#it’s so overwhelming to feel like this all the time and to also feel so helpless bc you don’t know what to do

[skeltnwrites]

Break the Bed In— ⋆₊˚⌂

The first morning in your new home is slow and soft, spent tangled up in bed with Steve.

mdni 18+ fem/afab reader, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), switch!steve/reader, the fluffiest sweetest smut you'll ever read | 4k

a/n: this is dedicated to all my single ladies. happy valentine’s day you freaks! coincidentally i also moved houses yesterday so this feels extra fitting

── .✦

You wake well-rested; like every inch of you was unraveled and woven back together while you dreamt. Your wrist hangs off the side of the mattress, fingernails brushing the carpet. Your bed frame is a heap of wooden slats across the room, as is most of the furniture currently in your house. 

Steve’s arm is warm under your neck, his breath a steady string behind you. You flip over, your ear landing in the crease of his elbow. 

He’s softer in sleep. Cheek squished to his shoulder, lips pressed to a pout. He’s boyish in a lot of ways still, but growing less so the longer you know him. He’s got stubble and sun spots and smile lines. And you love each of those things, swearing he’s getting more and more handsome with them every day. Blame it on the lingering moving high but today the feeling triples. 

There’s a unique kind of joy in buying your first home together. It’s perpetual surprise, popping up in the most mundane of moments. It’s picking taupe over eggshell for the living room and it’s paying extra for matching key designs and it’s waking up beside your favorite person on a mattress on the floor. 

You stamp your lips into his skin in good morning, and again because it’s a satisfying warmth on your mouth. He smells sweet, like your new body wash since he couldn’t find his last night. You decide you like the scent on his skin better than yours. 

The quiet is strange but the farthest thing from unwelcome. No neighbors or roommates or parents to wake to. Just the soft hush of rain against the roof and the swish of your ankles underneath the blankets. 

Your fingers chase the hair from Steve’s eye socket, your thumb perching behind his ear. His pupils shift under his eyelids and he sighs the softest little sound you’ve ever heard. 

It’s cruel to wake him, certainly. He did most of the heavy lifting yesterday and was up organizing later than you were. But you’re feeling especially selfish this morning, tickling him awake with a swarm of several more arm kisses. 

There are worse things to wake up to, you reason with yourself as Steve hums, his fingers curling against the sheet. He’s quiet for a long beat and you decide maybe it's better to let him rest. 

But his lips part and he rasps out, “Mornin’.” 

“Mornin’,” you parrot. Your grin is immediate, spanning ear to ear with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. 

He smushes your face to his bare collar, the heel of his free hand climbing up his cheek. 

You turn to watch his eyes unstick themselves of sleep and continue to wonder how you got so lucky. You press another kiss to his chin. Another to the coarse thatch of hair on his chest. Another to his shoulder. You just can’t help yourself today. 

“It’s so quiet,” he murmurs, hand crawling under your shirt in a long splay up your spine. 

You beam, weaving a leg under his heavy one. “I know.” 

“We have a house.” 

“I know.” You sound as excited as you can be without yelling. 

He hums, the corners of his smile creeping wider, a hand steady on your back. 

Your finger twists a curl at his nape idly. “What’re you thinking?” 

Steve’s gaze flickers from the ceiling to you, eyes like old pennies under the clouds coloring your room a gloomy shade of gray. “Nothin’,” he whispers, lips skimming the corner crease of your eye. “Just happy.” 

You hum, one part agreement, two parts delight. “Can we get a dog now?” 

He huffs out a chuckle, vibrating the place where your chests kiss. “I can’t believe it took you this long to ask.” 

“‘Cause you always say no.” 

“‘Cause it didn’t make sense before.”

“So, we can?” 

He has a hard time pretending to hate the look you show him. Your jutted lip and raised brows show no mercy. He wants to say yes, of course he does, but he’s not as impulsive as he used to be. He’s a homeowner. His responsibilities extend beyond just himself now. 

“Can we unpack the house first? Then we’ll talk about it.”

You flick his collarbone. “Excuses. Excuses.” 

If there’s a fond way to roll your eyes at someone, he’s figured out how to do it. Steve knows you’re all drama. And he knows you’re over the moon with or without the promise of a dog. 

You bend out of his embrace and regret sitting the second you’re up. Your back aches twice its weight, muscles sore with yesterday's labor. 

But Steve relishes his view. You're in nothing but underwear and one of his shirts, the dip of your lower back exposed where the hem has scrunched up. He might buy you new pajamas if he thought you’d actually wear them or if he didn’t adore just how lovely his clothes look on you. 

And he doesn’t give you a chance to ask, his fingers automatically massaging a path up your aching shoulder. You squirm but you love it. You kiss his hand in thank you and carry it around your waist to play with. 

“Don’t get up,” he says. Pleads, practically.

You face him. “But we have sooo much to unpack.” 

“It can wait,” he argues. He steals your entwined hands for a persuasive set of kisses. One to each knuckle and then a flurry up your arm. And his hands are an equally convincing force, coercing you right back onto his chest. 

You’re putty, melting into his hot hands like candle wax. You throw a leg over his waist and settle down in a more comfortable straddle. The possibility of you falling back asleep jumps an alarming percentage. 

You bolster your chin on his sternum and meet his eyes. “But I really want that dog.” 

“More than me?” 

You hum debatably into his puckered lips.

He smiles hard and forgets about kissing you, pinching your side until you yelp. Your giggles spill through twin smiles, overlapping each other in layers. “Might have to put the house back on the market if you keep being so mean to me," he says.

“I’ll be nicer if we go look at the shelter today.” 

“Mm. Not letting this go are we?” 

You shake your head.

He pecks the corner of your mouth. “We’ll go–”

You see the shift in his expression before he even says anything. Your eyebrows jump in excitement. 

“If,” he tacks on quickly, “we finish downstairs today. Hmm?” 

“Mhmm. Easy.” 

“Easy,” he repeats. But not one lick of him believes you. It wasn’t easy carrying so many of your boxes yesterday and it certainly wasn’t easy getting you to pack everything up in the first place. 

But ultimately he’s amused. And he thinks you’re especially pretty when you’re confident. So Steve kisses you like he has something to prove. 

He gropes the swell of your ass mid-kiss and while it’s not unusual for him to do so playfully, you can’t perceive it in any way innocent when you’re pressed up against his morning wood. 

“Steve,” you scold lightly. 

He hums against your mouth, a faux sound of innocence. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

You break apart with a wet smack. “Gotta unpack.”

“Have all day,” he says, words all smushed together so he can sew his lips right back to yours. 

“Mm-mmm.” You turn your cheek, but the hands on your waist don’t let you go far. “‘S, like, ten-thirty already.” 

He works a slow line past your jaw, spending extra time on the sensitive skin around your throat. Devious. 

“Steve.” 

“Hmm?” 

You push off his chest until you're sitting upright on his thighs.

His heart tick tick ticks under the flat of your palm. His pupils are wide, mouth kiss-bruised a bright shade of red. He’s so, so dreamy, all flushed and starry-eyed like this. He’s got you wrapped around his finger just as much as you’ve strung him with yours.  

You sigh. “Why do I let you win?” 

He smirks that stupid victorious smirk you love so much. “‘Cause you love me.”

“You’re so annoying.” 

“Me?” he laughs. 

“Mhmm. And a hypocrite.” 

The hand clasping your hip pressures you back down, the other cradling one side of your jaw. “A hypocrite?” he whispers. 

“Mhmm.” 

He fills the tiny space between you, half-lidded and heavy-handed in a fervent kiss. He’s not rough but he is eager. Open-mouthed and persistent like he’s trying to weld his face to yours. 

You meet him with the same intensity. It’s instinctual. The push-pull of your bodies, like you’re more one entity than two. You’ve been dating Steve long enough to know what he likes and what he doesn’t. You’ve made out more times than you can count. And he’s a simple man. You’ve got him hard, properly hard, in a matter of minutes. 

His bottom lip is pinned between your teeth, your chests rising and falling in sync. You grind back on his crotch and his breath hitches. 

“Ahh,” he pants. “Can I…” 

You don’t know what he’s trying to ask but you nod anyway. It’s not hard to piece together, though; not when he’s fisting the fabric of your shirt like it’s causing him physical pain to see you wear it. 

You help him hitch it up your back and down your arms to be tossed out of the way. Steve quickly stops you from lying back down. His large palms spread wide against your tummy, thumbs kneading either side of your belly button. He roves up your ribs attentively, studying how your skin pulls and dips beneath his fingers. 

You swear you feel him down to the divots in his fingerprints, the slow speed of his hands tantalizing. 

His thumbs pause at your breastbone, sweeping up and around your nipples as if he’s never played with them before. They perk up easily, to Steve's obvious enjoyment. 

He’s told you a thousand times how pretty you are, naked and not. And he doesn’t have to say it now for you to know he’s thinking it. 

He stares at your chest, your tummy, the soft stretch of your thighs, each like they’ve been carved from marble, destined to end up behind a glass at some museum he’s never been to. 

You get shy eventually, needling past his hold to hide in the slope of his neck. Your mouth peppers lazy kisses where it can reach. Soft ones, not nearly as greedy as before. You work your way up, suckling long enough to leave a couple of red rings in your wake. 

Steve's hips shift under yours as you arrive back at his mouth. He’s getting antsy, the finger fidgeting with the hem of your panties no longer satisfied. So maybe you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are when he holds your hips down and bucks up into your clothed cunt. 

Your jaw slackens, a broken moan dampened against his mouth. 

“Can be loud ‘s you want now,” he assures. His hands roam, around your ass and back up your sides. Soothing, but so feather-light you shudder. 

“Still have neighbors.” 

He hums in half agreement. Yes, you have neighbors, but their bedroom wall isn’t attached to yours. He imagines you’d have to scream bloody murder for the neighbors to hear you here. 

You slink back up to sit and Steve’s fingers fall to your hips. Your pelvis rolls into his. Again when he shudders. 

“Shit,” he sighs. 

“Feel good?”

His eyes disappear behind his lashes, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. “Mhmm.” 

You continue to work him through his briefs, a slow back and forth forming a hot puddle between your own legs. With one hand propped against his sternum, you force your eyes over to the stacks upon stacks of moving boxes in the room. 

“Condoms… condoms.” 

Steve almost misses your mumbling– and to his credit, you’re talking more to yourself than him– but he blinks out of his daze and sighs vaguely at the nearest box. “Fuck. Bathroom, maybe.” 

Not ideal. 

“Think I have one in my purse,” you remember, swaying heavily to the side to scan the floor beside the mattress. 

Steve’s hands fly to your waist to balance you as he huffs. “You mean your bottomless pit?” 

“Don’t shame me. It comes in handy.” The bottomless pit in question is spotted, half buried under yesterday’s clothes across the room. “One sec’.”

Steve grumbles as you climb off of him. But his heart turns in his chest as you saunter off. His love for you is always there. It’s the shape of you as you crouch, how you tip your purse upside down and fan the contents out across the floor with a hum. 

“Aha.” You pop up, waving a glossy, square packet as you skip your way back. “My trusty bottomless pit saves the day.”

You clamber back on top of him clumsily, planting yourself in his lap like he’s no more fragile than the kitchen barstool. 

Steve groans under his breath. You’ve got him really wound up and his patience is thinning. 

Your hips roll into his again, the curve of his cock a strong silhouette through two sticky layers of fabric. You scoot back on his thighs and palm him with modest pressure. 

“Babe,” he shudders, thumbs pawing the sides of your underwear again. “Please.” 

“So impatient,” you tease. 

You watch him intently. How his nostrils flare the second you break the seal between his hot skin and the band of his underwear. How his eyebrows crinkle together as you push the cotton down his thighs. 

His cock bobs free before you take it gently by the base. Steve’s not just a pretty face, and he’s not cocky for no reason. He’s well-endowed, a dusty shade of pink blended tan into the dark curls at his hilt. 

“Fuck, baby.” 

He shifts his gaze past you because he’s certain if you make eye contact with him this’ll be the shortest sex of his life. And even the half-blurry blob of you in his peripherals is still too fucking enticing. He forces his eyes up at the popcorn ceiling and traces the shapes in his mind. 

You spread the pearl of precum down a vein on the side of his cock, using the slip to tug him a handful of times. The slick dissolves, and your hand catches twice before you’re getting ready to spit in it.  

But Steve whines, “Need to feel you.” 

Your hand stops but the pad of your pinky trails a sneaky line from tip to base. “My hands not enough for you, Stevie?” 

“Not gonna– mm– last.” 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” 

You mean it rhetorically but he quickly shakes his head no. You forget how much you enjoy being in charge until you have Steve squirming under you. 

You stabilize yourself on his chest, hiking one leg up at a time until you’re underwear have been flung to the floor. The slick between your folds is more palpable as you sit back on his thighs, hot skin to hot skin. 

His eyelids flutter closed as you roll the condom on. He’s flushed up to his ears, breath nimble off his open mouth. 

