘: @greenwitchfromthewoods @axshadows @sunnytuliptime @joelmillerisapunk @professionalpromqueen

@ad23900 @galway-girlatwork @inept-the-magnificent @harriedandharassed @aurorawritestoescape

@desuidesu @littlemisspascal @jobean12-blog

[muhlsworld]

WHAT ARE WE?

synopsis: bumping into nika at that party did not go the way you expected.

WARNINGS: this is a part two to my previous fic, suggestive themes (no smut), cussing, italics are flashbacks, one use of y/n (sorry), yet again bad writing

it had been 3 weeks since the party. and you didn’t know why you did what you did. it was all such a blur.

“nika?” you asked.

she looked at you and her eyes went wide.

“y/n?” “what are you doing here?” nika asked in complete shock. you were in complete shock as well to even register her questions. your mind was in a frenzy. you couldn’t believe that she was in front of you. your nika. “are you okay?” nika asked, with what someone could confuse with genuine concern, again. and with that question something in you snapped.

“am i okay?” you repeated. “are you fucking kidding me nika?” you asked, your tone laced with anger and disbelief. nika looked at you wide eyed never hearing you speak to her like that.

“hey, are you ready for practice?” lily asked ripping you from your thoughts. lily had become somewhat of your rock these past few weeks. bonding during practice and spending most of your free time with her. although she doesn’t really know what happened that night or why you’ve been acting “off”.

“yeah. just need to grab my racquets.” you replied. “great, let’s get this practice over with so we can go eat.” lily said. you laughed slightly thinking how such a small girl could eat so much. “okay okay i’m going” you replied.

practice was over, it went okay. your shots weren’t as accurate as they normally are. your shots not having the normal amount of power. you weren’t surprised.. your mind was else where. the memory replaying through the whole practice.

“why nika?” you asked after her not answering you beforehand. she stayed silent yet again. your frustration bubbling every passing second. after a few moments of silence you grew tired of her not speaking. “fine i don’t need this right now nika. don’t bother talking to me” you exclaimed.

right as you were turning around to walk away back to your friends, you felt her grab your wrist. you turn around to tell her off but she cuts you off. “wait please, just let me explain” she sighs. “just not here.” she says and you look at her confused. but before you could say anything shes dragging you by the wrist throughout the frat house. “nika where the hell are you taking me” you asked her not wanting to be around her for any longer. without answering you she pulled you into an empty bedroom.

“look i know i have a lot to explain to you and i will just please hear me out” she pleaded. you look at her with a harsh look. a look you’ve never given her. fed up with everything about the night you say “you have 5 minutes muhl, better start talking.”

“i know what i did was wrong, just ghosting and completely cutting you out of my life like that. i regretted it every day. i still do” nika explained. there was something in her eyes that made it seem like she was telling the truth. but you just couldn’t believe her.

“then why nika?” you asked sounding more defeated this time. “did i really mean nothing to you, for you to cut me out like that.” all the emotion being evident in your voice. nikas heart was breaking at the sight that she caused. “i panicked.” nika answered. “what could have been so bad that you couldn’t tell your so call best friend.” you exclaimed. “you know i would’ve helped you through whatever it was.” you said while looking at her straight in the eyes. however she didn’t look at you, she was twiddling her thumbs around one another. something she used to do many years ago when she was nervous.

“because then i would’ve had to face my feelings for you.” nika whispered. almost quiet enough for you to not hear her.

almost.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts yet again but by your coach this time. “what’s going on kid?” he asked you. “you looked off out there today. is there something i should know about?” he asked immediately after the first question. “no i’m good coach.” you said with confidence.. or so you thought but he looked at you skeptically. “i’m just tired, i swear.” you said. and apparently that was convincing enough for him to leave you alone.

after that somewhat annoying conversation with your coach you opted to going to lunch with your teammates. you all had unanimously decided on chipotle, your guys favorite. you all enjoyed your meal talking about nonsense. and for a moment you felt back to normal. your normal without nika clouding your thoughts.

once your lunch was over every one had split up stating how they each had their own things to do for the rest of the day. you only had a self workout and some homework to finish for a class. so you went back to your dorm room, deciding to work out later on in the day.

the whole afternoon had gone by, it was around 8:30 pm, you were in your dorm finishing your homework. scratch that, you were trying to finish your homework. but a certain burnett kept sneaking back into your thoughts.

“your feelings for me?” you repeated almost sounding hopeful. “yes.” nika replied simply. “what do you mean?”you asked instantly. with a deep sigh nika replied “i loved you. and i didn’t know what to do with those feelings. so i did what i could and i ran from you.” you stared at her with a blank expression. your mind running at a thousand miles per minute. you stayed silent for a few minutes. the tension in the room growing. “please say someth-“ nika way saying until you cut her off, placing your lips on hers for a brief second. “you dumbass i loved you too” you stated like it was obvious.

and with those words it was like something switched within nika. she closed the distance between you two again but this time the kiss was more meaningful and deeper, you replied instantly kissing her back. but the kiss grew hungrier. you both grew hungrier for each other. your tongues dancing with each other and saliva mixing together.

nikas hands rested on your waist and you were getting impatient. so you removed your hands from around her neck and placed atop hers, slowly guiding them to your ass and slightly squeezing over her hands. you moaned softly into her mouth and that was music to her ears. she wanted to hear you even more. so with that she moved you two to the bed.

the sound of skin slapping together echoed throughout the whole room. both of you without a single worry in this moment. it was what you had always wanted with nika. your bodies tangled together.

you snap out of your own thoughts not wanting to relive the rest of the memory of that night.

since homework seemed to be out of the window. you decided to finally go do your workout. so with that you decided to get ready. it didn’t take you long to get ready, you opted for a simpler and comfier outfit. and with that you leave your dorm.

you make it to the gym and start your workout. with the music blasting in your ears you didn’t even hear someone walk into the gym. continuing to mind your own business you go on with your workout. but you feel someone staring at you so you take your headphones out and turn around. and that same feeling from years ago and the same one from the party hits you again.

there she is again. staring right at you.

you guys hadn’t talked about what happened that night. so you thought now would be a good a time as any. seeing as you two were alone. you walk up to her “hi.” you said. “hey” she replied coldly. you looked confused as you why she was being this way after what happened. but you let it slide as you were about to talk to her about it anyway.

right as you were about to speak the door to the gym opens and this guy walks in and starts approaching you guys. you were confused as ever, but what you didn’t see was nikas panicked face. he comes up right beside nika and places an arm around her waist and kisses her cheek. you were completely dumbfounded at what was going on. and then he spoke. “hey babe, did you start without me?” he asked.

and then it clicked. why you guys hadn’t spoken about what happened 3 weeks ago.

nika had a boyfriend.

and you had no idea.

A/N: okay so i really don’t know where im going with this or if im even making a part 3 to this but if you guys want it then ill post it.

[mommyslittlebird]

Still Her Favorite

Mean!Mommy!Wanda x Puppy!Reader

After a day of misbehaving, Wanda stays home from work to punish her puppy, and her best friend Natasha decides to join.

CW: Puppy stuff (collars, ears, tails, etc.), Reader has a penis, plugs, mentions of spanking as punishment, cock shame, humiliation, teasing, safe word discussion, ignoring as punishment, illusions of cheating, jealousy, haha Natasha’s dick is bigger than yours

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Once again not the fic I promised but I’m working on it. Listening something washed over me this afternoon.

A/N: I’m going to be honest, I super don’t love this. But perfectionism is a demon that kills my ability to create, and I’d rather publish a bad fic than lose a good one to the demons.

“Now what brings a precious little puppy like this into the office today?” Natasha asked, circling Wanda’s desk to find you at her feet.

“She was being terribly naughty at home alone, yesterday. Sometimes mommy’s long hours in the office have her thinking she can get away with certain things,” Wanda explained, making no move to look at you while she was talking about you. Her ignoring you was your least favorite punishment by far. You could handle the spankings, the teasing, the humiliation, even the denial. But when mommy stopped talking to you or even looking at you, it was sheer agony.

Natasha smirked. She knew when Tony had said her best friend had requested to work from home today because she “had a new puppy that she had to take care of,” she had to come visit Wanda’s home office. And you did not disappoint.

You could’ve almost cried from embarrassment, kneeling in a dog bed at Wanda’s feet in nothing more than a pink collar and your puppy ears. There was a chain leash attached to your collar that Wanda had tucked mindlessly around her wrist. Your neglected cock was desperately hard between your legs, dribbling little bits of precum onto the fluffy fabric underneath you.

Natasha was surprised to find you weren’t wearing a tail, as that was typically one of Wanda’s staples. “No tail today, puppy?” She questioned. Unlike Wanda, she did look at you when she spoke. You wished she wouldn’t. Her green eyes sent shivers down your spine. You wanted Wanda’s attention, not hers. You didn’t answer.

“No tail today,” Wanda sighed, answering for you. She finally looked down at you with a harsh glare. “Do you wanna tell Tasha why you don’t have your tail in today, puppy?” The look she sent you cast your eyes onto the floor. It was bone chilling. When you didn’t answer, she prompted you further. “Where was your tail when I got home yesterday? Was it in your ass, where good girls keep their tails?”

“No,” you admitted shamefully, barely above a whisper.

“No it wasn’t, was it?” She scolded, returning her attention back to her work. You cursed yourself for not being able to keep eye contact. Maybe if she could see the pained look in your eye, she’d cut the punishment short and skip to the cuddles you so desperately needed.

Natasha's eyes lit up in surprise. You were typically so well behaved for Wanda. She couldn’t help but feel a spike of arousal at the thought of Wanda coming home to find you without your tail. Oh how she would’ve loved to watch that punishment. She couldn’t exactly see your ass from how you were sitting, but she was willing to bet it was covered in delicious little welts and bruises.