“Ready?” 

He nods like you’ve asked something outrageously silly. 

You guide the head of his cock up to your folds, sinking down in one tedious stride. It’s a good kind of ache, scratching the deepest part of your tummy. 

His hips jerk involuntarily as you release your full weight onto them, his nails leaving crescents on your skin. “‘M not gonna last,” he warns again. 

“I’ll go slow.” 

It’s not much consolation. No matter what you do to him, he’s not gonna last. You’re too damn irresistible for your own good. 

You rock your hips forward and back in a continuous cycle. The pace is indulgent, just slow enough to make things last. Your eyes unfocus, your head tipping back. Every drag squeezes the coil in your stomach tighter. 

Steve’s eyes flick to yours, his voice wavering as he mumbles, “Tease me too much.”

“I do?”

“Mhmm.”

You smile softly at him and his eyes jump away. He’s drawing loopy patterns into the meat of your thigh to distract himself. And it doesn’t help when you cover his hand and sweep your thumb across every digit. He’s so focused on not blowing his load that he can’t even speak. 

You pause your rhythm and hum to yourself before continuing. “Know what I just realized.”

“Hmm?”

“Forgot the shower curtain.”

Steve exhales hard, words sticking to his teeth.“We’ll get a new one.” 

“I really liked that one.”

He can’t think straight long enough to tell if you’re purposely trying to distract him or not and he doesn’t care all that much either way. He just needs you to be the same level of fucked that he is. 

His hand trembles over to your pubic bone, thumb snaking right up to your clit. 

You nod as he presses. Right there. 

He rubs slow circles, a spark of pleasure each time he closes a loop. 

“Fuck,” you drawl simultaneously. 

You laugh, blissfully unaware as your muscles clamp around his cock. 

But Steve’s fingers pause on your clit, his other hand tense at your hip. “Don’t,” he shudders out. 

You close your mouth, a soft little apology grin that sends Steve’s stomach flipping. He’s so fucking in love it’s not even funny. 

“Sit on my face.”

You hum, so high on cloud nine you’re sure you’ve misheard him. 

“Let me taste you.”

Your breath stutters. He’s serious. 

“Come here,” he’s pushing you up and off him before you have much of a chance to process it. “Wanna make you feel good.” 

Your cheeks burn a hot shade of embarrassment, your tongue suddenly too heavy in your mouth. You wriggle up his body, guided by the relentless hands on the backs of your thighs. Steve’s eaten you out, but not like this. 

“Steve,” you manage. 

“What?” He knows you better than he’s known anyone in his life. He feels your shaking and he hears the rampant doubts coursing your mind. “I want to,” he promises, pressing a long, love-packed kiss to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

You’re unconvinced. You’re certain you’ll break his face the second you sit down. You’ll be so mortified you’ll have to break up with him if he doesn’t first. You’ll have to sell the house before you’ve even unpacked–

“Please?”

He’s not trying to be pushy or even funny as he bats his eyes. He just so genuinely craves to see you unravel in the same way you’ve spun him around. And yeah, he has a sweet set of brown eyes. Sue him. He loves you too much to look at you with any less adoration. 

You nod emphatically. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve been this nervous about sex with Steve, but you’ve learned just about everything there is to know about him since. You trust him in every capacity, especially in bed.   

He nips his way up your thigh, pulling you lower and lower until his breath is hot on your cunt. Steve licks a wide stripe up to your clit, sucking before swirling his tongue around the sensitive hood. And then his mouth starts lapping you like you’re his last meal. 

Your fist jerks, fingers knotted through the hair on his scalp, and he moans. You don’t hear it over the wet smacking as much as you feel it, the vibrations sending pleasure through you like a pulse. 

His tongue drives you to a mess. He’d push you completely over the edge if you didn’t stop him.

“Okay, okay,” you gasp, pushing up onto your knees. “We’re even.” 

He smirks and strokes down the backs of your calves. “Are we competing?” 

“You seem to think so.” 

He shimmies to a sit with an arm around your waist and bestows you with a fleeting kiss, lips washed with the taste of your juices. “Lay down.”

How the fuck could you say no to such a pretty face? 

You scooch down, face up on the sheets. Steve parts you by the ankles and crawls up your body, planting kisses like seeds. His teeth graze the inside of your wrist before he stretches it up and flat against the mattress above your head. 

Your fingers thread through his, his other hand steadying his cock at your entrance. He swipes the head up and down your wet folds before sliding in with a groan. There’s less resistance this time, a fluid in and out to his hips. 

His thrusts are languid. He indulges more closely in the taste of your mouth and the balmy feel of your waist. 

The winding in your tummy resumes, your fingers naturally finding your clit while Steve rocks into you. A heavier thrust and your lips detach, Steve’s rehoming to the skin beneath your jaw. He picks up his pace, puffing and panting into your neck in short bursts. 

Your legs wrap around his, the heel of your foot digging into his lower back. “Mm– Steve.”

“Yeah?” he huffs. 

“Mhmm.”

If the sounds you’re making are anything to go by, Steve thinks he’s doing a pretty good job. And you know he’s just as close to cumming. You know his little sounds and twisty little expressions like the back of your hand. How his stomach tenses and his breath catches. 

You burn the entirety of this to your brain, rubbing yourself faster, more in time with his movements. 

“‘M close,” he says, desperate and hopeful that you are too. 

You nod, focused on the high climbing higher each second. 

His hips stutter when you clench around him. The coil releases and you come undone simultaneously. 

“Fuck, ah– fuck,” he whines, sharp but breathy in your ear.  

Your fingers slow and his thrusts wane and the pleasure softens. Steve wobbles down onto you as gently as he can, taking your interlaced hand between your bodies. Your hearts kiss with each rise and fall of your chests. Steve mouths over the most accessible bit of skin under your ear, thumb sweeping the gentlest curves around your face. 

You exhale into his crown, raking a hand through the dark mop of curls damp at his nape. Your other eases down his back, savoring the contraction of his muscles as he breathes. You travel down the curve of his ass and give him a firm squeeze. “How’s your ass? Still sore?” 

He huffs at you, nose crushed to your neck. “I fall down one flight of stairs and I never hear the end of it.” 

“I told you to be careful.” 

“I was being– whatever.” His thumb continues to caress your jaw, his lips idle on your neck. 

This is Steve’s favorite part of sex. To hold and to be held, easing off a high that’s miles better than a good smoke. There’s nothing greater. 

“Should I check for bruises?” 

“If you kiss ‘em better.” 

Your chest aches with the sweet swell of laughter. Steve’s your person. You realize it time and time again. 

He peels himself off like you're double-sided tape. His hair’s still crazy despite your finger-combing and his eyes are just as heavy as they were when he woke up. He slides out of you with a hiss, sitting back to knot the condom and toss it toward a pile of bubble wrap. 

He looks back at you fondly. “Shower?” 

You shake your head. “Just lay with me.” 

“Downstairs isn’t gonna unpack itself, you know.”

“Shut up.” You palm his chest until he lays and you throw an arm across his middle. “This was your evil plan all along.” 

He chuckles, taking your hand to massage between both of his. “I’m just the worst aren’t I?” 

[00valentina-writes00]

Could you do Ambessa and Sevika with a reader who's really introverted? Thank youu🫂❤️

♡♥︎ 𝕊𝔼𝕍𝕀𝕂𝔸 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕄𝔹𝔼𝕊𝕊𝔸 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥 ♥︎♡

♡𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕜𝕒♡

♥��� Sevika respects your need for space. She’ll give you the quiet moments you crave, but she also won’t hesitate to check in, making sure you’re okay. She’s the type to simply sit beside you in silence, just feeling your presence without pushing for interaction.

♥︎ She’s not much for small talk, so she’s perfectly content with your more reserved conversations. She likes the deeper, meaningful moments, especially when you share something you’ve been thinking about in the comfort of silence.

♥︎ Sevika notices the subtle signs that you need time alone. She won’t ask questions—she’ll just leave you to your space without making you feel guilty about it. She knows when to give you space without making it an issue.

♥︎ When she does interact with you, it’s always in a way that feels comforting rather than overwhelming. Her low, steady voice helps keep your anxiety at bay, and she always speaks in a calm, no-nonsense tone.

♥︎ She understands when you don’t want to go out, and she’ll stay in with you. Whether that means watching something low-key or simply spending time in each other’s company without the need for words, Sevika gets it.

♥︎ Despite her tough exterior, she’ll sometimes offer small, thoughtful gestures. Like making sure you have a hot drink or making your favorite meal, even if you never asked for it.

♥︎ She won’t push you to be more social. If you don’t want to deal with people, she’s more than happy to take care of things without dragging you into them. She values your peace and understands your boundaries.

♥︎ Sevika’s got a weirdly soft side when it comes to you. She’s the type to gently brush her fingers through your hair or rub your back when you’re feeling overwhelmed, always keeping it quiet and steady.

♥︎ She doesn’t make a big deal out of it when you’re not up for physical affection, but she makes sure you know she’s still there with a hand on your shoulder or a quiet touch when you need it.

♥︎ At times, she’ll give you a look, almost like she’s checking if you’re okay. She’s so observant, catching even the smallest shift in your mood. Sometimes, all it takes is a nod from you, and she’ll know how to adjust without saying a word.

♥︎ She’s a master at knowing when to be quiet and when to speak. If you’re deep in thought or in your head, she won’t try to force conversation—she lets you come to her when you’re ready

♥︎ Sometimes, when you’re feeling anxious, Sevika won’t ask what’s wrong. Instead, she’ll just do something familiar—like sitting with you, offering a cigarette, or doing something that feels grounding for both of you.

♥︎ She’ll never judge you for being quiet or withdrawn. There’s no pressure to be anything other than yourself with her, and she’s one of the few people who sees the value in your silence.

♥︎ Despite her commanding presence, Sevika has a weird way of knowing exactly how to make you feel safe when you’re overwhelmed. It’s in the way she stands, the way she quietly observes, always creating space for you to be yourself without fear of judgment.

♥︎ She doesn’t mind if you’re the type to retreat into books, music, or your own thoughts. She’ll sit next to you, just existing with you, content that you’re sharing that space in your own way.

♥︎ Sevika understands your need for independence. She doesn’t try to fix everything. Instead, she lets you deal with things at your own pace, offering support only when you ask for it.

♥︎ When she sees you come out of your shell—even a little—she’s oddly proud of you. There’s a soft edge to her smirk when she catches you laughing or talking with someone. She’ll never outright compliment you on it, but you can tell she’s impressed.

♥︎ She’s the type of girlfriend who will insist you take breaks and step away from stress, but she’ll also respect it if you want to handle things on your own. It’s all about balance for her.

♥︎ When you get overwhelmed in a crowd, Sevika will always find a way to get you out of there. Whether it’s making an excuse to leave early or simply pulling you to the side for a quick exit, she’s got you.

♥︎ She knows you might prefer just one-on-one time, so she’ll do what she can to make sure you’re never pressured into group settings that make you uncomfortable.

♥︎ Sevika’s loyalty runs deep. When you’re down, she’ll stay by your side, a steady presence in the background, quietly supportive, offering you the space you need while also being there when you want her.

♥︎ Finally, she’s the kind of partner who’s happy to let you be exactly who you are—quiet, introverted, and uniquely you. She appreciates your calm, your quiet strength, and the way you help her see the world from a different perspective.

♡𝔸𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒♡

♥︎ While Ambessa is commanding and often larger-than-life in her presence, she knows how to make you feel safe in your introversion. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, she’ll create a space where it’s just the two of you, letting you retreat into the comfort of silence.

♥︎ When you’re too tired to talk, Ambessa will gently remind you that you don’t need to say anything—your presence alone is enough for her. She understands that sometimes, silence speaks volumes.

♥︎ If you’re ever feeling drained after a long day, Ambessa will offer you her company without demanding anything from you. She might pour you a drink, sit beside you, and simply exist in your space without pressuring you to be anything other than yourself.

♥︎ She’ll occasionally tease you, but it’s always lighthearted and with affection. She enjoys seeing the subtle shifts in your expression when you try to hide your smile or laughter at her dry wit.

♥︎ Ambessa knows the value of personal time, and she’s perfectly content with letting you retreat into your own thoughts. She’ll never take it personally if you need space; she understands that your quiet moments are just as important as your shared moments.

♥︎ When you’re feeling particularly introverted, she’ll find ways to give you space while still being close. She might work nearby, allowing you to feel her presence without being forced to interact if you’re not up for it.

♥︎ Ambessa will sometimes look at you in a way that says everything—those deep, knowing glances that speak volumes without words. She’s incredibly perceptive and can sense when you’re feeling overwhelmed without you saying a thing.

♥︎ If you need a break from the chaos around you, Ambessa will ensure that you can escape to a quieter place. Whether it’s her private office or just a secluded corner, she’ll make sure there’s peace for you when you need it.

♥︎ When she knows you’re feeling anxious or stressed, Ambessa will offer her hand or give you a touch of reassurance. She’s not the type to force conversation, but her touch is often all you need to feel grounded again.

♥︎ Despite her intimidating persona, she’ll soften her voice when she speaks to you, knowing that you’re more comfortable when things aren’t too loud or intense. Her words come with purpose, but also a gentleness that helps ease your mind.

♥︎ Ambessa doesn’t mind when you’re introverted around others. She’s proud of your calm, quiet strength, and she’ll often give you a knowing look, silently acknowledging that you’re doing just fine without saying a word.

♥︎ She enjoys watching you in your element when you’re doing something you love, whether it’s reading, sketching, or simply taking a walk alone. Her gaze is full of quiet admiration as she watches you retreat into your thoughts, appreciating the depth of who you are.

♥︎ When you’re not feeling like talking, Ambessa will give you small affirmations to remind you that you’re valued. It might be a compliment, a small smile, or simply a soft “I’m proud of you” when you least expect it.

♥︎ Ambessa knows how to read your body language, and she can tell when you’re beginning to feel drained. When that happens, she’ll shift gears and create a more private, calming environment for you without making it awkward

♥︎ If you’re having trouble navigating a social event or gathering, Ambessa will be your rock. She’ll make sure you don’t feel pressured to perform socially, and she’ll give you an out if you need one.

♥︎ When you do choose to open up, Ambessa listens with unwavering attention. She never interrupts, never judges, and always values the words you do share. Her silence in those moments is the most supportive kind of presence.

♥︎ Ambessa is fiercely protective of your peace. If anyone or anything threatens to disturb your calm, she’s quick to put it in its place. She’ll handle it quietly, often with a few choice words, making sure your introverted nature isn’t pushed out of balance.

♥︎ She’ll often surprise you with small gifts or gestures that show she’s thinking of you. A book she thinks you’d love, a quiet walk around the city, or even a cup of tea with your favorite flavor—it’s her way of showing she cares without overwhelming you.

♥︎ When you need to recharge, Ambessa will make sure to give you the time you need. She won’t pressure you to interact with her or others, knowing that sometimes the best way to show affection is by letting you be yourself.

♥︎ She’s not the type to need constant reassurance, but she’ll make sure you feel seen. When you’re with her, it’s like nothing else matters; it’s just the two of you, with her providing the kind of quiet strength that balances out your own.

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 2 - Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomfiore]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi?

AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Azul is no stranger to visiting different shops to stay on top of trends. Valentine's Day wasn't something they had in the Coral Sea so this trip was more for the experience than anything. He's taking in the overwhelming but impressive amount of red, pink, and white decorations while trying to look at the other shoppers out of the corner of his eye.

What are they buying? What's most popular?

The holiday seems too brief to plan a full menu, or even to-go specials. Maybe he can do something next year.

There's an emphasis on chocolates and sweets. He's not even eating any of it and his teeth hurt! The small chocolate assortments make more sense than the huge brick of chocolate--dark chocolate?--several Pomfiore students are planning to split between themselves. His stomach hurts at the thought of trying to eat even a third of what they're holding.

In his opinion it's an unimpressive holiday. A marketable one for sure, but unimpressive. Clearly it's meant for the nice, sentimental, mushy people out there.

Not to say there's no one he'd spoil. No one he cares about. Matter of fact, he's got something crunchy in his basket for Floyd! And if it weren't for his mother living underwater, she might like some of these cutesy knickknacks! A set of cookie cutters catch his eye and Azul throws them in his basket without thinking.

Damn hand-brain.

He stares into his own basket, wondering what the justification is. There's a part of his brain saying he doesn't need a reason but he's not an impulsive person. He's a practical person and the practical reason he needs those cookie cutters is to make cookies for the lounge in case any poor soul misses their chance to get something from Sam's!

Yes. Yes, that's it.

He may or may not be trying to tell you he likes you by collecting heart-shaped things. You'll check him out at the register and he'll just keep handing you heart things. Offering his heart over and over.

Not that you'd know. Azul doesn't have the guts to tell you yet. He's got three hearts but no guts.

It's just not the right time, he tells himself. Not the right way.

He puts sprinkles and chocolate stirring spoons into his basket. There's a little mushroom figurine that has white hearts instead of the usual spots. That's for Jade.

Azul weaves between the shelves to get to the refrigerated section, buying a couple of cartons of milk and ice cream. He's not fast but he's stronger than he looks. Aside from the work in his mother's restaurant in the Coral Sea, cooking on land has cultured a lot of muscle in unexpected ways--straining full stockpots, blending quarts of sauces, roasting whole chickens, and hefting huge fish onto the cutting board for portioning. It'll be nothing to carry it all back.

He just doesn't like to do it. And he doesn't like to lose his voice or go completely pink in front of you, but he does. Azul tries to look without looking, charmed by the glittery dangle in your hair and how it brings out the color of your eyes.

Then, he hears it. "How much do you cost?"

It is not enough to beg his pardon. The Seven must also be begged.

A fury whips up inside of him. He's furious that it's just so easy for that lander to chat you up. He's furious that he's not confident enough to do it when he's been drowning in these feelings for weeks. The manager part of his brain kicks in and he becomes furious that you're being accosted on the clock.

SAM WOULD NEVER, BUT WHERE IS HE?! STAFF SHOULD NOT BE MADE TO ENDURE SUCH CONDITIONS!

"Hardly appropriate for the occasion, don't you think?" Azul has stepped in with his signature smooth smile and calm demeanor. He has no cane, hat, or coat at the moment but he knows he makes people uncomfortable without them. There's something about him that makes people nervous. The pecking dread of 'he's human but not totally human' makes them jumpy and very prey-like.

"I-I was just messing around," the guy deflects.

"There's a time and a place. Unfortunately, it's not here and not now. You're interrupting the flow of business and I don't think the other patrons are happy," Azul hums a little as he and the abysmal Casonova look back at all the people in line. They are, in fact, not happy.

"I'll just go." he grabs the change bashfully and doesn't look back.

Azul thanks the person who let him cut in line, half wondering if said person will come back and try to coax a favor out of him. "Thanks, Azul." you smile at him.

"You're most welcome." Azul adjusts his glasses before layering the bags on his arms. You help him with the door. "I'd be happy to treat you to a milkshake. You know, something sweet to make up for whatever THAT was." he gestures to the guy in the distance.

WHY IS HE TALKING? WHY DID HE KEEP TALKING? THE LEGS NEED TO MOVE BUT THEY'RE NOT!

"Sounds great! I'll stop by after my shift."

"Okay," his voice cracks a bit but you don't hear it because the door's already closed. He breaths a sigh of relief.

----

Floyd was sent to pick through the pink and red chaos at Sam's while Jade and Azul redecorated for a Valentine's special at the lounge. It was a last-minute idea inspired by the deluge of advertising. They'd gotten bigger things in town like tablecloths and fancy napkins but smaller treats were lacking. He was tasked with getting melting chocolates and pre-made stuff to balance out the strawberries and fresh groceries they bought.

A big, aggravated sigh passed through his sharp teeth. The line is long and he doesn't really want to do this. Floyd feels his brain shutting off as his looks at heart streamers and silver-and-pink tinsel. At least I won't have to slave over a hot burner all night, Floyd sighs again as he looks at the goods and wonders what would make Azul happy.

The menu will be limited. Each item is heart-shaped, sweet, or both. It honestly just sounds like an excuse to sell people overpriced sugar.

Floyd buys a couple packs of melting chocolates in different colors and some crunchy sour candies for the trouble. Jade sends him a text asking him to grab a couple of cans of whipped cream for the pancakes and crepes. He steps out of line, grabs the cans, and pauses when he hears the guy shoot his shot.

"How much do you cost?"

Really?

Landers are so weird. They don't seem to have any conditions for mating. Why would you entertain this dude when he hasn't shown you he could provide or protect you? Spending money to buy things so he could talk to you isn't the way to provide. Buying your time is no different than those underwater pricks trying to curry his dad's favor with gifts.

It's disingenuous and disgusting.

"I don't see a 'for sale' sign. Can't buy it if it's not advertised." Floyd frowns at the little worm in front of him, sharp teeth poking out beneath his upper lip. "That's how shops work if you didn't know." Floyd laughs.

He was stupid enough to ask you out so he might be too stupid to realize why that pickup line didn't work.

"R-Right." the guy nods, swallowing thickly. Floyd was absently rolling his shoulder, annoyed with how long he'd held the basket. The guy noticed his working muscle and booked it, grabbing most of his change. A coin skipped off the counter, twinkling under the lights. Giggling to himself, Floyd stooped to pocket the change.

"Heya Shrimpy,"

"Hey Floyd," you started scanning the basket of items.

"Ya hungry? It's pretty busy in here."

"A little." you admitted. "But I'll be off soon. I can go back to Ramshackle and make something."

"Nah, come to the Lounge! We're doing specials for groups and couples."

"Does Grim count?" you give a little laugh. Azul lets him in sometimes depending on his attitude. At the very least, he'll let Grim get something to go.

"You get the best deal if you go with me. I'll buy your whole meal." Floyd wiggles his eyebrows at you playfully. His gold eye shines.

"Oh! I like that! I'll bite!"

"A bit early for that but I'll see you there." Floyd knows what he said has confused you. You landers aren't really keen on stuff from the Coral Sea but that's okay. He had a date with you and that's what matters.

----

Jade isn't quite sure what Sam's inventory will hold but he's been tasked with finding interesting things for the Lounge. Pink things, shiny things, profitable things--anything. Azul is convinced it will give him an edge over other places to eat. Never mind the fact that convenience is key and the students don't want to pay for the bus fare or compete with crowds in town.

He peruses the chocolate molds and candy necklaces, amused by the fact you can wear it and eat it. What a novel idea! Sam put a few types of tea on reserve for him and Jade knew they were pretty shades of pink and blue when brewed so that was something. The mer picks up a box of crunchy straw-like things and puts them in the basket. If they don't work as real straws, they can be milkshake accents.

Loaf cakes catch his eye. You could get at least ten slices out of each; top them with a bit of ice cream and you have a cheap but elegant-looking dessert. He puts a few in the basket. Teas considered, Jade is confident in his choices and ready to check out.

"Oya oya? What's this?" Jade's golden eye pierces the spineless lander in front of him. Did his ears deceive him or were you being accosted by unworthiness? "Do repeat yourself. I'm interested."

It sounds like an ask but it's not. It's a demand. A demand for this man to prostrate himself as an apology for his inferiority. For the gall to so much as breathe in your presence.

A punishment for conceiving the notion to approach you, he supposes. A light punishment, all things considered. Jade was capable of far more than some casual embarrassment, after all. His smile was polite but his words were anything but. "Go on. You may not have their full attention but you have mine."

"J-Just forget I said anything, okay?" the guy completely ignores him to whimper to you. He snatches whatever he bought so quick Jade doesn't know what it was.

No matter.

"Hello there," Jade smiles down at you. You definitely fit the holiday theme. Oh! Does that mean he should take you back to the lounge? You're interesting and that fits Azul's criteria.

Yes, he thinks you'd be perfect in the lounge.

"Hi Jade." you pack his items away dutifully. You bag the teas carefully.

Pink and shiny--yes, you must come to the lounge.

"Seeing as you're working for Sam today, I'd love for you to stop by and try these teas. I'm sure he'll appreciate feedback from more than just myself."

"I can make time for tea."

"Perfection."

----

Kalim is admiring the myriad of pinks and reds, bracelets and bangles jingling as he skips into Sam's. Valentine's Day is an interesting holiday. It's practically bursting at the seams with color and he's delighted to know red features heavily. The holiday is practically made to host in Scarabia!

Maybe they could make a red-inspired menu? A red and pink menu? He can't really think of foods that would fit the theme and he'd rather not give Jamil a stomach ache trying all of the chocolate things in here. Kalim trots off to look at the flowers and trinkets, just narrowly avoiding Jamil's stern grab. "Don't run off without me!" Jamil chastises, Kalim giving a half-hearted hum as he analyzed a pair of gold and red earrings.

They weren't cheap but they weren't expensive, either. The price point was fair, Kalim thought. Being who he was, he'd learned to tell the quality of gems and gold from a young age.

Would you like jewelry? He's never seen you wear jewelry. Kalim has bugged Jamil about you a million times, bouncing ideas off of him until he was so frustrated he left the room.

"I think they'd appreciate food more, given their circumstances." Jamil puts the earrings back on the shelf.

"But I always give them food, Jamil! Don't you think they want something different?"

"You're overthinking, Kalim," Jamil taps him in the forehead with a finger. "People are simple. Give them food and attention."

"I would've taken them out on a carpet ride but someone hid my carpet." even when Kalim was trying to cut his red eyes and look peeved, it didn't work. His face was too round and cherubic for it.

"I don't trust that thing," Jamil huffs, guiding him back to the line.

Kalim listens to people talk about plans to split chocolates and call relatives to see what they'd like and a sad pang cuts through him.