“You wanna show Tasha the pretty plug you’ve got in today, instead?” Wanda asked, wiggling her heel under your ass and forcing you up. Natasha stood expectantly next to Wanda as she forced you forward onto all four. You whimpered as you caught yourself on your elbows.

Natasha's suspicions were immediately confirmed when she saw your welted ass, clearly spanked raw. She wondered if Wanda had gone as far as using the cane on you last night. Oh how you would’ve cried. She felt herself growing hard at just the thought.

Wanda pressed the point of her shoe into your balls, wiggling her foot to provide friction. “Spread your ass for Tasha so she can see your pretty plug.”

You did as she asked, reaching back with both hands to better reveal the pink plug stuffed inside of you. “Mommy’s Girl” was written across the base in fancy lettering. The maneuver forced you onto your shoulders, face resting against your dog bed.

Natasha reached her hand down to touch you, stopping to look at Wanda, who nodded in approval. She pushed on the base of the plug forcing it further into your ass.

It was the biggest one Wanda had ever had you wear by a pretty wide margin. You’d cried when she put it in this morning, and the cruel sting had barely faded throughout the day. The simple sensation of Natasha’s hand was almost enough to have you in tears again.

“She’s a little sensitive, aren’t you, puppy? You’ve never had anything that big in your little ass before have you?” Wanda explained, moving her foot so the point of her shoe lightly caressed your shaft.

You shook your head into the soft fabric of the dog bed, holding back tears. The sensation of the two women’s hands on you, toying with you cruelly, was terribly overwhelming.

“Mommy’s dirtying her favorite shoes for you puppy,” Wanda smirked sadistically, nearly laughing at how pathetic you looked on the ground in front of her. She could tell the contact, after a morning of neglect, was overwhelming you. “What do you say?”

“Thank you mommy!” You cried, muffled by the plush bed your face was forced in to. “And thank you Natty for playing with my ass!”

Natasha inspected you carefully, running her hands over the raw swell of your ass. She didn’t stop when you winced and whimpered at the harsh contact she made with your sensitive skin. She leaned forward, peeking her head under you to get a better look at your cock.

She was consistently surprised by how small you were, especially in comparison to her. Even as hard as you were, your cock couldn’t have been a full 5 inches long. You weren’t terribly thick either, thinner, even in proportion, than she was. “Poor puppy,” she cooed teasingly. “I bet you can’t even please your mommy with a dick that little, can you?”

You naïvely expect Wanda might chime in on your behalf, but when she just laughed, your face burned red. You wanted her to defend you: tell Natasha that even though it was small, you had the sweetest, prettiest cock in the universe and she loved it. Sure she had to put you in a sleeve sometimes when she fucked you, but you were more than capable of getting her off. She loved your little cock, even if it was small.

But she said nothing of the sort. She simply laughed like Natty had told a silly joke.

You heard the undoing of a belt buckle behind you, and then your head was pulled back up by the leash. “Come here, honey,” Natasha instructed, motioning for you to stand up. “Let’s see how you measure up.”

You looked to Wanda, hoping she would come to your rescue, but she simply raised her eyebrows expectantly. For once, you found you didn’t want to leave your puppy bed.

You clambered to your feet, finding yourself face to face, dick to dick with Natasha Romanov. You blushed fiercely, looking down at the space between you. Where Natasha’s shaft stood proud at 9 inches, yours was a lousy 4 ½. Not to mention hers was twice as thick, ridged with strong veins up to the tip. It wasn’t so much that you were jealous of her, you just wished you hadn’t looked so puny in comparison. Maybe if you were 6 or 7 inches, this wouldn’t be such a humiliating display. Even if you just had a little more girth, her dick wouldn’t make yours look like a child’s in comparison.

Instead you stood there, eyes wide as you stared down at her, simply unable to speak. You wanted to defend yourself in some way, but what was there to defend? Her dick was superior to yours in every way. At least you were largely hairless in comparison. Then again, that just made you look more juvenile.

Natasha laughed at the stunned look on your face. “Wanda, I don’t think your sweet little puppy has ever seen a real cock before.”

Much to your chagrin, Wanda laughed too. “No, Tasha. I think it’s only ever been silicone and the pathetic little thing she’s got between her legs.”

Natasha moved to stand next to Wanda, who looked up at her, amused, from her desk chair. You watched in horror as she dropped your leash and grabbed Natasha shaft, placing a light kiss to the tip. “Don’t be rude, puppy. Tell Tasha what a pretty cock she has.”

“You-you have a very pretty cock Natty,” you stammered.

She smiled back at you condescendingly. “Thank you, puppy.”

“Now go lay down,” Wanda instructed, watching you pad over to your bed. You got back on your knees, helpless to do anything but watch the scene before you unfold.

“You truly do have quite the impressive member here,” Wanda said in faux sincerity. She lazily ten her tongue around Natasha’s tip in between sentences. “Maybe I’ll get a cast of it, for when I start to miss you. I could even get my sweet puppy to wear it as a sleeve, so she can feel what it’s like to have a real cock.”

“The poor puppy,” Natasha teasingly cooed, looking down at Wanda, “can she even get you off with that little thing?”

Wanda smirked, running her tongue up the underside of Natasha’s dick. “I have better luck getting off with a toy up that pretty ass of hers,” she teased. “I don’t even have to touch it most of the time. The little thing goes twitching and spurting all on its own.”

Natasha growled. “God, I’d love to watch her cry on my cock. Poor thing probably wouldn’t make it halfway down before the tears started flowing.”

Wanda chuckled again, continuing to lazily pump her hand against Natasha’s groin. “That will truly be a show. I can find a way to keep her mouth occupied, should she put up too much of a fuss.”

The two women continued talking, laughing at each other’s jokes, seemingly enriched in the conversation. All while Wanda casually played with Natasha’s perfect dick. And, most importantly, they never sparred you so much as a glance.

They talked about you, briefly. But the conversation soon shifted to other topics: work, travel plans, antidotes from the past. They seemed to go on and on in a jovial little conversation you were not invited to be a part of.

You whined and whimpered from your bed, jealousy boiling up inside of you, but you didn’t dare leave your bed. Even in a jealous rage, you knew the rules. You wouldn’t speak and you wouldn’t leave your bed until Wanda told you to.

You tried to remind yourself Wanda was just playing. You’d talked about this several times before. Natasha was by no means a new and unexpected addition to your sex life. But something about the way Wanda was genuinely smiling up at Natasha, her perfect dick in Wanda’s nicely manicured hand, made it feel like more than playing. You found yourself crying, tears falling down your cheeks as you tried to get their attention.

You were practically jumping around your bed, seconds away from running up and pushing Natasha away, when she finally said “Tony will be expecting me back. I told him I’d only be gone an hour or so.”

“Okay,” Wanda sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. If I can get the little one to behave. Love ya.”

Natasha zipped up her pants, shoving her hard on back down in her underwear. “Love ya. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then, with all the audacity in the world, she bent down and gave Wanda a little peck on the lips.

When Natasha finally left the room, Wanda finally tapped her lap and whistled for you to come. You ran to her, nearly sending her rolling chair across the room with the impact. She caught you in her arms, gently petting the back of your head. “Shhh puppy, mommy’s got you. You’re okay.”

You whined pathetically in her lap, pawing at her shirt and leaning back to look her in the eyes. “You were just playing with Natty, right? You don’t really like her cock better, do you? Mine is still your favorite, right? Even though it’s little and maybe not so… pleasurable as hers, it’s still your favorite? Please tell me it’s still your favorite.”

Wanda giggled, calmly coddling you into her while you cried. “Of course your cock is still my favorite, baby. I was just playing with Tasha, puppy. Remember what I told you? I don’t like playing with her like I play with you. You're my special little puppy and no one is ever going to change that.”

“And-and you didn’t like kissing her either because I’m your favorite person to kiss and you were just playing when you did that,” you rambled.

Wanda eyebrows lifted in surprise. She straight up made out with Natasha in front of before for your enjoyment. She was surprised the little kiss set you off so bad. “Of course, love,” she said, pulling you into a kiss. “You’re my absolutely favorite person to kiss.”

“You promise?” You pleaded “Even though she’s bigger, and… and her cock is perfect. And she’s prettier than I am…”

You were interrupted by Wanda grabbing your face. “Hey,” she said firmly, “you’re talking about my special puppy right now and we’re not gonna use words like that, okay? Sweetheart, if it was really bothering you to watch me and Tasha like that, I need you to use your safe word, okay? I’m only playing, honey. And I can only do that if I know that you’re okay.”

You nodded. “I-I like watching you play with Natty, but you were pretending like I didn’t exist and I got a little scared that you forgot…” you explained. “You weren’t even holding my leash. You just… left it on the ground!”

“Oh sweet girl,” she soothed, “of course mommy didn’t forget about you, baby. We were putting on a little show special for you, sweetheart.”

“I know, I know,” you cried. “I was trying really hard to remember. But you were just so happy with her, and-and… I thought maybe you liked her better than me!”

“Would you have felt better sitting in mommy’s lap?” She asked, trying to problem solve this venture for the future.

You nodded. Everything is better when you can hold onto mommy.

She chuckled. “Okay, baby. How about this: next time you need my lap you just give my clothes a little tug. You won’t get in trouble for leaving your bed. If you start to feel any bad feelings, you can feel free to crawl up in my lap. Or, can you remind me of our word we use we use when we have to take a little pause and talk about something?”

“Y-yellow,” you responded.

“That’s right!” She praised. “You’re such a smart puppy. Can you promise you’ll use that next time we’re playing and you start to not feel so good?”