Why isn't it that easy for him? He's got more money than people could ever dream of and yet he feels like he's not doing enough for you.

Not that you'd know what he's done for you. He hasn't exactly said he likes you yet. Surely he'd made it obvious with all the invites to Scarabia, right? You hadn't quite caught on to the grocery drops yet but he understands the confusion; Crowley took credit for at least one of those and Kalim was not happy.

"I see an empty-handed Imp!" Sam makes him and Jamil jump. "Are my wares not enough for you, Little One?" he tuts at Kalim's empty hands.

"Oh there's lots of cool stuff!" Kalim promises, smiling brightly. "I just have to be careful about what I eat!"

"What about some roses? Those are popular! They're up there by the register. And we have small fruit arrangements in the refrigerated section, of course."

"Actually, we're just here to deliver an invitation." Jamil redirects Kalim when he seems to be thinking about going to the refrigerated section.

"We could get some festive napkins!" Kalim is leafing through packs of heart designs and colors. Sam seems satisfied. Jamil heaves an irritated sigh as the store owner moves on to his next mark.

Kalim almost drops the napkins when he hears what the guy said to you. It takes Jamil by surprise, too. Jamil starts to panic when Kalim doesn't move; Kalim's outbursts were rare but even rarer were the moments he just froze.

A frozen Kalim means he's contemplating. Dipping his toes into the side of himself he doesn't ever show because it disgusts and disappoints him. The young boy squares his shoulders and raises his head in a way that proves he was raised with etiquette and presence. It's the walk of someone unconcerned because he has so much money that nothing is a problem.

Quick as a flash that cunning, stewing heaviness disappears. Kalim hooks his arm around the guys neck, taking him by surprise. Disarmed by his sunny grin and stunned by his boldness, he stumbles over to a wall of cards. Jamil slithers through the aisles and positions himself just so to listen.

In these rare moments, when Kalim puts on that face, they think alike. Kalim hates these moments because it shows him that people just want money. That they'll trip over themselves for enrichment, compromising morals and anything else as long as the price is right.

But this time it works in his favor.

"Instead of asking how much they cost," the sunniness slowly drains from Kalim's voice, "ask yourself how much it would cost for you to leave them alone. Like, not ask them out again. At all. Ever."

It's the first time someone at NRC realizes Kalim's not all sunshine and rainbows. And that his pampered life hasn't left him completely soft. Kalim had to go through the same training Jamil did, being the heir to a massive fortune and all. He needs to be able to hold his own even though he shouldn't expect to.

Only he and Jamil know some of his rings are hollow and hold poisons. The guy doesn't know how close he is to said poisons.

"Y'know, it's, uh..it's on me. Free." the guy squeaks out, dipping out from under Kalim's arm.

Content, Kalim skips up to you and hands you the decorated envelope with gold calligraphy. "Please come to my party!" he looks at you hopefully, eyes shining.

"I would love to! You know I love your parties!"

"Perfect! I'll pick you up when you're done, okay?" Kalim waves to you.

"KALIM DON'T LEAVE! WE HAVE TO PAY FOR THE NAPKINS! COME BACK!" Jamil has no idea how many sets of napkins he just left with. "Keep the change," he breaths, darting after him.

----

Jamil was taking a rare moment to himself. Lilia and Cater promised they'd keep Kalim occupied for a little while so he could take a breather. They both understood what it was like to look after people, even if it wasn't as serious or to the same degree. The Pop Music Club sessions were normally two hours long, so he had time. Kalim had been yammering nonstop about the Sam's Valentine's setup so Jamil promised to take a look on his behalf.

He grew up around unfathomable finery, almost indulgent to the point of foolishness. Gold forks, gold plates, a knife handle carved from a tree in the Sunset Savanna and inlaid with diamonds--you name it. Perhaps that was why nothing caught his eye, Jamil thought.

So many people were excited about it, though. He had to put himself in their shoes. Their average shoes, just like he was forced to be average lest Kalim feel inadequate.

Poor thing, Jamil rolled his eyes. He was a pro at filtering out noise thanks to Kalim and his ridiculous number of siblings. It was easy to let his brain go and really look at the trinkets and seasonal food. Loathe as he was to admit, some of this stuff was cute.

Jamil let himself bask in the happiness. The freedom.

This is what he wanted for himself one day--traveling, seeing the sights, sampling unusual foods at special times of the year.

Maybe this wasn't so silly after all.

He picked up a few packets of instant curry, only what he felt he could eat and dispose of before fetching Kalim. Curry was a huge weakness of his and he hated that Kalim practically banned it. The amount of caffeine and tea he drank probably bordered on unhealthy (or at least deserved research) but it didn't stop him from throwing a canned coffee into his basket. Because he liked his curry savory and hot, he threw in a strawberry-rose milk drink. It seemed interesting.

Jamil felt the crick in his neck when he snapped his head up in disbelief. Who was this nobody asking you out?!

HOW MUCH DO YOU COST?!

With no Kalim here to temper him, to distract him or force him into the mediocrity, Jamil thought of letting go and lighting the guy up just because.

It really was appalling, his approach. Nothing to offer? What talents or skills did he have? What made him so special, more special than anyone else at NRC?

Nothing, that's what. He probably didn't even know HALF of what Jamil did!

"More than you will ever earn," Jamil answered him. "I'm sure your capacity to make money is on the same pitiful level as your self-awareness. Or do you need glasses to see they're not interested?"

He was known for his biting wit so this was nothing out of character. The way he stared into the boy as if to set him on fire might have been, had no one ever seen him try to get Floyd to cooperate in Basketball Club.

He'd earned his Viper namesake, the boy's ego clearly bitten and bruised as he dragged himself away. His words were deadly, much like Viper venom. Jamil didn't bother watching him leave, setting his basket quietly on the counter and taking out the items.

"Thank you."

All of that venom suddenly dried up. Jamil was feeling quite shy and toothless, not that he'd ever admit it. If he looked up at you, he knew he'd be done for. He could feel his neck heating up.

Unable to resist poking a little fun at him--when did you ever see him blush?--you handed him the change and slapped a smiley face sticker on the back of his hand.

IT HAD HEART EYES!

"I have to go." Jamil took off.

----

Vil was disciplined ninety-five percent of the time so he could indulge the other five percent. Rook all but dragged him to Sam's, waxing poetic about the holiday in all it's pink, sugary glory. He even made Vil promise not to look at any labels while he shopped. Or he could just compromise and let Rook buy him one sweet that he would have to eat no matter what.

That didn't seem too bad, so Vil conceded. Live a little, right?

Several companies had reached out to him in the beginning of February but their products were gluttonous and made him feel sick just looking at them. He felt like he'd be doing his followers a disservice to promote them because they just looked like death in a package. The only one he'd considered so far was a juice from an organic company called 'Beautiful Blends'.

No, not because they had beautiful in the name. The ingredients were organic--he researched the farms--and they had a nutritionist and dietician developing the blends. They had a blend for energy, immune support, digestion, and even one for headache relief. He was interested in the actual beauty blend; it had strawberry, coconut milk, collagen, and several other things he was interested in. It was a milky pink and perfect for Sam to sell during Valentine's Day.

NRC wasn't exactly health-minded outside of Pomfiore so he wasn't worried about missing out. He broke off from Rook, moving with grace and purpose to the refrigerated section. Vil took a split second to admire his reflection in the glass door, satisfied with his skin and the loose hair that escaped his half-bun but had the courtesy to frame his face despite its disobedience. His ring and nails clinked against the glass bottle but he paid it no mind.

"Would you like a basket?" Rook offered his. Vil peered curiously into said basket, unsurprised to see other flavors of Beautiful Blends in there. Rook knew him eerily well. Maybe he knew which ones he'd like to try. He also knew Vil was against overconsumption and wouldn't buy them all at once nor of his own volition.

"I'm fine, thanks." Vil smiled at him, appreciating his constant presence. His discipline and tenacity tended to chase a lot of people away but not Rook. There were people who appreciated him for his routines and followed him loyally, but not like Rook.

Rook wasn't just a 'yes' man. He was Vil's balance in every aspect. As if to prove that, he took the Beautiful Blend from Vil and put it in the basket. Vil didn't like his hands getting wet because that messed with the lotion he applied and it left a weird film on his hands the rest of the day.

"I just said--I BEG YOUR PARDON?" Vil was caught off guard by the flirtation and couldn't believe his ears. It was rare for anyone to surprise him but some NOBODY is trying to make nice with HIS POTATO?!

AS IF!

All he can manage is, "HOW GAUCHE!" as he breezes to the front of the line and stares at the man, absolutely floored. This moment would be a permanent reference for any scene where he needed to look surprised. And lost for words.

And disgusted. And furious.

"You don't think we'd make a cute couple?" the guy teases.

"You want to know what I think?" Vil proceeds to systematically point out the guy's flaws--posture, hair, that one zit coming up in the middle of his forehead--before pointing out that his greatest offense is his sheer selfishness. He's selfish for putting you in a situation where you might cave under peer pressure!

"That's enough, Roi du Poison," Rook shushed him, patting his arm and forcing it down so Vil quit pointing at the little gremlin. If he didn't stop him, he'd keep going. Rook was secretly glad he'd grabbed the Beauty Blend out of his hand earlier; if he was any more worked up it might've gone across the guy's head.

The guy was stunned by the takedown. Vil pointed out things he hadn't thought about. Things he was already insecure about (Vil could tell). "Apologize!" Vil barked in that Housewarden voice.

"I'm sorry." the guy left with whatever trash he bought.

Vil took a moment to compose himself, hands on his hips as he watched the gremlin leave. Fully relaxed, Vil walked to the counter and motioned for Rook to hand him the basket. He set everything out like nothing happened.

"Thank you, Vil."

"It was nothing." he clicked his tongue, waving his hand dismissively.

"Not to me."

Oh, you're clever. And honest. And cute. Maybe he'll drop a hint about his crush in his next interview. Rook forgets he knows French, too, and Vil smashes his hat down on his head on the off chance you know what 'he wants to love you and hug you and kiss you' is in French.

----

It's only natural that Rook would show up for the Valentine's Day sale. He is, after all, a lover of love. Sam never fails to disappoint with his wares and Rook is having a grand time perusing the aisles. There's copious amounts of candy, thoughtful cards, card games for couples, and fill-in-the-blank books with cute phrases and poems!

"You're mine," he smiles at said book, putting it in his basket. There's condensed versions of romantic classics and, had he not read them a million times before, that would be in his basket too. He picks up a pair of heart-shaped glasses for Vil. The desire for liver pate rises in him and he doubles back to check the canned meats. Midway through his careful search, he hears the...attempt...at woo.

A sad, beautiful, nervous attempt.

Rook rises to his full height, feather on his hat dancing almost indignantly as he moves to the front of the aisle. He has half a mind to huck that can of pate hard enough to scare the boy but that would not be very beaute of him.

"Mon amie," Rook drapes his arm around the boy's neck with a disappointed sigh, "There is much to teach you in when it comes to romance."

"Like what? I--" Rook knows that's rhetorical and the guy could care less what he's going to say but he uses his uniqueness to his advantage. He launches into a small monologue about how romance is considerate and kind, not brash and unrefined like that heartfelt confession. Love is delicate like morning dew and tender like the tempting embrace of your bed seconds before you have to get up for the day. Above all, love is knowing your partner in all aspects, which includes when things have gone too far and are not welcome.

Sure, a handful of people left the store entirely but mission accomplished. The guy left shortly after Rook subtly dragged his confession. Satisfied, Rook flashed you a kind smile and unpacked his basket.

"And sometimes love wears a purple hat with a little feather." you smirk at him.

"Oh, Trickster! My heart!" Rook places his hands on his cheeks, face a pretty pink that compliments his green eyes.

---

In the spirit of Valentine's Day, Vil loosened the reigns of Pomfiore's diet for the day. Epel wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and immediately set off for Sam's. With luck, he'd still have some meats on sale. The holiday was all about fluff and pink and sweets so he wasn't worried about missing out on macarons.

To his delight, there was a selection of macarons. He was in hog heaven! If anyone heard the noise he made, it was probably the deepest and most demented thing they'd heard since Vil got his paws on him and 'refined' him. Epel was going to eat himself sick and regret it in the morning but not right now.

He picked up a second basket just for meats, afraid to crush his beloved macarons. The hamburger buns could share a basket with them, but not the meats. Knowing he had a calorie pass for the day unleashed something primal in Epel. All of a sudden he had SO MANY IDEAS.

Bacon burger? Bacon burger.

Hell, he could even make himself a little less homesick and have a traditional Harvestinian breakfast! He put a small thing of breakfast sausages in the basket. The instant grits were a bit of an insult, as was the 'heat and eat' pulled pork but the portion was reasonable and it wouldn't be money down the drain if Vil confiscated it tomorrow.

His patience begins to thin as he waits in line. The baskets are heavy but they're nothing he can't handle, growing up on a farm and all. The line doesn't seem to be moving at all! What in tarnation?, Epel squints menacingly, leaning out of line to see what the hold up was.

DID THAT NOBODY JUST ASK HOW MUCH YOU COST?!

It's clear you're uncomfortable and even MORE clear that this dude is NOT GETTING THE HINT.

As someone who's been hit on more than he cared for, this makes him mad on a whole 'nother level. You're doing all the right things--redirecting, professional body language--but this guy thinks he's going to get his way.

He's not. Everyone knows it but no one's saying anything.

Well he's gonna. What would his grandma say if he just stood by in a situation like this? He puts his hair up in a ponytail and glares at the guy.

"Were you raised in a barn? Couldn't be because EVEN ANIMALS KNOW WHEN TO LEAVE ALONE AN' GIT!" he gets louder with each word, rolling ups his sleeves. He spares his meat basket a quick glance and picks up the still-cold bacon. It's firmer than the hamburger patties and could give a decent wallop. "GO ON NOW, GIT!" Epel brandishes the bacon.

The guy is understandably confused and concerned. Probably the first time he'd been threatened with cold food. If he wasn't going for beef and bacon, he would've snagged a bag of frozen chicken wings and really wailed on the guy.

"I SAID GIT!" Epel chases him out like the dog he is, the guy narrowly dodging a bacon smack.

Word was going to get back to Vil for sure but he didn't care.

"Looks like you're going to have a good time!" you ring up the meats.

"I'm a free man today! Of course I'm gonna have a good time!"

"Have a good day, Epel. Thanks for stopping by!"

"I...I'd have a better time if you wanted to come eat some of this with me. I-I was plannin' on inviting Jack and Deuce, too. And Ace. Ace likes hamburgers. Vil lets me grill outside of Pomfiore sometimes." he starts to ramble, voice getting smaller and smaller as he goes.

"Sure! I'll grab some drinks and stuff when I get off." you smile, double-bagging the meats.

He's red as an apple when he leaves and that'll get back to Vil, too, but he doesn't care.

[absurdthirst]

Stupid Cupid {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: FWB, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, hair pulling, hurt feelings, insults, canon-typical violence, mentions of prostitution, jealousy, embarrassment, Javi groveling, angry words, confessions, oral sex (female receiving), lingerie.

Comments: Valentine's Day turns into a disaster for Javi when he asks a dumb question like why would he take you out for the lover's holiday.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding tight just like you’ve discovered he enjoys. The kiss passed between you including little nips of teeth, especially by him that makes you moan every time. The room is hot, sticky from the way your bodies move together. Javi’s grunts are music to your ears as he thrusts into you, holding firm to your waist as if he’s scared you’re going anywhere. “Fuck, Javi.” You pant, tilting your head back as he kisses down your throat. You both need this, need the stress relief from the hectic and sometimes overwhelming job of hunting down Pablo Escobar.

He grinds deep into your cunt like it's his haven from the shit show constantly happening outside the four walls of your apartment. It's his sanctuary and he worships you as you let him take what he wants. He leaves indentations on your skin in places that can be concealed by your clothes but he nips whatever inch of skin he has access to. You moan when he adjusts the angle, hitting something that solidifies his identity to your neighbors - as if they don't hear the same cry nearly every night - and you tilt your head back, eyes squeezed shut. "There. Fuck. Right there baby." You plead breathlessly, needing him to keep that angle.

Javi grunts, teeth grinding as he concentrates on keeping that angle. He’s so fucking close to cumming but he wants you to cum with him. You two are so in sync, so tuned to each other. He knows your body as well as he knows his own. Your hand slides from his hair and to his shoulder, wrapping around the firm muscles on the broad length of them. “So close, baby, I’m gonna-“ your breath catches right before you cry out. Body stiffening underneath his and the walls of your cunt clamp down around him, soaking him in your pleasure.

He grunts at the way you squeeze him, his mind going blank to the pleasure of being inside you. Javier pants, his grip tightening as he rocks you on his cock while he clenches his jaw. "Hermosa. Fuck. Feel so goddamn good." He groans, thrusting a few more times until he can't take it anymore. He pushes deep, a low groan of your name echoing in the room while his cock pulses, painting your walls with his hot cum. You sigh, caressing his back as he leans forward to rest his sweaty forehead on your chest. 

“Perfect.” You giggle slightly, basking in the luxurious bliss after an orgasm. Soon you will get up and clean up and light a cigarette, but right now, all you can hear is your mingled panting breaths and the way your heart beats wildly in your chest.

He playfully shifts to bite your chin and you caress his cheek. He looks up at you and leans in to softly kiss you. After a moment, he pulls out of you and shifts to lay down, pulling you into his chest. He kisses your forehead and you curl around him, making him itch for a smoke since he’s so relaxed.

“Three times.” You huff, sliding your hand up his chest and down over the slightly soft pooch of his belly. He grumbles about needing to lay off the whiskey sometimes but you think that he is just perfect. “I don’t know how you are going to top that tomorrow.”

Javier snorts, closing his eyes to just enjoy the relaxation seeping into his bones, “I think I’ll manage. Know exactly what to press to make you fall apart for me.” He smirks, squeezing your ass as you curl around him. His other arm behind his head, and he opens his eyes to look down at you. “I think I’ll manage it.”

You smirk slightly, kissing his chest and humming. “After dinner?” You arch a brow. “I think I deserve more than whiskey for dinner for Valentine’s Day.” You’ve been sleeping together for nearly eight months, and it’s clear that you’ve fallen for your often curt partner, but he has moments where you swear that he adores you. You just want to do something like a normal couple for once, since you can’t openly date.

Javier can’t help it. He freezes under your touch, and he feels like he just swallowed a golf ball. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. He completely forgot about it. He hasn’t gotten a woman flowers or celebrated the holiday since Lorraine practically held a gun to his head and demanded he get her flowers. “Why would I take you to dinner?” He asks, confused and panicking a little that this isn’t just sex for you like he thought it was.

You had been expecting some smartass comment, a joke about buying you a sandwich or something. Not panic and….what sounded like disgust. You stiffen and pull away, finding abject horror in his eyes when you look at him. “Obviously you wouldn’t.” You huff, twisting around to climb out of the bed so you can flee into the bathroom.

He frowns, watching you march into the bathroom, and he takes that as his cue. He reaches for his pants from the floor, pulling the denim up his legs and he zips them up before he searches for his shirt. His heart pounds and he doesn’t know what to say when you come out of the bathroom minutes later to find him putting on his shoes.

You tighten the belt of your robe, not wanting to feel completely exposed. Instead of him waiting to explain for being an asshole, he’s getting ready to leave. You had wondered if you were being too pushy or maybe overreacting to everything until you saw him dressed. Your heart twists and feels like it’s breaking, but you just walk over to your dresser and pick up your pack of cigarettes. Pulling one out and lighting up, taking a long drag before you exhale. “You know where the door is.”

He stares at you, unsure of what he wants. Maybe he wanted you to scream at him, tell him he’s an asshole for not taking you to dinner after he’s fucked you nearly every night for months. He nods, reaching into his back pocket for his cigarettes and he places one in his mouth, patting his shirt for his lighter but he daren’t ask you for a light when you’re looking at him like you want to set him on fire. He leaves without another work, making his way back to his apartment to wonder what the fuck went wrong tonight.

“Fucking asshole.” You ignore the tears that are sliding down your cheeks as you smoke your cigarette, closing your eyes when you hear the door close with a soft click. Tomorrow is going to be miserable.

****

The next day, Javier arrives at the embassy and all he sees are fucking roses and chocolates and cards. Is he the only one who forgot Valentine’s Day? He grunts as he walks down the hall until he enters his office to find Steve fumbling through giving delivery instructions to a driver for a florist. He rolls his eyes and takes the phone, helping to give the man directions to their building and that’s when you walk in. His heart thumps in his chest and you don’t even look at him as you pull your office chair out.

“Morning Steve.” You offer when Murphy leans back in his chair and shoots you a good morning. “You look cheerful.” You tease. “Big plans with the wife?” The blonde man grins even wider and winks. “Hell yeah, I’m going to romance her tonight and make sure that I get laid.” It’s sweet how much the couple loves each other, even with all the shit you are dealing with. “What about Olivia?” You ask, knowing that dealing with the little girl they’ve adopted has been a big change for the young family. “I’ve got a neighbor we trust to watch her.”

“That’s good.” You smile as Steve looks proud of himself. Things have been rocky lately, but he’s hoping tonight will put them back on steady ground. “What about you?” He asks, glancing over at Javier but his question is towards you. He’s not stupid, he knows you two are sleeping together. Javi comes in smelling like your perfume way too often to not know. You are looking down at your paperwork, so you don’t see the look and you hum. “I’ve got a date with Thomas Moore tonight.” You announce. ��First date.”

Javier nearly drops the cigarette he’s smoking on his shirt, his eyebrows immediately raised. “From the CIA?” Steve asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. Surely Javier would be taking you for dinner after he’s fucked you for God knows how long. “Yep.” You pop the ‘p’ and Javier huffs as he snubs out his smoke. “Really? When did he ask you out?” Javier asks through slightly clenched teeth.

You shrug slightly. “He’s been asking me out for two months.” You admit. “But he called with some information that he thought I might be able to use last night, and asked again.” You know Javi cares more about the intel you might have gotten than anything else, so you shuffle through your reports. “I said yes.”

Javier taps his fingers on the table, curious why you’d never mentioned that Moore was asking you out. “What’s the intel?” He grunts, trying to show he’s not bothered even when his stomach is twisting in annoyance and jealousy.

You hum as you look through the papers, knowing that Javi is impatient for the information so you don’t rush. Wanting to make sure that it’s a solid lead. When you find the CentraSpy report you grin as you wave it towards Steve, ignoring Javi. “Blackie is making a drop off today. One of the safe houses we stopped surveilling.” You tell him, pushing out of your chair and grabbing your jacket. “Let’s hope he’s on time because I’m leaving early today.”

Steve nods, excitement on his face to finally get a lead after chasing tail for so goddamn long. Javier is more apprehensive. “You’re telling us you basically sold yourself for some intel.” Javier scoffs, crossing his arms after scratching his jaw. He didn’t have time to shave this morning since he barely slept, thinking about you. He doesn’t get up right away, watching Steve shrug on his jacket and he sighs, grabbing his pack of cigarettes as he stands.

You frown at his accusation, but you turn away and start walking out of the office so he doesn’t see you. There’s a sharp retort on your tongue about his own methods, but you won’t let him know that you are bothered by his comment. Thomas Moore is coming down the hall, smiling happily as you come towards him. “Hey, are we still on for tonight?” He asks and you nod. “Seven okay?” You ask, stopping and smiling flirtatiously. “I want to make sure I’ve got time to get ready.”

Javi clenches his jaw, unable to help himself, and Steve smirks, aware of the situation. Thomas nods, winking at you, “I’ll see you then.” You grin and continue walking down the hall. Javier glares at Thomas who frowns, confused about the DEA agent’s annoyance at him. “You seriously want to go out with that prick?” Javier scoffs, “can’t even tell you a damn time.”

“Don’t worry about what I do, Peña.” You huff as the three of you walk out of the building towards your Jeep. Javi normally wants to drive, but you’ll be damned if you let him be in charge today. “It’s none of your business who I date or who I take home with me.” You open the door and ignore his frown of annoyance at not taking his vehicle. “He wants to take me out for Valentine’s Day. Big deal.”

Javier rolls his eyes, “yeah. And get laid.” He scoffs and Steve snorts under his breath at this show you’re both putting on. You unlock your Jeep and Javier - who usually always sits in the front - sulks in the back seat as you drive to the lookout point. Your situation ship began on a lookout. Steve was sick so it was just the two of you. You listened to music, smoked, and then you began to talk…which turned into making out…which turned into you riding him in the backseat of his Jeep. Since that night, you had an unspoken agreement that this was colleagues with benefits. At least that’s what Javi thought.

You don’t look in the rear view mirror as you drive, getting a prime parking spot about a hundred yards away from the safe house front door. You park and turn off the engine, settling back into your seat and checking your watch. “Maybe we will finally get lucky.” You murmur to Steve. “And don’t forget I’ve got some crackers in the glovebox.” You tell him, knowing how much he enjoys snacking during stakeout.

Steve nods, “fuck yes.” He leans his elbow on the window and watches Javier in the wing mirror who has a pout on his face at the turn of events. Clearly the man thought you’d pine forever but you’ve decided to take action and Steve can’t disagree with it. Peña can’t drag you along without putting a label on what you’ve been doing. “The intel was bullshit.” Javier scoffs after a few minutes of waiting. “Clearly that jackass just wanted an excuse to get in your pants tonight so he made some shit up.”

You snort and shake your head, reaching for your cigarettes. It’s apparently going to be a day of thinly veiled insults and attitude. “Doubtful.” You say with the cigarette between your lips and you cup your free hand around the lighter since the window is down. “Better chance of getting in my pants if the lead is good.”