You nodded. “Yes mommy, I promise.”

“Good girl,” she cooed. “Remember that even during your punishments, you have the right to interrupt if something doesn’t feel right, okay. Not everything is supposed to feel good, but it’s never supposed to be too much.”

You nodded against her, wrapping your arms around her possessively. 

She let you sit like that for a minute, cooing over how much she loved you, before tucking your head into her neck and wheeling back to her desk. She carefully moved her laptop away from the center of the desk, lifting you up and setting you down in its place. You hissed as your sore ass mad e contact with the hard surface. “Now, how about mommy takes a little break from work to show you how much I love this little cock of yours, and then you can sit on my lap and cuddle until I’m done for the day?”

You nodded, leaning back against the desk, bracing yourself as she spread you out in front of her. She nudged your legs apart, sliding herself between them as she took you in. She places gentle kisses up your thighs, ruining her knuckle lightly against your throbbing shaft. “Such a pretty puppy. You’re still so hard for me angel. Have you been waiting on mommy to take care of you all day?”

You nodded, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from whining. Your dick was so beyond hard by this point. It took all of your willpower to stay still on the desk.

She finally took you into her hand, gently massaging the precum from your tip. “Oh angel,” she breathed, licking the thin liquid up as it dripped down your shaft. “This is mommy’s favorite cock, princess. There’s never been a more perfect one in the world.”

“Really?” You squeaked. After an afternoon of neglect, her tongue immediately felt like heaven. You were struggling to keep your head upright, but she wrapped your leash around her hand, forcing you to stay. She looked at you like you were her whole world.

She nodded, slipping the tip of your cock past her lips. You almost immediately jerk at the heavenly sensation, but she was already holding your hips in anticipation. You weren’t known for being a patient puppy. She slid one of your legs up over your shoulders to give her better access.

Her mouth moved rhythmically around your cock, occasionally pulling away to suck on your balls while she stroked you with her hand. She went slow, but not cruelly so. She was taking her time with you because you were important. Because she loved you.

Your hands tightened around the edge of the desk, fingernails digging into the underside of it. “Mommy…” you moaned, straining against the leash.

“Mmm,” she hummed, lip still wrapped around your cock. The good thing about your small size was she could take you in your entirety without much effort. You could feel your tip nearing the back of her throat.

She moved her hands from your balls down to the plug in your ass. She tapped the metal with the tip of her nails, sending vibrations deep inside of you.

You whined. “Mommy it’s gonna hurt….”

“Aww,” she cooed, sloppily kissing down your shaft. “Is it gonna hurt when you cum baby? Is it gonna hurt when your tight little ass clenches around mommy’s big plug?”

You nodded. She pulled on the end of the metal plug, twisting it inside of you. The pain sent shivers up your spine.

“It’s okay, puppy,” she soothed, “Mommy’s right here baby. It’ll only last a little bit and then you’ll get all the cuddles you can ever dream of, okay?”

“O-okay,” you breathed and she sucked sharply on your balls. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, willing yourself not to orgasm too hard.

But Wanda seemed intent on ruining this plan. She masterfully guided her tongue around your tip before she took you down to the hilt, letting it hit the back of her throat. She switched her attention between fondling your balls and playing with the plug in your ass. It wasn’t long before you were ready to cum.

“You're holding back on mommy, aren’t you? I can feel you all swollen in my mouth. And these little balls are very full, puppy. Don’t you wanna cum for mommy? You’ll feel much better after,” she insisted.

Your bottom lip quivered. “I’m scared, mommy.”

She smirked. She’d never seen you so dedicated to not having an orgasm. Either way, your resistance was futile. She continued to toy with the plug while she skillfully sucked you off. She tightened her hold on the leash.

It wasn’t even a full minute before you were begging. “Mommy. Mommy please. Please mommy I’m gonna cum. Please mommy,” you pleaded.

With one final stroke, you came, spilling down her throat. She was sure to swallow every drop, treating it as if it were a holy thing she’d be loathe to waste.

The pain overshadowed the pleasure almost immediately. Your ass tightened frantically around the plug, futilely attempting to push it out. It hurt worse now than it had going in. You cried out, reaching out to grab any part of her you could.

“Shshshhhh,” she soothed, holding her hand in one of hers while the other stroked your forehead. “You did so good for me, puppy. You’re such a good girl. It’s over now honey. You can have all the cuddles baby.”

She slid back down your body, methodically kissing her way back down your stomach to your now soft dick. She took it into her hands, all shrunken and small, and placed a little kiss to the head. She nuzzled it with her nose. “Mommy’s perfect puppy and her perfect little cock. The softest and the prettiest in the whole entire world.”

“It’s all yours,” you assured, breathlessly. “Nobody else in the world gets to touch it.” You paused before giggling a little bit. “Except for maybe Natty sometimes. But only if mommy says it’s okay.”

She giggled. “That’s right, princess. You’re a smart little puppy.”

You nodded, letting her lift you off the desk and back into her lap. She grabbed a throw blanket from the couch and tossed it over your shoulders, using it to swaddle you into her chest.

You sat astride her lap, arms crossed over your own chest as you nestled into hers. She placed a kiss on your head, rubbing the back of your hair with her thumb.

“Get some rest now, puppy. Mommy’s got work to do.”

[madbard]

I can’t stop thinking about a TMA fic idea where, instead of going Somewhere Else at the end of the series, Martin wakes up back in the safe house the morning the world ended.

Jon doesn’t remember anything. Neither, it seems, does anyone else. Martin checks the statements they’ve received and finds Elias’ message in the top file, exactly where he had expected it. In classic Martin fashion, he promptly commits arson and discards of the ashes. If none of this feels quite real, then at least it is a pleasant dream. It’s been so long since he’s dreamed like this.

Martin and Jon have a lovely, quiet day. They walk over to see the cows. They eat together, and Martin prepares tea. Jon knows something is wrong, but Martin brushes it off, blaming his strange mood on nightmares. It’s been a rough few years, and even rougher few months. If Martin seems a bit… off, well, it only makes sense.

Moreover, something in Jon doesn’t want to know what Martin is hiding. Something in him so deeply yearns to keep its eyes shut.

That night, they go to sleep, side by side. Jon lies across from Martin, relatively human and relatively happy and, most importantly, alive. Martin falls asleep tracing the scars on his hands.

The next morning begins like any in the safe house. Martin wakes up and wanders over to the kitchen to make some tea, while Jon follows him, still fighting off sleep. The morning light through the windows sets everything aglow and as Martin opens up the cupboard, he couldn’t be happier… until his hand brushes empty air.

“… Jon?”

“Hm?”

“Where’s the tea we bought yesterday?” At this point he knows. But he has to be sure. And when Jon looks up at him, confused, and tells him that they ran out yesterday and certainly didn’t purchase any more, that they were planning to buy some today, Martin felt that truth solidify in his stomach like a stone.

Jon sees the change in Martin’s expression and this time he almost asks - but that same part of him that covered his eyes earlier now rears up and nearly chokes him. He doesn’t want to know.

“Martin? What-”

Martin doesn’t give him the chance to finish. In seconds, he’s out the door, crumpling Elias’ message as he walks.

That day is quiet and difficult, filled with arguments and half-asked questions, obviously false answers. When they fall asleep, Jon is turned away. Martin stares up at the ceiling until sleep claims him.

The next day seems a bit dimmer. He stays in bed with Jon as long as he can, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse, the warmth of his breath, as they hold each other in the quiet morning.

Days pass, then weeks. Martin learns every path by heart, every conversation, at first precious, eventually made dull by repetition. Sometimes, he’s able to smile. Sometimes, he admits that he can feel the Lonely rolling over him like the tide. (What could be lonelier than going through such an experience, and being unable to talk about it? What could be lonelier than knowing that, no matter what, everything you do today will be forgotten tomorrow?) Jon can offer comfort, but he cannot ask why that comfort is needed. He cannot know.

In the end, Martin wakes up early. He puts Elias’ message in his pocket and goes into town, buying tea and pastries and two pairs of comfortable walking shoes.

They share a warm breakfast together, as a thick white fog hangs around the cabin. Martin finishes his tea, and places the statement on the table when Jon isn’t looking.

“I’m going to go for a walk.”

“In this fog?” Jon looks out the window, and in his eyes, Martin sees the reflection of the Lonely. He gets up and walks over.

“I just want to stretch my legs. I’ll be back before lunch, alright?”

Jon meets his gaze, and if some communication passes between them, it is swiftly buried by the fog. “Alright. I need to take a statement anyway.”

Before leaving, Martin bends down and kisses him, just once.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Martin steps out into the mist and walks, walks and walks until the world ends.

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Seven

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

The soft vibrating of the quintjet rumbled against my feet as I sat down next to Bucky while Steve drove. We had been up in the air for a while now but we were all tired from our fight. We wanted to rest before the next fight. 

I dared to look over to Bucky, who had his eyes trained hard against the back of Steve’s head. So many emotions were running through him. 

Anger. 

Rage. 

Confusion.  

Sighing, I placed a hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. He turned his gaze towards me and forced a smile. 

“I’m okay,” he tried to reassure me but I knew. 

���Do you want to talk?” I asked. 

He shook his head before turning his attention to Steve once again. “What’s going to happen to your friends?” 

A loud sigh escaped through his lips and Steve shook his head. “Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it.”

“I don’t know if I’m worth all this, guys.” Bucky admitted with a sad sigh. 

“Buck,” I sighed. “Don’t say that.” 

“What you did all those years, it wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice,” Steve said over his shoulder. 

“I know. But I did it,” Bucky said without missing a beat. 