Javier rolls his eyes, “didn’t know it was that easy.” He quips, knowing he’s being an asshole but he is hurt that you’ve already moved on so quickly because he didn’t plan a fucking Valentine’s Day dinner. Like this entire situation isn’t life or death. In Laredo, he could relax and take you for a steak dinner, buy you roses, and make you feel special, but this isn’t home. Any moment, Escobar could find you and hurt you. He can’t take the risk.

Your jaw tightens and your eyes flicker to the rear view mirror, finding him looking at you in challenge. His eyes dark and for a split second you swear you see hurt flash through their depths. “Yeah, well, you should see some of the losers I’ve fucked.” You shoot back coolly, taking another puff of your cigarette. “Thoughtless assholes.”

Javier scoffs, shaking his head, and he knows that he won’t win this argument. He’s trying to keep you safe and if you can’t see that, then you aren’t aware of the dangers Escobar poses. He rubs his forehead, checking his watch, and he swears Steve is trying to piss him off as he crunches on stupid fucking crackers.

You don’t say anything else, just keep watch on the slightly rundown house that has newspapers covering the windows. Ever so often, you glance in the mirror at Javi, starting to feel guilty and hurt, and feeling guilty about being hurt. You haven’t had a conversation about what was happening between the two of you, pretending that it would somehow magically define itself. Javier isn’t one to date, that’s obvious and it’s better that you just get over him now before you do something stupid like confess how you feel.

Time seems to drag and Javier taps his fingers on the window sill, watching and waiting for Blackie to appear. Just when he thought Moore really is full of shit, the sicario appears and Javier sits up straight. “Well I’ll be damned.” Steve comments with a mouth full of crackers.

“Damn right.” You sit up and reach for the camera. Wanting to take photos before you move in for the arrest. Knowing that the documentation will be invaluable. “Finish your crackers, Murphy.” You tell him as you look through the lenses and click photo after photo.

Steve crunches enough to make Javier clench his jaw in annoyance and the blonde man knows that. He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee before you set the camera down. “Let’s get this over with.” Javier demands, opening the back door to get out and he pulls out his sunglasses to put them on.

“Well, I guess we are arresting him now.” You huff, setting the camera down and scrambling after Javier out of the truck. Steve is getting out on the other side and you reach behind you to pull your gun out of the holster at the base of your spine. The three of you spread out, knowing that Blackie will either run or start shooting. It’s only a question of which one he chooses.

Javier rolls his eyes at your tone and he pulls his gun from his back, keeping it low as he strides forward to follow Blackie down the alley. The sicario doesn’t see the three of you for several moments until he spins, gun in hand, and he fires it. The bullet whizzes past Javier and he clenches his jaw, taking off after the sicario while shouting at Steve to cut him off on the other side.

“Fuck!” While you know it’s not Javi’s fault, you can’t help but be annoyed at his impatience. It would have been easier to box him in when he was in the house. You take off another route, knowing that the alleyways connect the neighborhood and you don’t want him to slip away.

Javier pants as he chases after Blackie and it happens so fast. His heart beats then stops as Blackie runs down an alley and you are standing there with your gun aimed at the sicario. You fire your weapon, hitting the sicario in the shoulder and he wastes no time firing his gun back at you. By some miracle, the bullet imbeds itself in the wall beside you, and Javier rushes forward, firing his gun but the sicario runs fast, shoving you to the ground, and he turns the corner. Javier doesn't even think as he kneels down to pull you into his arms. "Fuck! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He rushes out, desperate to hear that you are okay.

You are breathless, both from the near miss that you had and the way you had fallen when Blackie had pushed you down. It takes you a second to be able to talk and you feel Javi’s hand running all over your body, desperately checking for injuries. For a moment, you melt, feeling his worry but then you remember how he had been so cold last night and this morning. You shove him away and push to your knees. “I’m fine.” You hiss, slapping his hand when he reaches for you again. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He recoils from you and the way you tell him not to touch you. His stomach twists and he shuffles back, holding his hands up. “Fine. Get the fuck up.” He demands now that he knows you’re not hurt. Steve runs towards you, chest heaving, and he shakes his head. “He got away.” Javier hisses, pissed off at the missed opportunity. He smacks his hand on the wall as you stand up and Steve frowns in worry, his blue eyes flicking between you. “Fuck.” He growls, “we lost him.”

You groan and bend down to pick up your gun, dropped when you had been knocked down. “I hit the fucker though.” You report grimly, tucking your gun back into its holster and sighing as you look around to get your bearings. “He’s not going to go back to the safe house.” It pisses you off that once again the sicarios that you’ve been chasing have slipped away. You know you should apologize for being so hateful to Javi, but you don’t. He wouldn’t. Turning around, you start walking back towards your Jeep.

Javier inhales shakily, his heart pounding in his chest, and he takes a second until he follows you. Steve watches him, slapping him on the back, “we will get the fucker.” He promises and Javi nods, trying to think about what went wrong. He could’ve shot the fucker but the thought of missing and shooting you…he couldn’t do it. He approaches your Jeep and Steve is in the driver’s seat. He gets in the back seat, shutting the door. “Can you drop me off at the girls?” Javier asks, knowing that Steve will know what he means.

You hate how your entire body tenses up and your heart aches when he asks that. You snort in disbelief, mostly at yourself and sink down into your passenger seat. Not looking in the mirrors at Javi and counting down the seconds before you can get away from him. Apparently sooner than you had expected.

Everyone is silent as Steve drives through the streets. You had all hoped this would amount to success. Finally some movement but that didn’t happen. Blackie got away. When Steve pulls up outside the unsuspecting home, Javier opens the door and gets out. “Thanks.” He grunts, looking back at you sitting in the front of the car, and when you turn your head, his heart aches. With a nod, he turns on his heel and makes his way into the brothel.

You bite your lip, facing forward and refusing to watch as he knocks on the brothel door and is let inside. Steve sighs but you cross your arms and try to pretend that it doesn’t hurt. “More time for me to get ready for my date.” You manage to say, but it sounds hollow.

****

Thomas guides you into the restaurant, his hand on your lower back, and he’s already told you three times that you look beautiful. It’s sweet but it doesn’t make you shiver like when Javier has murmured it when he’s inside you. Thomas pulls the chair out for you, letting you sit down, and he rushes around the table to take his seat. “I heard that this is the best restaurant in Bogotá.” Thomas says, clearly nervous, and you offer him a smile, “it’s great.” He beams but his smile falters when his eyes widen. You frown, turning your head to see what’s caught his eye and your jaw drops slightly. It’s Javier and he’s brought a date. Javier has his hand on Gabby’s lower back, guiding her over to the table next to you, and he can’t help but smirk at his luck.

Goddamnit. Your heart lurches and your stomach twists. Gabby is lovely, beautiful and kind, but it’s a punch to the gut that he would be insulted at the idea of taking you out to dinner but would bring the woman he pays to have sex with. Forcing yourself to nod to Gabby politely, you don’t acknowledge Javier. You swallow harshly and your eyes snap back towards Thomas. “I need a drink.” You pant, hating how you are hurt and jealous all at the same time.

Thomas nods, unsure of why you look nauseous, and he gestures for the waiter to come over just as Javier sits down on the table next to him, facing you. The waiter comes over and Thomas grins, proudly ordering a bottle of champagne. Javier snorts at the display, and he  knows you’d want a gin and tonic.

You don’t correct him, instead you smile at the gesture and keep your eyes glued to Thomas, almost afraid to look over at Javi. He had apparently found time between rounds with Gabby to change and he looks good. Your cunt clenches and you hate how your body betrays you, knowing that he’s going to go back to the brothel tonight and not be in your bed. “Your tip was good.” You tell Thomas, smiling at him. “I’m going to need you to keep feeding me those tips.” You tease.

The CIA agent smirks, “of course. We got more where that came from. I have plenty of intel…as long as you keep giving me those pretty smiles.” He winks and you giggle. Javier rolls his eyes and Gabby nudges him with her foot, leaning over to take his hand in hers. The waiter brings the bottle of champagne over, popping it, and you soon have a bubbly glass in front of you. “To new partners.” Thomas toasts and lifts his glass.

“To new partners.” You echo, taking a sip of the champagne and hating how sweet it is. Still, you drink half the glass before you set it down, needing the alcohol. “Thank you.” You murmur, watching Javi out of the corner of your eye. You see his and Gabby’s hands intertwined so you reach out and take Thomas’s hand. “This is a very lovely place and the company is even better.” You coo.

The waiter comes over to Javier and Gabby. Your partner orders a whiskey and Gabby gets a vodka soda, squeezing Javier’s hand after she winks at him, knowing that he sees you holding Thomas’s hand. “Thanks for helping me relax earlier.” Javier tells Gabby, picking her hand up to press a kiss to the back of it.

You squeeze the CIA agent’s hand and he frowns slightly. “Everything alright?” He asks, concern lacing his tone. You swallow and smile, ignoring the way your stomach twists since you know exactly how Javier likes to relax. “Just a little sore from earlier.” You admit. “Might need you to help me loosen up.” You give him a suggestive smile.

Javier clenches his jaw and Gabby notices, biting her lip. The waiter sets their drinks down, and Javier immediately picks up his whiskey to take a gulp. Thomas doesn’t notice and smirks, “let’s see how good dinner is and maybe we can get dessert.” He teases and Javier snorts at the lame response. If it was him, he’d be charming you, telling you how he would help you loosen up.

You giggle and slap at Thomas’s hand playfully. “Such a gentleman.” You coo, trying to play it up. “Dessert will be the best part of the night, I promise.” You had made sure your dress was sexy and your make-up alluring. You lean forward slightly to give him a better look at your tits. Opening your menu so you can look at the choices and let him gawk.

His eyes drop down and he swallows harshly. Javier also drops his gaze to your tits and he narrows his eyes. You look fucking gorgeous and he knows it could’ve been him sitting opposite you if he only had the balls to do what he should’ve done. Now he’s sitting opposite Gabby who agreed to help him in his ridiculous plan. “What do you want to eat, Javi?” Gabby asks him, “or should we just skip straight to dessert?” She asks, smirking as she leans closer to him. Her tits pushed together and Thomas’s gaze drifts over to her chest.

“Oooooh, should we have some oysters?” You ask, looking up as Thomas immediately looks back at you, his cheeks flushed at being caught looking at another woman. You don’t say anything, just slide your foot out of your shoe and reach out under the table to rub it against his ankle. Wanting his attention on you. “You know what they say about oysters.” You giggle.

Javier wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t. He knows when you are genuinely attracted to someone, and he knows you’re forcing the flirting. “Uh, oysters. Yeah.” Thomas nods lamely, making Javier chuckle under his breath at the boring response.

You hear the laugh and your eyes snap over to Javier. Your jaw tight as you glare at him, “what was that, Peña?” You hiss, annoyed that he’s here. He’s distracting you and clouding your thoughts when you should be trying to get over his stupid mustache and the way his cologne smells.

Javier shrugs, “nothing. Just think you shouldn’t be on a date if you need an aphrodisiac to get the blood flowing.” He quips, smirking at Gabby, “oysters ain’t doing anything for me to get it up.”

“You prick.” You hiss, twisting in your chair to glare at Javi. The smug asshole just flicks his eyes over to you in amusement, happy he’s riled you up. “Why the fuck are you even here?” You demand. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Why would you take anyone to dinner on Valentine’s Day?” Your words are dripping with sarcasm as you completely forget about your own date.

Thomas frowns, confused by your annoyance. He thought that you and Javier were just partners…work colleagues. “Gabby is important to me.” Javier counters, “I’ve known her a long time. As for being here…well, I heard this was the best restaurant in Bogotá.”

His jab hits its intended mark and you inhale sharply. “Asshole.” Gabby was important to him, special enough to want to spend time outside of a bedroom. But you were just a convenient fuck. You know that he has to be paying her to take her to dinner and it hurts worse than you expected to learn that he would rather pay for companionship than to do more than fuck you. You turn back towards Thomas, a little desperate. “Do you want to get out of here?” You ask.

Thomas sees how upset you are and he isn’t stupid. He connects the dots. You’re fucking Javier and this date is to make him jealous. He shakes his head, standing up and he pulls his wallet from his pants. “That’s for the champagne. I don’t know what’s going on now but I’m not going to be in the middle of whatever the fuck this is.” He scoffs and tosses some cash down. He looks at Javier, “I don’t know what she sees in you.” He says and strides from the table, shaking his head. Javier scoffs, unable to believe he left like that but he’s also secretly pleased.

You sit there for a moment, staring at the money he had thrown down. Embarrassed and ashamed of how this night has turned out. Your cheeks feel like they are on fire and worse you can feel the tears starting to build in your eyes. “Shit.” You leap up and rush towards the bathroom, unwilling to let Javi see you cry.

Javier watches you rush off and his eyes flick back to Gabby. “Go after her.” She urges and he nods, shifting to stand up. He follows you to the bathroom, knocking on the door. “Hermosa.” He  calls after clearly his throat. He says your name, wanting you to know he’s serious about talking to you.

“Go away, Javi.” You beg, closing your eyes as you try to stop yourself from crying. Of course he doesn’t listen to you and you hear the door open. You press your eyes together harder as you bend over at the sink. “Please just go away.”

He sees you bent over the sink and his heart clenches. “Not until you tell me why you accepted going on a date with that CIA prick. He’s never going to be what you need. Why’d you put yourself through that when you know he could never make you feel like I do. That limp prick couldn’t make you cum like I do.”

That pisses you off and pushes the tears away for a second. You whirl around and glare at him. “The great Javier Peña.” You hiss, poking him in the chest with your finger. “God’s gift to women’s orgasms.” You snort and step away from him. “Sometimes a woman wants more than just a fucking orgasm.” You inform him. “Unless she’s getting paid to fake them.” You smirk coldly. “Enjoy your night with Gabby.” You turn around and walk out of the women’s bathroom, ready to go the fuck home and pretend tonight didn’t happen.

Javier huffs, rubbing his chest, and he knows he’s fucked up. He lets you go, knowing you’ll be okay to get home, and he makes his way outside to Gabby. He follows Thomas’s lead and he tosses some cash down onto the table. “I’m taking you home.” He says and she nods, grabbing her purse. When Javier is driving her back to her place, she turns to look at him. “I wondered why you haven’t been fucking me for a while. Only coming to pay me for intel. It was her. She clearly loves you. Why the hell didn’t you take her to dinner tonight?” Gabby asks and Javier adjusts his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s complicated. I- I’m too fucking complicated for her.” He admits his deepest thoughts.

Gabby snorts and shakes her head. “Men.” She scoffs. “You don’t think she’s complicated? She’s a female DEA agent in Colombia. Tracking down the same dangerous men that you say make you too complicated.” He sighs and she doesn’t cut him any slack. “What do you think they would do to her if they caught her? You don’t think she knows that? She lives with that everyday and the man she loves would rather push her away than risk it?” She reaches over and touches his hand. “Don’t do that to her. Don’t do that to both of you.”

Javier clenches his jaw, imagining too many times what could happen to you if one of Escobar’s men got hold of you. He shudders slightly and Gabby notices but doesn’t say anything. “I’ve fucked up. She hates me now. I took you to dinner after telling her what we had was just sex. She’ll never forgive me.” He murmurs and Gabby scoffs, “she loves you. Get some damn roses and get your ass over to her place to apologize. Grovel.” She adds, “all women like a man who begs.” She smirks and Javier nods, knowing it’s going to be impossible to find roses this time of night but he’s going to try. He drops Gabby off at her place, thanking her, and she refuses the money until he shoves it in her hand. She kisses his cheek and soon he’s speeding to find a florist. There’s one still open and when he strides in, he asks for roses at the same time another man asks for them. “I was here first.” The man argues and Javier tilts his head, reaching for his wallet, “I’ll pay more.” The shop owner glances between the men. “What if you both take six?” She suggests and Javier knows it’s not the grand gesture he was after but it will have to do. He nods and pays, rushing back to his Jeep and soon, he’s standing on your doorstep. His heart pounds as he waits for you to answer the door.

You’ve kicked off your shoes and are spoon deep in a pint of rocky road, trying to bury yourself in ice cream to make yourself feel better. Wallowing in misery, you know tomorrow will be horrible. Thomas is hurt by your selfishness. Using him to get over Javi and he didn’t deserve that. He was a good guy, for being CIA. You fucked up and what’s worse is that you know Javi will be enjoying his night with Gabby, not even giving you a second thought. Dipping the spoon into the carton, you sniffle slightly and then freeze when you hear a knock on your door. You sigh, wondering who the fuck it is and contemplate ignoring it before you get up. Setting the ice cream down, you reach for your gun as you peek through the hole and see Javi.

When you open the door, Javier winces, knowing that you are pissed at him...rightly so...and he holds the flowers up for you to see. "Please don't shut the door." He pleads and you huff, pulling the door back after you try to slam it on him. Your eyes drift down to the roses and you scoff, "couldn't get a dozen?" You ask, wanting to act like a bitch, and Javier chuckles dryly, "yeah. Could only find one florist open and the flowers were split between me and another stupid bastard."

“Stupid is right.” You snort, hating that you are  already softening and opening the door wider so he can come in. “What are you doing here, Peña?” You demand. “Shouldn’t you be showing Gabby how you don’t need oysters to get it up?”

He walks into your apartment before you can tell him to get the fuck out and he sighs, “I was trying to make you jealous. I…I was jealous that you were out with Moore. I was jealous as fuck and I figured - it was fucking stupid. I wanted to make you jealous and I realized this entire situation is my fault because I should’ve asked you to dinner before all of this happened but I was a coward. I’m terrified to - to make this real because if something happens to you, I won’t forgive myself and I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. I think I’d kill every sicario in Colombia with my bare hands if anything happened to you and that scares the shit out of me. To know that you are the person I love the most…to lose you. It would kill me. I thought if I acted like you didn’t mean anything to me that you’d get sick of my shit and move on and when that happened - I couldn’t handle it.” He rambles more than you’ve ever heard since you met him and he inhales deeply when he’s done.

You inhale sharply, eyes wide at his confession. “You love me?” You whisper and he nods, shifting nervously as he still holds the six roses in his hand like a lifeline. Reaching out, you slap at his chest. “You love me?” You hiss, although it’s more out of frustration than anger. “You love me and you let me think that I meant nothing to you? Just an easy fuck you didn’t have to pay for and you love me?”

Javier shakes his head, "I was trying to protect you. Jesus Christ, I thought - I thought I was protecting you from my bullshit. I didn't want to hurt you but I did anyway and I - I am sorry." He promises, "hermosa...I want you. I love you, but if you want me to go. I'll go."

“I don’t want you to go.” You slap his chest again and your hand rests there as you look into your eyes. “But I don’t want to be your second choice.” You admit softly. “You’ve already been with Gabby today. I don’t-“ you break off, unsure how to explain you didn’t want to have sloppy seconds.

"I didn't fuck her. I haven't...not since before we started having sex." He promises, "I wouldn't do that to you. Especially since we haven't used a condom. I am many things but I am not that big of an asshole." He shrugs one shoulder, shuffling the roses in his hand.

“You didn’t?” You frown in confusion. “You said that she had helped you relax.” You remind him. “Only fucking time I’ve ever seen you relaxed is right after you’ve cum.”

Javier can't help but blush a little, ducking his chin, "I didn't - she just let me talk about anything and everything. She didn't even hug me. I vented and asked if she would go to dinner with me." He confesses, "I wanted to make you jealous." He sighs, "and I was being a prick."

You wilt at his embarrassed confession. He had just tried to make you jealous. “It worked.” You admit. “I was furious, and jealous. I wanted to claw Gabby’s eyes out, and I like Gabby.” You’ve talked to the prostitute many times, double checking on intel Javi’s received or just checking on her woman to woman. You know she’s in a rough line of work.

Javier’s heart jerks at the news that you were jealous of Gabby. “She’s one of the best.” He agrees, “and she told me it was a stupid idea. It was stupid. I love you, baby. I should’ve told you that long ago and I should’ve taken you to dinner tonight. Can you give me another chance? Dinner tomorrow?”

You bite your lip, watching his eyes. They are dark and worried that you might say no. “I had honestly expected you to say something like you would buy me a hot dog.” You admit with a small laugh. It’s something of an inside joke because every time you worked late at Steve’s apartment, Connie would make you hot dogs. It was an innocent joke and some levity that you all sorely needed. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head, "you're worth more than a hot dog." He promises, "you are everything. I want to show you that." He steps closer, unsure if you want him to touch you or if you need some space.

“Then show me.” You challenge him, biting back a smirk. You reach out and take his hand. “I love you, Javier.” You murmur softly.

Javier sets the flowers down on your table and pulls you into him. He smiles as he leans in to softly kiss you. "I love you, hermosa." He promises, pressing his lips to yours again to deepen the kiss.

You wind your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you as you let him take control. Moaning softly when he licks into your mouth, the previous anger and upset forgotten as his mouth fuses to yours.

Javier groans as his tongue slides against yours. His hands are greedy as they squeeze your ass and he missed you. As ridiculous as it sounds, he’s missed you during the time you were fighting. He guides you backwards through your apartment to your bedroom and his hands immediately find the zipper of your dress, pulling it down. You let it drop to the floor without hesitation and Javier pulls back to look at you. “Lingerie? Was this for that prick?”

“It was for myself.” You shrug, knowing that it’s not necessary to worry about it now. “But if I felt like I could have gone through with it….” You honestly don’t know if you would have been able to sleep with Thomas, but now you are able to stand in front of the man you had envisioned when putting it on.

Javier growls, jealousy making his heart clench, "well, he ain't gonna see this. Only I get to see you looking this fucking sexy." He commands, grabbing your ass to lift you onto the bed.

Your squeal of surprise turns into a giggle as he drops you on the bed. “Is that right?” You prop up on your elbows and smirk at him. “You think I look sexy like this, baby?”

He chuckles, nodding at you, and he fingers the lace of your bra. "Goddamn mouthwatering." He promises, "not that you aren't always the sexiest woman in the damn city but you look like a fucking dessert right now." He murmurs, bending down to take your nipple into his mouth through the lace.

You whimper at the wet heat of his mouth on you. Moaning softly when he runs his tongue over the entire area to wet it more. “Javi- fuck.” You run your fingers through his hair and sigh blissfully when he climbs on top of you and you feel the weight of him on top of you again. “Want you naked.”

He chuckles against your breast, sucking on your nipple, and you whine. Your protest makes him lean back on his haunches and he unbuttons his shirt, exposing his chest for your hungry eyes. He shrugs it off and shuffles off the bed so he can kick off his shoes and unbutton his pants. His half hard cock exposed when he shoves them down and kicks them aside.

“I love that you never wear underwear.” You eye his cock greedily. He’s impressive even when he’s not fully hard, just overall beautiful in your opinion. And now you know that he is all yours.

Javier kneels on the bed again, leaning down to kiss your stomach, and his hands caress your thighs. He wants to taste you. Be wants to hear you cry his name. He kisses down to your mound, nuzzling his nose against the lace covering it, and he shifts lower, pushing your thighs apart so he can press a soft kiss to your clit through the material.

“Javi.” It’s not like you haven’t had oral. Javi hasn’t been selfish when you’ve been together. It’s more than fucking has taken priority over oral. He’s the type of man who would rather be inside your pussy than in your mouth. “You don’t have to.”

He smirks as he looks up at you while he hooks his fingers into the crotch so he can pull them aside. “I know.” He promises before he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds. The tip of his tongue flicks over your clit and he loves the way you cry out and your fingers tangle in his hair.

Shivers race through your body as he dives into you. Javier never does things by half and he feels like he is trying to devour you, pussy first. His tongue alternates between running along your folds and flicking over your clit with teasing, playful motions. It makes you moan as you grind your hips down on his face.

He loves the way you grind onto his face and he moans when you tug on his hair to push his face deeper into your pussy. He sucks your clit into his mouth, loving the way you squeal, and his cock aches as he grinds slowly into the mattress.

He’s obviously trying to kill you. You pant softly as he works his tongue deeper inside you after finally letting your clit go. “Fuck, Javi.” You moan. “So good baby, you make me feel so good.”

Your moan goes straight to his cock and he hisses into your pussy, making your hips jerk. His hands squeeze your thighs, pushing them further apart, and he loves the way you moan his name. He wants to push you over the edge.

All you can hear is Javi lapping at your cunt and your answering moans. Everything outside is muted, forgotten. Even Pablo Escobar and your hunt for him is pushed aside for the way every flick of his tongue makes you want to weep in bliss. “So close, baby, I’m gonna cum.” You babble through the sounds of praise, rocking desperately against his tongue. “Gonna cum!”

You cry out moments later, your thighs squeezing his head, and he groans as he eagerly laps up your slick. His cock now throbbing into the sheets and he works you through until you’re pushing his head away. He kisses your mound, hooking his fingers in the lace panties to drag them down your legs.

“I need you to fuck me.” You are reaching for him, lunging up and pressing your lips to his. Not caring that he tastes like you, that his lips are still wet with your juices. Your hand wraps around his cock and you groan into his mouth when you feel the precum that has beaded up. “I need you right now baby. More than I need air.” 

He feels like he’s gonna explode if he doesn’t fuck you. He groans when you squeeze his cock and shuffles closer. “Fuck, hermosa. I’m here. I’m here.” He promises, letting you guide his cock to your entrance and he slowly starts to push into you. “Goddamn.” He hisses, shifting to his forearms and he ducks his head down to kiss you.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Your nails are shorter than you’d want, but they still dig into the meat of his shoulders as he presses into you. Filling you up with a steady determination that has you letting out a curse. “Fuuuuuuuck.” You whine. “No one ever filled me up like you do. So fucking thick.” You praise breathlessly. “Feels like you’re in my fucking guts when you are pounding away.”