The tears started to form in my eyes and I shook my head while standing up. I couldn’t sit and let Bucky feel bad about himself for what he did all those years as The Winter Soldier. He was forced to kill all those people. 

I sat towards the back of the jet on one of the weapons crates and tried to calm myself with deep breaths. 

“Doll?” 

Tearful eyes met with Bucky’s sad ones and all I could feel from his was one thing; he was worried about us. 

“I’m fine, Bucky.” I reassured him. 

“You’re crying,” he noticed. 

“It’s been a very long day,” I admitted with a sigh. 

Bucky came in front of me and spread my knees open with his metal hand, stepping between them. The same hand pulled my braid free and ran fingers through my hair, combing out the knots. 

I closed my eyes, enjoying the small moment of domestic bliss as he massaged my scalp. I hummed in pleasure, wishing we were in a different situation; back in our home in Romania, just the two of us laying in bed. 

We never had the chance to be intimate with each other, Bucky only feeling comfortable with cuddling and kisses. I was fine with it at first but there was a part of me that wondered if we would ever take that next step. 

We’ve never even kissed with tongue, only a few pecks. 

His plump lips brushed against my forehead. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

I shrugged my shoulders. “I was missing our home. I wish we could be there right now.” 

Bucky smiled. “It wasn’t much but we made it ours, huh?”

The question I wanted to ask kept trying to crawl its way through my throat but I didn't want to push Bucky more than he was today. 

“Hey,” he softly spoke, “What’s going on?” 

Hesitating for a moment, I sighed. “I have to be honest with you. About Steve and me. We didn’t just work together, we sort of had something together.” 

Bucky’s body went rigid before he released the anger with a sigh. “I know.” 

My grasp fell slightly on his hips. “You do?” 

“You’re pretty easy to read, doll,” he gave me a smug smirk. “Is there still something going on between you two?”

Immediately I shook my head. “No. Not since the night I took you to my family cabin.”

“If things were different, if I never found you, would you be with him right now?” Bucky questioned after a beat of silence. 

I hesitated, not sure what the answer was that he was looking for. 

“I don’t know, Buck. There was something there, I can’t deny that.” I admitted. 

He went to walk away but I grabbed his flesh arm to stop him. “I know you’re jealous of mine and Steve’s past but please just listen to me for one second.” 

When I knew he wasn’t going to leave, I continued. “Can you tell me what’s going on between us?” 

“I thought we were together,” Bucky said. 

“We are,” I nodded. “You know I’m fine with not putting a label on us until you feel comfortable with yourself and us.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I am comfortable with us, doll.” 

I couldn’t help but scoff. “Are you? Because I’m afraid to take the next step with you because I don’t want to push you.”

“It’s difficult, Y/N. Trying to remember how to kiss a girl or even touch one. I haven't had sex with anyone since the night you left Hydra. It’s not easy having you around Steve, knowing that he knows more about those things. He can give you what you want and need now while I don’t know when I can give you that.” 

My hands cupped his cheeks and I forced him to look at me. “Listen to me, Bucky. I don’t want anyone else besides you. Steve and I did have something between us but I promise you that I’m only yours.” 

He nodded in my hands. “I’m trying, Y/N. I really am, I just need a little more time.” 

“I understand, I do. But you have to understand that when I’m giving you a foot, I can only ask for an inch in return.” I said. 

“I just wish I knew how,” Bucky admitted, eyes looking down for a quick second.

“What if we shared silent ques to know how we’re feeling?” I suggested. 

When Bucky agreed, I decided to show him what I was talking about. 

“A kiss on the cheek; friends,” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

I couldn’t help but laugh at his pouted lip. 

“A kiss on the forehead; I hope we're together forever.” 

A soft kiss on his forehead. 

“A kiss on the ear; you’re my everything.” 

A gentle kiss on his ear. 

Bucky sucked in a breath when my lips nibbled on his ear for a quick second. 

“A kiss on the hand; I adore you.” 

I made sure to grab his metal one, the one that he was still nervous to use around me, and gave a chaste kiss across his knuckles. 

“A kiss on the shoulder; we belong together.” 

I brought him close to me and left a quick kiss on his shoulder but scrunched my face when I was met with the taste of leather and velcro. 

“Sorry,” Bucky giggled. 

“A kiss on the neck; I want you,” I spoke lustfully. 

I placed a few kisses on Bucky’s neck, taking my time slowly sucking after each kiss. His hands wrapped around my hips, squeezing them with every kiss. 

“A kiss on the stomach; I’m ready.” 

With a gentle push, I was kneeling in front of Bucky and slowly lifted the bottom of his shirt and felt my insides melt when I saw his happy trail going from his belly button to the top of his belt buckle. A few soft kisses down the trail was all I did, not knowing if he was comfortable. 

He answered my silent question when his hands gripped through my hair, gently forcing a few more kisses across his belt line. While standing up, face to face with him, I placed a finger underneath his chin, my breath fanning over his lips. 

“A kiss on the lips; I love you.” 

Time seemed to stop as I placed a soft kiss on his lips. I had every intention of pulling away but Bucky had other plans. 

His lips collided with my own, hungrier than I had ever felt before. His arms wrapped underneath my ass, lifting me back onto the gun crates. Bucky pushed my knees open with his own and once again was standing in between them. 

I felt his tongue push its way through my mouth and for the first time in years, our tongues danced together in the lustful bliss we had created. My hands gripped his vest, trying everything I could do to pull him closer to me. 

Bucky’s flesh fingers traced down my neck over my collar bone and stopped at the zipper of my suit. He slowly started pulling the zipper down and I moaned into his mouth. 

“Bucky.” 

He mimicked my own moan, only louder, when my hands pulled at his belt, suddenly wanting his pants off. 

“Are you sure?” I asked after taking a quick break from kissing. 

Bucky answered my question with a kiss to the neck, teeth scraping alongside my veins and sucking love bites all over. The lust I felt over taking me from Bucky was strong and I felt myself getting dizzy at the thought of our naked bodies together. 

“Let's take it slow,” Bucky breathed into my neck. 

He worked the zipper down to my navel and his flesh fingers traced circles on my bare stomach. I laced fingers with his metal fingers, giving him a silent approval that he was able to use that hand for whatever he wanted. 

I knew he was still insecure about even touching me with his metal arm but wanted him to know that I wanted to feel the coolness of his fingers touching me, all over. 

In a quick instant, his vest was on the ground and as our lips still collided with each other, my hands started slowly pulling his shirt up but a loud cough from behind us, stopped our actions in an instant. 

Looking over his shoulder, I noticed Steve had his arms crossed over his chest while looking at us.

“We’re almost there.” Steve’s voice was curt. 

Wiping off the excess saliva from my lips, I fixed my hair while Bucky zipped my suit back up, his body covering Steve from seeing anything that was underneath. 

“Sorry,” I apologized. 

Steve only nodded before retreating back to the pilot seat, leaving Bucky and I alone. 

Our eyes locked and I could feel the lust ooze out of them. 

“Was that okay?” I questioned while biting my lip. 

“Doll, that was more than okay.” He groaned, thinking back to our heated kiss just a few moments ago. 

“We’ll have to pick up where we left off once this is all over,” I said.

Bucky’s flesh hand reached for mine and I accepted it, jumping off of the crate. Bucky placed a soft kiss on my lips before nodding towards Steve. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom before we land.” 

Nodding, I gave him a quick smile while he walked the other direction than me. Sitting beside Steve, we both sat there in silence, afraid to say the first word. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Steve apologized. 

“It’s fine,” I said while playing with my fingers. 

“He loves you, ya know,” Steve’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. 

“Hm?” I questioned, raising my head to face him. 

Steve put the jet on autopilot before looking over to me. 

“If you’re afraid that Buck won’t ever say it to you, don’t be. I’ve seen him with a lot of girls back in the day but none of them have changed him the way you do. You both have had a shit hand dealt to you over the years so if anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s him.” 

I smiled at Steve’s kind words. “Even if it’s with me?” 

“Even if it's with you,” he winked. 

Bucky returned, placing a kiss to my ear, and sat next to me. Linking our hands together, mine with his flesh, I couldn’t help but stare up at his soft blue eyes before I rested my head on his shoulder, trying to enjoy these last few moments of peace. 

[sunny374940]

WIP... Thursday :D

@spinfins, @lavender-tea-fling, @mercars-musings, @starfleetteddybear, @redheadsramblings, @sorrowsfallallaround

Hi guys, sorry to summon you onto a post that's not fanfic, but I would really value your opinion. I have been GRIPPED by the beginnings of writing an original story and am wondering whether there's any merit in pursuing the thing further. So I'd be grateful for your thoughts, but no hard feelings if you don't want to look at this <3 (also consider yourself tagged if you wanna share any of your wips)

The story is shaping up to be a modern fantasy romance / adventure / something and it's v. gay. It's about a half-elf researcher who is assigned a bodyguard (he doesn't want a bodyguard and definitely doesn't need one, thankyouverymuch) and there will be much pining and peril and feelings from the look of it.

So if anyone wants to look at the thing, it's down here (this is the first page and a little, working title is Damn Sky Whales).

The doorbell rang, startling Fern out of his research. Was it the time already? Surely not, he'd been at this only for - he checked his phone - four hours now. Damn. It was the time.

He threw on whatever clothes he could manage to locate in the mess that was his bed, grateful to Past Fern for the great idea of taking a shower before settling down to more work, and ran to the front door. He opened it in a rush and found himself eye to chest with a stranger. The chest was quite wide, he couldn’t help noticing, bordered by well muscled arms. He took a step back to look the man in the face, which was some way up. Fern wasn’t that short, surely?

“You are not my driver.”

The man was giving him a curious look and Fern could feel his mismatched socks staring accusingly from his shoes. His hair was probably a terrible mess too.

“I’m your bodyguard, sir,” he said, as if that explained anything.

“I don't have a bodyguard.”

“Well, now you do. But I can drive, if that helps.” 

Fern could tell from the amused glint in his eyes that he definitely noticed his ogling, as well as his socks. And he was human. Of course. No self-respecting elf would take the job of safeguarding a half-breed like him. 

“I am certain I don’t need a bodyguard.”

He was being a bit childish, arguing like that, but the way he couldn’t dissuade him was getting annoying. 

“Your mom made the arrangements on your behalf.”

Ah. His dear elven mother. She did enjoy taking over his life. But for all her faults, her support put him through university, when it wasn’t easy for a half-elf to even be admitted to study. Though his academic success was entirely his own, she wouldn’t take the credit there.

It seemed that there was no point in arguing with the bodyguard. His bodyguard. Why would he need one, anyway? Yet another of mother’s idle fancies, most likely. He wouldn’t be able to protect him if anything went wrong today, but she probably felt better for doing this.

“Ugh. Alright. What’s your name?”

“Gareth, sir. So, where we going?”

“We will be inspecting a dragon's lair today. Their numbers have been dwindling over the past few years and I will get to the bottom of this. They are thaumivores and the background magic-”

The bodyguard was watching him with a stony expression.

“You don’t care about the dragons, do you?” he sighed. Why did he even bother?

“Sorry, never given much thought to the sky whales, sir.”

That damn comparison! Just because they floated calmly through the skies and allowed the magic to pass through them, everyone considered them to be useless annoyances that meddled with air traffic. He was being unfair to actual whales right now, but that was besides the point. He could feel the beginnings of a rant coming on.

“They are much more complex than that! They are not mere krill-feeders, the thaumic ecosystem itself is dependent on their presence. They harmonize the magical frequencies, do you know how many wild magic storms there would be without them?”

The corners of the bodyguard's mouth were quirked up just the slightest bit. He was trying to get a rise out of him! Fern deflated. He hadn’t really slept last night, he’d been too caught up in poring over maps of thaumic interference to notice that it was getting late and only nodded off for a few hours amongst the papers spread out on his bed.

“Let’s just go, it’s a long drive.”

“As you say, sir.”

“Could you dispense with the ‘sirs’? I’ve had enough for the whole week already. I’m Fern.”

He didn’t argue, to Fern’s surprise.

“Alright. And why do you need a driver? Your hands too soft for the steering wheel?”

“I don’t like to drive, simple as that. So this is the one thing my mother’s wealth allows me that I take advantage of.”

He didn’t have to tell him that his mother actually insisted on him having a driver after the last time he made a brilliant breakthrough in his research while driving to work and nearly killed himself by slamming the car into a lamp post when he got lost in thought.

[emsdevs]

The Return

Bear and Bug 🐻🐞

a/n: surprise!! kirby talked me into splitting this part up, so you all get one more part of the main conflict after this!! enjoy!!!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Bear and Bug Masterlist

Three weeks had passed since you arrived at Cole’s place, and he’s been trying everything under the sun to get you to return to the lake house with him. Today, after getting out of bed, you find out he’s pulled out the big guns. When you walk into the living room, you’re met with not only Cole but also Trevor and Alex. Apparently, Cole had filled them in on the situation, and they changed their flights to Montreal to come help. 

“C’mon. It can’t be that bad. I know for a fact Jack misses you,” Trevor is currently trying to encourage you to come with them, your packed suitcase sitting beside him. At some point during the night, they had snuck into your room and packed your bags, leaving you with no “good” excuse not to go with them.

“You talked to him?” your head shoots toward Trevor, hope filling your eyes. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

“...No,” he looks toward the ground as he speaks, “but! I know Jack, and I know he’s probably falling apart at the seams if you two haven’t talked in three weeks. You’re his person. He’s probably dying right now.”

“Oh, great. I’m killing my best friend! This is exactly what I was worried about when Quinn and I got together. He’s been having such a tough time, and I’ve made it a hundred times worse. I’ll be lucky if he ever talks to me again.”

“You’re right. She is being dramatic,” Alex whispers to Cole before stepping forward to try to comfort you. “Look, sweetheart, the only way to make this any better is to bite the bullet. I know you’re scared, but you can’t keep running away from it.”

You were silent for a moment, shocked by the wisdom from Alex. After gathering your thoughts, you spoke, “You’re right. Let me go be sure you all got everything, and then we can head out.”

“No way that worked,” Cole couldn’t believe their plan worked in their favor.

“Bro, when did you become a shrink?”

~~

The tension at the lake house was higher than ever. Ellen and Jim had given up on trying to help their sons work out their issues, so they drove back home for a while, letting the boys stew in their anger. The boys had done nothing except that. Quinn and Luke silently shared an alliance while Jack either ignored them completely or began picking fights. 

“Hope you two are ready to go running back to your precious Bug,” Jack told the other two boys as he walked to the kitchen to grab a snack.

“What do you mean?” Luke answered, sass written all over his question.

“Trev just texted me. He, Alex, and Cole just boarded their flight. With Bug.”

“She’s coming back?” Quinn couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. He didn’t care how Jack felt anymore. He was miserable, and he needed his Bug. 

“Don’t get all excited. That doesn’t mean she’s getting back together with you,” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you think she’s coming back for you,” Luke doesn’t even attempt to hide the sneer in his voice.

“She’s my best friend, Lukey. Of course, she’s coming back to get in my good graces.” 

“Are you kidding me? Look at how you’ve been treating her, Jack! We’re all lucky she’s even coming back at all!” Quinn is angry now. You’ve probably been hurting more than he has for the past three weeks, and Jack is acting all high and mighty like you’ll come crawling back to him. As far as Quinn is concerned, you don’t need to come crawling back to anybody. If anything, the three of them owe you an apology.

“Of course, you’re sticking up for her! God, she has you wrapped around her finger! You’re so whipped you can’t see that she’s the problem here!”

“No, you don’t get to do that. You know Quinn is right. You’ve been horrible to her, and she deserves an apology. From all of us, honestly. Jesus, I mean, she even put you’re feelings above her happiness. She and Quinn could have been so happy, but you were complaining about how horrible the NHL is every night, so her main concern was protecting you. Mind you, you are not one of the two people in that relationship, so the fact she took your feelings about it into account at all is a kind of grace that you obviously don’t deserve. Why don’t you get down from your high horse and think about everything Bug has done for you? Then, you can tell us if she’s the one that needs to apologize or not,” Luke doesn’t give Jack time to answer, walking off as soon as he finishes his speech. Quinn doesn’t hesitate in following, only giving Jack a sharp look before making his way to your room once again. He found Luke already there, so they sat on your bed together, putting on a movie and soon falling asleep.

Jack, now alone in the living room, takes the time to do as Luke said. He thought back to when he knew you’d be his best friend forever. You two had silently agreed to have separate friend groups at school, but when you saw Jack’s friends had left him alone one day at lunch, you left your friends to go sit with him. They stopped talking to you after that, but you were fine with it because you had Jack. He thought about everything you had sacrificed for him, even skipping out on joining an afterschool club because it would conflict with some of his game times. How many times had you put Jack first, even when you could’ve had something really good for you if you had put yourself first? He could think of at least one: Quinn. He’s a horrible best friend. 

Jack lost track of how long he sat there, losing himself in his thoughts that were slowly becoming more and more self-deprecating, but before he knew it, he heard the front door opening. Moments later, he jumps to his feet when he sees you walk into the living area.

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath.

“Hey.”

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @hockey43 @madebyhappymeals @ccomandercody @kirajessie @beenucks @iamspeed6

join the taglist

[inellz]

「 ✦ homework ✦ 」

quackity x reader

warnings : none !

tags ~ kissing, fluff, & kind of romantic (??)

It was the kind of homework assignment you dreaded—partnered with someone you didn’t know well, forced to work together on something that, frankly, you couldn’t care less about. When you saw Quackity’s name appear on the list of partners, you groaned. You knew him from mutual friends, and while he was funny and all, he could be… a bit much. He was loud, often sarcastic, and definitely a little too confident for your liking.

He was chaotic, loud, and often distracted by anything shiny or exciting. You, on the other hand, liked things organized and straightforward. But, hey, maybe this would be a good way to push each other’s boundaries, right?

You agreed to meet at his house to work on the assignment, and when you arrived, Quackity greeted you with that signature mischievous grin.

“Well, well, look who actually showed up,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I didn’t think you were brave enough to work with me.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” you replied flatly, walking past him into the house. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You both settled into his room, however, it didn’t take long for the conversation to shift from academic to argumentative.

The two of you sat down at his desk, books and papers scattered around. You started to discuss the project, but it didn’t take long before Quackity started pulling his usual antics.

“You know, I was thinking we could just—” He interrupted you before you could finish.

“No. That’s a terrible idea,” you said, not even bothering to hide your annoyance. “We need a solid plan, not whatever that is.”

“I really think we should start with the presentation,” Quackity suggested, continuing his cut off sentence from earlier, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, an irritating smirk on his face.

“I disagree,” you shot back, brows furrowed with annoyance. “We need solid research before we even think about the presentation part. It’s pointless otherwise!”

“Oh, come on! You’re just being difficult!” He chuckled, defiantly rolling his eyes.

“Me? Difficult? Look who’s talking!” Your cheeks flushed with frustration. The playful banter soon transformed into a heated disagreement, the tension between you both reaching almost palpable levels.

“I’m telling you, we should focus on the presentation first,” Quackity insisted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, a playful smirk lighting up his face.

“And I’m saying we need to nail down the research part before anything else! Without the content, the presentation will fall flat,” you retorted, frustration creeping into your voice.

A glimmer of mischief sparked in his eyes. “Wow, someone’s a little bossy today. It’s not like it’s a dictatorship, you know.”

“Excuse me? Just because you think this is a joke doesn’t mean I can’t take it seriously!” You shot back, your cheeks warming with irritation.

His laughter filled the room, but there was something deeper in his gaze, something that hinted at the tension brewing beneath the surface. You noticed how his eyes sparkled with an intense playfulness, making you acutely aware of the distance between you.

Quackity’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Oh, I’m taking it seriously. You’re the one ruining everything. Lighten up.”

You couldn’t believe how dismissive he was being. “Maybe you should try thinking for once. Just because you talk big game doesn’t mean you actually know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing,” he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But if you want to keep playing it safe and being boring, be my guest.” he says as he gets closer to you.

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, irritation mixing with something else—something you weren’t willing to admit. “I’m not boring. I just want to get this done without you derailing it.”

“Well, you’re not really my type of person anyway,” he said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as if he’d won some kind of victory. “You’re so uptight.”

That was it. You couldn’t take another second of his dismissive attitude. You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping the floor loudly. “You’re unbelievable,” you spat, gathering your things into your bag. “I’m done. I’m not wasting any more time on this with you. You clearly don’t care, so I’m leaving.”

You didn’t even wait for a response. You turned, heading straight for the door, your frustration boiling over. You weren’t going to sit here and let him ruin your day, your project, everything. You just wanted to get away from him, even if it was for a little while.

But as you reached for the door, Quackity’s voice stopped you.

“Wait, hold on—” His footsteps were quick behind you, and before you knew it, he had grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly, trying to stop you.

“No,” you snapped, your voice sharp with anger. “Let go. You’ve made it clear you don’t give a damn about this project, or anything I’m saying. So don’t try to act like you care now.”

His grip on your wrist tightened slightly, and you could see the shift in his expression. The usual cocky grin was gone, replaced with something… different. Guilt? Regret? But you weren’t in the mood to care about his feelings. Not when he’d been so dismissive of yours.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he said, his voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to upset you, really. I just… I don’t know, I thought it’d be more fun, y’know?”

You shook your wrist out of his grip, not looking at him. “Well, it’s not fun for me when you keep treating everything like a joke.”

You turned back towards the door, but before you could even open it, Quackity was already in front of you, blocking your path.

“What are you—” You started, but your words were cut off when he reached for your shoulders, pushing you gently but firmly against the wall beside the door.

You stared at him, heart racing, the sudden closeness leaving you breathless. Quackity’s usual cockiness was gone, replaced by a seriousness that you didn’t expect. His face was inches from yours, his breath just as uneven as yours. For a long moment, neither of you said anything.

“I’m sorry,” Quackity said again, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t mean to push you like that. I didn’t think you’d get so mad.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could even process what was happening, he was closer, too close, with that cocky smirk still plastered on his face.

You glared at him, but there was a flicker of something in your chest that you couldn’t quite ignore. “Maybe you should think before you speak,” you muttered, your anger still lingering, but mixing with an unexpected tension.

Quackity’s gaze softened, and he exhaled, clearly trying to collect himself. “I’m not good at this… I’m not good at knowing when to stop. But I don’t want you to leave.” He swallowed, his grip on your shoulders loosening, as if he was afraid of pushing you too far.

You felt the heat between you both intensify, the distance closing as he stayed right there, still watching you, unsure. Something shifted in that moment—the sharp anger you felt turned into something else, something that left you confused and unsure.

You didn’t move. Neither did he.

Quackity, after a long silence, leaned in slowly, testing the waters. His lips brushed against yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. At first, you froze, your anger still lingering, but then it dissolved, just a little. His kiss deepened, his hand reaching up to cup your face, and you found yourself responding, all that tension from before turning into something almost… soft.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathing heavily, still pressed against the wall, his forehead resting against yours.

“See?” he said smugly, his usual cockiness back in full force. “Told you I’d make things interesting.”

You wiped your mouth, still processing what just happened. “You’re still a pain,” you muttered, but there was no real heat in your words now. You could feel your heart racing, but you couldn’t quite figure out what to do with this new tension between you two.

Quackity raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your shift in energy. “Oh, I know I’m funny. But you? You’re just… cute when you’re angry.” “Now you’re thinking about me,” he teased, leaning back in his chair with that infuriatingly pleased look on his face. “You’ll get used to it.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but despite everything—despite the frustration and the tension—you knew one thing for sure: you couldn’t look at him the same way again.

“Well,” you said, standing up and gathering your things, “We still need to finish this project. But you’re lucky I’m not leaving you for being an insufferable jerk.”

“Oh, you know you love it,” Quackity shot back with a wink. “Now, let’s get this over with, so we can celebrate later.”

[casedclosedbye]

"Yes, Ma'am"

Derek Morgan x reader

Fluff

Wc: 4k

Summary: A heated argument between you and your boyfriend, Derek, leads to an unexpected consequence when Derek jokingly promises to do your bidding for four months if he repeatedly dismisses your feelings.

The argument had been heated, to say the least. What started as a minor disagreement had escalated quickly, with both of you yelling at each other in frustration. Derek’s temper flared, and your patience wore thin. Words were thrown back and forth, sharp and biting.

"I don’t get why you’re making this such a big deal!" Derek snapped, pacing the living room, his hands clenched into fists.

"Because you’re *constantly* telling me I’m wrong!" you shot back, voice rising. "And it’s exhausting, Derek. I can’t even speak without you correcting me every time."

"That’s not what I’m doing! You’re just being overly sensitive!" He turned away, his back stiff, clearly trying to hold his ground.

You stood there, seething. His dismissal of your feelings, the constant undermining, it all hurt more than he seemed to realize. "I don’t know how many times I have to say it—just *listen* to me for once!"

Derek froze, his shoulders tense, and you could practically feel the distance between you growing wider with every passing second. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until you spoke again.

"You've told me I’m wrong ten times today, Derek," you said, your voice steady but laced with a quiet anger that you couldn’t hide.

Derek blinked, clearly taken aback, but he didn’t respond immediately. You could see his brain working, trying to recall the times he had dismissed you.

"Ten?" His voice was softer now, the edge of frustration gone. "I didn’t realize…"

"Yeah, ten." You crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check, but inside, you were livid. "You can’t just keep shutting me down like this and expect everything to be fine."

A few hours passed after that, the two of you in separate rooms, cooling down. You needed space, and Derek did too. The silence was painful, but you knew it was necessary. Finally, as the sun began to set, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

Derek appeared in the doorway, his face softer now, his usual confidence replaced with something more vulnerable.

"Hey," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I... I’ve been thinking about everything I said. And you’re right. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I’m sorry."

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You really mean that?"

"Yeah," Derek nodded, a sheepish grin starting to form. "I was being a stubborn ass. I shouldn’t have dismissed your feelings, and I definitely shouldn’t have told you you were wrong so many times." He rubbed his neck. "I was frustrated, but that’s no excuse. I was wrong."

You nodded, relieved that he was finally admitting what you already knew. But now, it was your turn to make your point.

"I appreciate the apology," you said, walking toward him. "But I think there’s a little something you need to remember from months ago." You smiled mischievously and tapped your wristwatch.

Derek raised an eyebrow, confused, as you pulled out your phone and pressed a button. A voice, unmistakably Derek’s, echoed from the speaker, and you watched his expression shift from confusion to realization.

"I, Derek Morgan, will buy my girlfriend whatever she wants, do all her chores, and whatever she wants for 2 whole weeks if I piss her off, or tell her she’s wrong more than two times. And if I tell her she’s wrong for twice that amount, I will do her biddings for a whole month... happy?"

You looked up at him with a smirk. "Remember that, babe?"

His eyes widened as he processed what you had just played. You had recorded it months ago, during a light-hearted conversation when you both were joking about how often he called you out. At the time, Derek had made a ridiculous promise, thinking you would never actually hold him to it.

"So," you continued, your grin growing wider, "you told me I was wrong 10 times today. So that means... four months of doing my bidding."

Derek stared at you for a moment, eyes darting between you and his smartwatch, then let out a resigned sigh. He rubbed his face, clearly embarrassed. "I was being a fool, wasn’t I?"

"You were," you replied, voice full of mock sympathy. "But it’s okay. You *did* promise, after all."

He sighed again, the tension in his posture melting as he finally gave in. "Okay. Okay, I admit it. Four months. I’ll do whatever you want." His tone was a mix of frustration and amusement. "This is the worst thing I’ve ever promised in my life."

You chuckled, crossing your arms. "You should’ve thought about that before you pissed me off, Derek."

He stepped forward, closing the distance between you two and pulling you into a tight embrace. "You really know how to hold me to my word, don’t you?"

"Yes, ma’am," you said sweetly, enjoying every moment of his surrender.

Derek laughed softly, his hands rubbing your back. "Yes, ma’am… four months. I’m gonna be your servant."

You smiled up at him, your heart softening despite everything that had happened. "I like the sound of that."

"You’re evil, you know that?" he said with a teasing grin, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"You brought it upon yourself, Derek."

He chuckled and pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes with a genuine smile. "I’ll make it up to you. I promise."

"Good," you said with a smirk. "And don’t forget, you’ve got a lot of work to do for the next four months."

"Yes, ma’am," he repeated, the words now a playful promise that you knew he would keep.

The next few days were nothing short of entertaining. Derek, for all his bravado and confidence, quickly learned that making a promise in the heat of the moment wasn’t as easy to keep when the actual work began. The first task he had to tackle? Grocery shopping.

"You’re sure about this list?" Derek asked, glancing down at the sheet of paper you handed him.

"Yes," you replied, raising an eyebrow at him. "I want everything on there. Don't forget the organic kale, and don't even think about getting the generic brand of almond milk."

"Why the organic kale, though?" Derek asked, his voice tinged with skepticism. "It all looks the same to me."

"Don’t question the kale," you said, a playful tone lacing your words. "Just get it."

He sighed dramatically, but he knew better than to push it. With a huff, he grabbed his keys. "Fine, but I’m going to look ridiculous carrying this list around."

"Not my problem," you shot back with a smirk. "Enjoy your grocery trip, servant."

When he returned an hour later, Derek wasn’t quite as amused. He dragged his feet through the door, arms laden with bags, looking slightly frazzled.

"Next time, I’m giving you a list with nothing but ‘toothpaste,’ ‘toilet paper,’ and ‘bread,’" he grumbled, dropping the bags onto the counter with an exaggerated sigh.

You grinned, unfolding the bags with glee. "You got everything, though?"

He hesitated, looking inside the bags as if half-expecting some sort of disaster to be hidden among the kale and almond milk. "I didn’t forget anything, but... I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more judged by the cashier in my life."

You chuckled, setting the kale and almond milk in their proper places. "Oh, Derek. The things we do for love."

The next task was even more amusing. You’d decided that Derek’s first real test of submission—er, servitude—would be cleaning the bathroom. You handed him the cleaning supplies with a wicked grin.

"You said it, you do it. Go clean the shower."

Derek stared at the mop and cleaning sprays with a sense of dread, knowing full well what was coming. "Are you serious? This is torture."

"You promised, remember?" you teased, watching as he reluctantly began scrubbing away. "Besides, I thought you might enjoy being at my beck and call."

The scrubbing continued for the next hour. Derek had grumbled at first but then settled into a resigned rhythm, muttering under his breath about how *no one ever told him relationships would be like this.*

At some point, you heard him grumbling about how much he hated cleaning the shower, followed by a particularly loud *"This is what I get for pissing her off."*

You couldn't help but laugh, standing at the bathroom door, arms crossed as you observed Derek’s ordeal.

"I can hear you, you know," you teased.

He glanced up from scrubbing the tiles, eyes wide. "I’m just... I’m just saying. This is how it’s gonna be for four months?"

"Yup," you said smugly. "Better get used to it."

The next few weeks were filled with more and more of Derek’s servitude, each task escalating in ridiculousness. From ironing your clothes perfectly, to doing all the laundry, Derek even found himself trying his hand at cooking dinner, which, let's just say, didn’t go as planned.

He handed you the plate, looking almost proud of himself. "I made spaghetti."

You picked up a fork, inspecting the dish carefully before looking up at him with mock seriousness. "This... this looks like a crime scene. What did you *do* to the spaghetti?"

Derek’s face turned red with embarrassment. "I followed the instructions! The noodles are just a little overcooked, okay? It’s not that bad!"

You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of the mushy noodles. Derek waited with bated breath, watching for your reaction. You chewed slowly, giving him a blank stare.

"It’s... it’s *fine,*" you said finally, trying to keep a straight face. "Definitely not something you should make me eat again, though."

He sighed in relief, but you could see the disappointment on his face. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he muttered.

"I’m lucky *you* promised to cook for me for the next few months," you quipped back.

But it wasn’t all just playful teasing. As the days wore on, Derek’s attitude shifted in a subtle but important way. He was no longer the frustrated, stubborn man who had gotten caught up in his own pride. The more he served you, the more he seemed to listen—really listen—to you. And in turn, you found yourself letting go of the resentment that had been building up before the argument.

One evening, as you two were watching TV on the couch, Derek handed you a bowl of popcorn. He’d made it himself, this time without burning it.

"Here," he said, sitting down beside you. "Popcorn, no overcooked spaghetti in sight."

You smiled at the gesture, feeling a warmth in your chest. "Thank you, Derek."

"Yeah, well," he said, his voice softening. "It’s kind of nice, you know? Taking care of you. Even if it started as a... punishment."

You looked at him, really looked at him. For the first time in a while, it wasn’t about proving something or being right—it was about the two of you, making it work despite the bumps along the way.

"I guess I’m not as evil as I look," you teased.

Derek smirked, leaning in closer to kiss your forehead. "Only a little evil, maybe."

But as the days turned to weeks, the line between joking and genuine affection blurred, and you both realized that the promise Derek had made, though born of frustration and pride, had inadvertently brought the two of you closer. In those four months of “servitude,” there were no more arguments about being right or wrong, no more fights that escalated beyond repair. Instead, there were quiet moments of understanding, shared laughter, and—when he slipped up—affectionate reminders of the promise he had made.

One evening, about halfway through the second month, Derek came to you, a bit nervous.

"So, uh, I know I’m supposed to do whatever you want for four months, but..." he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. "What if... what if I told you that I kind of... like doing this? You know, taking care of you?"

You grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, Derek, I’m glad to hear it. Because, you see, you’ve still got two more months left of this."

He groaned dramatically, but this time, there was no frustration behind it—just a tired but affectionate smile.

"Yeah, I know," he said, pulling you into his arms. "I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. But I *really* don’t think I’ll ever make that mistake again."

You laughed, kissing him softly. "I hope not."

And so, over the course of the next two months, Derek became a master of doing your bidding, and the two of you grew even closer.

As his “sentence” came to an end, you couldn’t help but feel a bittersweet tinge in your heart.

"So, what happens when the four months are up?" Derek asked, looking down at you as you both sat on the couch one last time.

You smiled, slipping your hand into his. "I think we’ve both learned a lot. But I’m not done with you yet."

Derek’s eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean by that?"

You grinned, leaning in close. "You really think I’m going to let you off that easy? We’ve still got a *lot* of unfinished business, Derek."

Derek let out a groan, but this time, it was with affection. "You’re never going to let me forget, are you?"

"Not a chance," you said, laughing softly. "Now, get to work, servant."

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Ellie loves you ✞⛧

Warnings: self-deprecation, emotional vulnerability, insecurity, body image issues, comforting dialogue, fluff, tender moments, slight teasing, soft angst, college au Ellie

Word count: 1.3k

You were sitting on the edge of your dorm bed, fingers mindlessly flipping through a worn-out notebook, your gaze unfocused. It wasn’t like you were actively trying to be in a bad mood, but everything seemed off today. Maybe it was the mess in the room or the annoying guy who knocked into you on the way to class. Maybe it was that stupid argument with your roommate about laundry. Either way, the frustration was building, and you could feel it in your chest. It made your skin crawl with irritation, and before you knew it, the muttering started.

You weren’t even aware that you were speaking out loud, but the words came anyway.

“I hate my hair. It’s always so flat and messy. Why can’t I just—ugh, why do I even bother? I hate how I look in these jeans. They’re too tight, and I feel like a damn sausage. And why is my face always breaking out? It’s like, what’s even the point of skincare? I’m so bad at everything, always…”

You trailed off, taking a breath, not even realizing how much you had spiraled in such a short amount of time. You’d been so caught up in your own head, you hadn’t noticed Ellie standing in the doorway of your room. The soft sound of her voice broke the silence, and you froze mid-rant.

“You know, I didn’t realize I was dating a comedian.”

You blinked, lifting your gaze to see her leaning against the doorframe. She had that damn smirk on her face, the one that always got to you. Her green eyes twinkled, but there was something more behind them—something that made you feel like she could see right through the tough exterior you’d put up.

“You’re really gonna sit there and complain about yourself when I’m trying to tell you how amazing you are?”

You frowned, your shoulders slumping as you looked away. “I’m not amazing, Ellie. I’m just… me. And I don’t like it.”

Ellie pushed herself off the doorframe, moving toward you with that lazy confidence she always carried, like she was ready to prove you wrong. You tried to avoid eye contact, but she wasn’t having any of it.

Before you could respond, she sat next to you on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them, her messy brown hair falling over her forehead as she gave you that familiar sideways grin.

“Alright,” she started, leaning in a little closer. “If you’re gonna go on and on about what you don’t like about yourself, then I’m gonna hit you with a list of what I do like about you.”

You raised an eyebrow, still not looking at her. “You’re gonna try to cheer me up? I’m not sure that’s gonna work.”

Ellie’s grin only grew wider. “Oh, trust me, babe. This is gonna work. You ready?”

You shot her a half-hearted glance. She looked so damn sure of herself, and despite your mood, you couldn’t help but feel a little curiosity rise. You sighed, folding your arms across your chest.

“Go ahead,” you muttered.

Ellie leaned back slightly, as if preparing for a long, epic speech. She took a deep breath, her expression shifting from playful to earnest. And then she started, her voice steady and warm, almost like she was reciting poetry.

“First of all, I love how your eyes light up when you’re passionate about something. Like when you talk about the books you’re reading, or when you’re telling me about some random fact you learned and can’t wait to share with me.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how easily the words flowed from her. You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed quiet, though the tension in your chest began to ease.

Ellie kept going, her eyes focused on you now, as if she could see everything beneath your tough exterior.

“I love how you’re always so kind, even when you think you’re being hard on yourself. You make everyone feel welcome, you know? I’ve seen you with people who are struggling, and you always know exactly what to say to make them feel better. It’s something I could never do.”

Her voice softened a little, like the words were making her vulnerable too. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. But Ellie didn’t notice, or maybe she just didn’t care.

“And your hair?” Ellie said, scooting a little closer, her voice teasing now. “That messy, wild hair of yours? It’s my favorite thing. Every time I see you with it in that stupid ponytail, I think to myself, ‘Damn, she’s perfect just like that.’”

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at that, shaking your head despite yourself.

Ellie nudged you with her shoulder, a playful grin crossing her face. “And those jeans you’re complaining about?” She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a half-smirk. “Honestly, they look damn good on you. Like, really good. Trust me, I notice these things.”

You rolled your eyes, but the blush creeping across your face made you look away, your heart skipping a beat.

Ellie wasn’t done yet. She had a lot more to say, and it wasn’t all about your appearance.

“And your brain? You’re so smart. Like, I don’t even know how you manage to fit all that knowledge in there without your head exploding. I’m not talking about school stuff either; I’m talking about life. You’re sharp, you get things in a way that most people don’t.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you just let her words sit in the air, feeling that weight of honesty settle in your chest.

“And I haven’t even gotten to your heart,” Ellie continued, her voice quieter now, more sincere. She placed a hand on your shoulder, and for a moment, everything felt still, like the world outside didn’t exist.

“You’re one of the most caring people I know, even if you don’t show it all the time. When you care about something or someone, you go all in. You’re there for the people who need you. You’re always ready to fight for them. And that’s not something you see every day.”

You felt something in your chest tighten at her words. You didn’t know how she could see all of this in you when all you saw was your own flaws. But somehow, Ellie saw something else. Something you didn’t even know how to recognize in yourself.

“You get me, you know that?” Ellie added softly, her voice tinged with something softer than usual. “You make me feel like I’m not the screw-up I always think I am. You make me feel like I’m worth something. So don’t go beating yourself up for stupid stuff, okay?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and for the first time all day, the tight knot of frustration inside of you began to loosen. You turned to Ellie, meeting her gaze for the first time since she started her rant. She was staring at you with a mix of tenderness and determination, her green eyes full of warmth.

“You’ve got no idea how much I needed to hear that,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Ellie smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I know. I’m just doing my job as your girlfriend, babe. But seriously, stop being so hard on yourself.”

You finally let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, the weight of her words lifting you. Maybe you weren’t perfect. Maybe you had your flaws. But the way Ellie saw you—really saw you—made it feel like none of that mattered.

You shifted closer to her, wrapping your arms around her in a tight embrace. “Thanks, Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Ellie chuckled, hugging you back with that same quiet confidence. “You’ll never have to find out.”

[moonwolfblues]

Chapter 2, here we go!!!

You Look At Me Like I'm All You Want (I'm Hardwired To Be With You) by MoonWolfBlues

sterek | General Audiences | 4,695 words | 2/? Read on AO3: Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

---

Stiles woke up groggy and out of it. His mouth felt like cotton and his limbs ached. He reached out gently with his magic, assessing his immediate surroundings. He could sense that he wasn’t at home, but he didn’t seem to be surrounded by enemies either for once. He’d woken up in restraints enough times to recognize the feel of them and that wasn’t what was happening here. Actually, he had no idea what was happening here.

The last thing he remembered was the explosion and feeling the pack bonds break before running for his life through the preserve.

He couldn’t hear anyone talking, so he risked opening one eye. Of course, he regretted it immediately when he was met with the hard stare of what could only be an imposing alpha. And not one that he recognized. It was just his luck that his spark would go on the fritz at a time like this. He should have been able to sense an unfamiliar presence with his magic, but for some reason he didn’t sense her.

He groaned and opened his eyes the rest of the way. He had been caught and no amount of faking on his part would get past an alpha’s keen senses, so there was no point in trying to hide that he was awake.

He moved to sit up and groaned even harder at the pain in his side. He looked down and put his hand to the newly applied bandage. Hmm… they cleaned his wounds? So they weren’t completely evil. But if he remembered correctly, the wound wasn’t that deep, well not deep enough that his bond and spark shouldn’t have started healing it by now. Which could only mean, “I’m not healing.”

This seemed to catch the alpha’s attention. “Should you be?”

“Well yeah, that’s kind of an advantage to being an Alpha’s mate. One of the cooler ones if I do say so myself.” He was rambling. He really needed to stop doing that in front of potential enemies. “That’s beside the point. Where am I? Why did you bandage my wounds?”

Her surprise turned to apprehension at his mention of mates but she didn’t move from her place at the door. “What Alpha do you serve?”

“Okay, guess we’re not answering any of my questions today.” He rolled his eyes and looked around the room. From the small window near the ceiling, he could tell it was daytime and that he was underground, most likely in a basement if the lack of furnishings and damp air was anything to go by. He couldn’t have been out that long, probably a few hours tops, so they couldn’t have dragged him far.

In fact, when he sent his magic out again, with a clearer head this time, he could feel it sing with the magic of his own territory. “My name is Stiles Stilinski, and I am the emissary of the Hale Pack.” He looked back over to the alpha and stared her down with his own brand of well-earned fierceness. “Which you should already know, seeing as we’re still on Hale land.”

The look on the Alpha’s face would be comical if she didn’t remind him so much of his dad, imposing and fierce with a touch of softness that only a parent could hold. And wasn’t that a sobering thought? Immediately, he felt the grief pouring over him in waves. It was all he could do to not cry out at the loss of his pack, of his friends and family and loved ones.

It took him a few moments to compose himself. When his eyes met the alpha’s again, they had softened somewhat. He mentally rolled his eyes. Stupid werewolves and their stupid sniffers always snooping on his emotional state. He used his spark to clamp down on his emotions. Putting a wall up between him and his grief. This wasn’t the time. He would have to deal with the loss eventually, but not when he was in the presence of an unknown alpha.

The silence was stretching longer than he was comfortable with. Granted, all silence made him uncomfortable, but he was determined to wait this out. He had done enough answering. It was the alpha’s turn to talk.

She looked like she had a lot of questions but the one he didn’t expect was, “What do you know about my son?”

His head tilted to the side, a habit he picked up over the years from spending too much time with his pack. Her son? He didn’t know her son. Why would he…? But then gray eyes flashed in his mind and he remembered who had tackled him to the ground just before he passed out. He thought it had been a dream but by the look on the Alpha’s face, it wasn’t.

“Derek…” he said it with the same love and grief that he had earlier. The emotions in his chest were battling for dominance. Grief at his death, at the loss of both their soul bond and pack bond. And cautious relief at the potential of Derek being alive. “But that’s not possible. He’s de-“ he couldn’t bring himself to say it, so instead he shook his head.

Think, think, think. What are you missing?

There was the weird light in the preserve as he was running for his life. There was the magazine-worthy mansion where the burnt-to-hell Hale House should have been. He could feel that he was on Hale land. And there was his spark going on the fritz and not recognizing an enemy five feet away from him… unless the alpha wasn’t an enemy.

“No,” he whispered, “you can’t be.” But when he looked up into the face of the strong woman in front of him, he could see the same dark hair and pale gray eyes as Derek. The same hard set of brows that could speak so well without needing a single word to be spoken aloud. He looked at her in horror and awe, “You’re Talia Hale.”

“Yes.” She said, stone-faced. “And who are you, Emissary Stillinski?”

“But you can’t be.” He yelled in exasperation, his arms flailing around him. “How are you alive? Did I bring you back without meaning to? Did Peter? God knows he has the practical experience.”

And he lost her again. The confusion and frustration was rolling off of her in thick waves. The more he said, the deeper set her frown became.

He was working himself into a frenzy, his mind working too fast. So he did the only thing he knew: he trusted his gut and released his spark in full force, letting the magic reach out of him in search of answers. He could feel his eyes and tattoos glow violet with the power. In the low light of the basement, he shone like a lava lamp, the light pulsing in time with the beat of his heart.

He heard her gasp, but it sounded far away with his attention focused elsewhere.

It didn’t take long to find answers. He felt Talia in front of him and a small group of people outside the door of the room they were in, how he hadn’t heard them with his enhanced hearing, he wasn’t sure. But above them he could sense floors and floors and floors of people. And all he could picture was the family gathered at the front of the house when he launched into the clearing. Most of them with dark hair and gray eyes. The… Hales.

“You’re alive,” he whispered, his voice gradually building. Goosebumps were quickly building along his arms, though he barely noticed them. “You’re all alive. How did you survive? No, scratch that. What about the fire? And Kate? And the mountain ash barrier? Did that just never happen? Oh my god, my brain hurts. How can you all be alive?” He just barely managed to miss hitting himself in the face with his flailing, though he did manage to pull at the injury on his side, and boy, did that hurt.

When his eyes were finally able to focus on Talia again, the reality of the situation hit him. Derek was alive. And he grew up with a loving family. And he never had to take on the guilt of their deaths. Never had to carry it with him while bad thing after bad thing tried to topple him. By the end of his questions, he was crying. Full-on blubbering with big ole baby tears.

Talia looked extremely uncomfortable with the turn of events but he didn’t care. He was too happy for the Derek that got all of this.

She stepped towards him, probably hoping to strangle him into stopping the waterworks. But her voice was unexpectedly soft when she spoke. “How do you know about the fire and about what the Argents tried to do?” She paused, “...And why do you smell relieved that their attempt failed?”

He sniffled like the strong man that he was, not even trying to wipe the tears away because he knew they weren’t going to stop any time soon. “Because from where I’m from, they did succeed, and it tore him apart. But here… here he gets to wake up every day to a family that loves him and cares for him, and that’s the best news I’ve gotten in a long, long time.”

She looked stunned that a stranger could care so much about her son. “Who are you?” she asked with wonder in her voice.

“I’m Stiles. And I think I may have accidentally altered time and space as we know it so you might want to call Deaton.” He smiled at her continued surprise at his knowledge of her life. “You still work with him, right? If the fire never happened, then he would still be your emissary.”

She nodded in confirmation.

“Then get him over here ‘cause we’ve got a lot to discuss.”

Read the full chapter on AO3.