Javier twitches inside you at your breathless praise and he loves it. "Baby. Shit. Baby." He pants, starting to move and he kisses along your neck, "so goddamn tight and - and so fucking perfect." He grunts, knowing he's not usually one for talking during sex but you always have him rambling.

You hold him close, letting him set the pace. The sex is still perfect. Maybe more so since you know there is love behind every kiss and roll of Javi’s hips. “You are perfect.” You moan. “Even when you piss me off, I want you.”

He chuckles, kissing your jaw, "that's a good thing because I know it happens a lot." You smirk and he bites your lip, dragging it as he thrusts harder, making you whine. He releases your lip and kisses you, "you are everything. Gotta keep you safe. I'll burn this entire fucking place down to find Escobar if anything happens to you." He vows, "but that ain't gonna happen because I won't let it." He promises against your lips.

“It won’t happen.” You promise breathlessly, rocking your hips up to meet his pace. You can’t guarantee it, but you do everything you can to come home every day. “I love you, Javi.”

"Love you too." He murmurs, shifting to bury his face in your neck. He breathes in your perfume, rocking his hips, and he shifts to his knees and you cry out at the change in angle. He groans at the way you clench around him so he focuses on that angle, wanting to feel you cum for him.

It doesn’t take long for that knot to coil in your stomach. So close to cumming that your thighs tighten around him, afraid he might pull away. “Baby-“ his next thrust pushes you over the edge and you clamp down around his lengths, crying out wordlessly.

When you cum, he groans into your skin, working you through it, and he rocks into you until you stop shaking beneath him. He slides his hands under your ass, lifting you as he shuffles onto his haunches, and he sinks deeper into your pussy. "Shit, hermosa." He pants, starting to rock you on top of his cock.

You whine in agreement. He feels so good inside you. You lean up on your elbows and watch as he fucks you. “Sometime I wonder how you fit.” You moan, clenching down around him and making him hiss in pleasure. “So fucking thick.”

“You take every inch. Like you’re made for me.” He promises, watching his cock disappear inside your dripping cunt. He grunts, getting lost in the sensation, and his eyes flick up to yours. “You’re perfect.” He promises, slowing his pace. He wants you to cum again for him. “How do you want it?” He asks, wanting you to decide how you cum next.

Your brow furrows for a moment, unsure of what he means until it dawns on you. “Hands and knees.” You beg. “I want you to wreck me. Make me realize that I’m still alive. I could have died today.”

How can he deny you when you remind him of what he nearly lost. He nods, pulling out of you, and you shuffle onto your hands and knees. He groans, squeezing your ass and spreading your cheeks. He can’t help it, he leans down to spit onto your puckered hole, watching it slide between your cheeks until it pools at your cunt. “Amor.” He murmurs, gripping his cock and shuffling closer until he’s pushing into you again .

Your gasp is needy, already rocking your hips back when he fills you. You need this, desperate to feel alive and like you are not alone. That you have him. Your fingers dig into the sheets and you moan his name. “Javi.”

Javier grips your hips, dragging you back onto his cock as he thrusts deep. Your cry makes him chuckle and he smacks your ass, watching it jiggle. "Fuck. You're here." He promises, "and I am yours. You're mine. This pussy is mine."

“Yours, baby.” You echo, eyes rolling back as he drives into you. “All yours, just yours.” You are his, despite trying to get over him. You’ll never get over Javier Peña. “Fuck, baby, mooooore.”

He grunts, wrapping his arm around your waist, and he drags you up and back into his chest. He kisses your shoulder, nipping the skin as he thrusts into you in a new angle.

You turn your head and kiss along his jaw, holding on as he makes your tits shake as he fucks you. “Kiss me.” You beg, wanting his lips on yours. “Javi, kiss me.”

Javier groans your name before he kisses you. He thrusts deep and hard, wanting you to feel every inch of him, to make sure you feel alive. His tongue slides against yours and it's sloppy but he twitches inside you at how good it feels.

Your hands grab at his, holding you tight and he curls his fingers through yours. Holding your hand as both of you try to race towards the finish line as quickly as you can with every thrust.

Javier groans into your mouth, no longer kissing just exchanging air, and he breathes you in like a man needing oxygen. You are his lifeline. He squeezes your hand over your breast, grunts escaping through his gritted teeth as he works you higher. He needs you to cum for him now.

Your eyes close and every push of his hips rockets you closer. Spearing up into your soaking walls with devastating accuracy until you are stiffening in his arms. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Javi!” You cry out. “Jaaaaaaviiiiiiii!”

Javi groans when you clamp down onto his cock and practically scream his name, making him hiss. He pants, wrapping his other arm around you to keep you close and he pushes up into you, pace sloppy and fast as he seeks his orgasm. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls and finally he lets out a low groan as he pulses inside you. He paints your walls, eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm surges through him.

Javi lets you collapse forward, following you and pressing you down to the bed. Both of you are panting and trying to catch your breath. “I love you.” You murmur softly, smiling to yourself as his spent cock twitches inside you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier.”

Javier smiles, “I promise to take you out for an actual dinner tomorrow. And every night from now on, I’ll show you how much I love you, hermosa.” He vows, leaning in to kiss your neck after he shifts you both to your side.

“As long as we are together, I don’t care what we do.” You promise, reaching out and caressing his cheek. “Stay the night?” You ask softly, knowing that he might still want to go home and sleep on his own bed. He normally did after fucking you.

He nods, curling around you after his cock falls from your soaked cunt. “I’ll stay the night.” He promises, “and I gotta put the roses in water.” He teases, making you giggle. “Happy Valentine’s Day, hermosa.” He murmurs between kisses on your shoulder. “One to remember.” You hum and he hums against your skin. He’s made many mistakes since he arrived in Colombia but he’s not going to lose you. Not again.

[dazzling-raven]

Little Foeslayer study! This is my first time ever writing something like this, so I hope it turned out all right ^^

Tw for blood and also death ig

Also spoilers for Winter Turning

Foeslayer shuddered as she felt the ice casing melt from her scales. She stumbled forward slightly, star speckled wings flaring slightly as she caught herself. She gave the IceWing queen a level stare as she took a staggering breath, folding her wings back. ‘You killed me, great. Do you feel better now?’ she thought, steeling her gaze. Diamond's face was twisted in a rage filled snarl, the dragoness lunging at the NightWing for the fortieth time.

‘Clearly…not’ the NightWing observed, bracing herself for the sharp, blood covered narwhal spear that pierced her heart. She gasped as pain shot through her veins, clenching her talons as she let out a breath. She began to slump forward forward as ice crept up her back legs, freezing her in place wherever it touched. She had felt this before. Forty times before. But it never got easier.

She caught herself on her forearms, giving the IceWing queen her best defiant glare as the ice encased her face.

When Foeslayer awoke again, she was surprised to find two IceWing dragons in front of her instead. They each held spears, but they were slack with surprise. She heaved herself upwards, eyebrows arched in surprise. “You are certainly not Queen Diamond.” The NightWing said, observing the two thoughtfully.

“It's you! The one who stole our Prince!” The one to her left snarled, snapping into action. She lunged at Foeslayer, who roared in surprise at the fresh pain that bloomed across her neck. The IceWing on the right, momentarily stunned into silence, righted himself and launched onto her back. She reared up, smashing him into the ice wall of the prison.

She choked on the blood that bubbled up in her throat as she staggered forward, lunging at the sharp eyed IceWing. The younger dragon ducked and rolled expertly out of the way, scraping her light blue talons against Foeslayer's side. The dragoness snarled, whirling around and catching the second IceWing by the throat. She slammed him down on the floor, grabbed his sharp, thin horn and wrenched his head up. His neck snapped with a sickening crack, and he slumped to the floor.

A deep, guttural growl came from the sharp eyed IceWing as she lunged, taking advantage of Foeslayer's distraction. She hefted the spear in her claws, pulled her arm back, and plunged the spear directly into the wound that had been made previously. The NightWing choked on a roar, talons poised in an attacking position as everything went cold and dark.

The ice crackled and snapped around her as she awoke the second time, her talons flinging forward in an arc that hit nothing. Her face was twisted in anger, sharp teeth barred. Her rage dissipated into confusion again as she saw two new dragons, both wielding spears. She blinked, glancing at the frozen dragon that lay next to her. Right. She'd killed him.

“You!” The dragon with light blue scales snarled, taking no time and lunging with his spear. Her gaze snapped forward again, preparing herself for battle once more. The other ice dragon with dark blue freckles splattering his scales worked in tandem with the light blue dragon, confusing and overwhelming the NightWing. She roared again as she was killed, the thought ‘what in the three moons is going on?’ barely able to form as she froze over again.

The cold that nipped at her scales barely bothered her as she came to again, and she wasn't even surprised to see two new visitors standing in battle ready positions. She was, however, startled to realize that there was another frozen dragon in the room with her. The pattern repeated itself yet again: they fight, she freezes over before she could get a full grasp on the situation.

This cycle continued many rounds, new ice dragons filling up her space as she awoke to do battle yet again. ‘How many more would Queen Diamond send? How many more IceWings would she have to kill?’

Eventually, it got to the point where dragons were surprised to see her. They had no idea who she was. She talked to them for brief moments, though they usually killed her once they realized she was The Darkstalker's mother. ‘Darkstalker. Her dragonet. Her son. What on pyrrhia had he done?’

Foeslayer had gone through these cycles enough to gather that this was her punishment. This was Diamond's way of getting back at her even after she was gone, ensuring that she would be trapped for eternity. Send two IceWings of the highest ranking and the lowest ranking, have one (or both) of them kill her, and the two dragons would try to kill each other once she was frozen again. Whoever survived got the prize: first place in the rankings.

It was clever. It was cunning. It was also massively annoying. Sometimes Foeslayer would manage to kill both dragons, and she'd try to figure out some way to escape. Simply walking out of the cave wouldn't work, as she would get pulled back by the shackles around her legs. She couldn't smash them, she couldn't melt them, and she couldn't pick the locks. She was well and truly stuck.

Foeslayer eventually just stopped trying. It was easier for her to simply let herself be killed than go through the effort of fighting again. Every moment she was left unfrozen hurt, and she could feel the hunger that prickled under her scales. Of course some dragons would always choose to fight her anyways, and she would let them. It was just… easier that way.

When she awoke one final time, she was startled to see an ice dragon standing in front of her. Just one. His name was Winter, one of the two brothers that had just fought her previously. The two of them talked. They talked about animus magic, and what she had done. They talked about Prince Arctic. She loved him, the real him. He loved her, too. They had run away together. It was all they wanted, to be together.

They hadn't meant to start a war.

Then, Winter spoke about freedom. It came with the chill of frost breath and a snap of metal. She was in disbelief. She was going to be free. She was free. As they exited the caves of the Diamond trial, Foeslayer looked up. The moons were big, bright, shining. Full of hope. She was free.

She was free.

"You killed me, great. You feel better now?" You ask as you slowly pull the sword out of your heart and lungs. It's not that it didn't hurt. But you became numb to it over the centuries. Now it's just... Tuesday.

[willyoubemycherryy]

Have one on me…(C.Kent)

Summary: “Don’t scream or shout, I’m working my way down…”, Make it to the morning x Intimacy Cues pt 2.

Contains: fluff, smut, nervousness, Clark is hot, he’s also a munch, like seriously, tongue fxcking, because I personally headcanon him to have a long tongue think misha collins (who’s next btw) kissing, they’re also kinda dorks, pussydrunk!clark, multiple 0rgasms, he gets carried away bad, coming untouched, cursing/swearing, for the love of god don’t let him get his mouth on the box for a while after this😭, you’re secretly his girlfriend you just don’t know it yet, hell of a Valentine’s Day, am I right? @moonstruks I got the ambulance this time if u need it😉🤝🏽

A/N: Be normal. Don’t make me regret updating.

. .* ੈ✩‧₊•

“Atta girl, jus’ lay there nice n pretty while I give you everything you need..”

And he wasn’t kidding.

From the next seconds following Clark stripping your bottoms off and folding your trembling legs towards your chest, become a blur as your world gets overwhelmed with a new palette of sensations. Your mouth drops open in a moan when you feel his nose skim along the back of your thighs before dipping inside making you jerk, and he coos at you, warm puffs of air breezing over your center.

God, you were wet. Wet and so pretty.

It was like a gloss the way your slick covered your lips; steadily leaking from your tight hole to the point where it was borderline messy. Clark licks his lips again with a deep breath, hot gaze locked on your cunt because he just can’t make himself look away and he’s so hard he’s throbbing. Still, he has to keep one thing in mind more than anything: that you are completely new to this. Which also meant you were trusting him and you can. He’ll go slow. He’ll simply make you cum and he won’t get carried away as you get used to how you’ll be feeling during the whole thing.

The heady scent of your arousal makes his eyes lid a bit as he blows on your clit, groaning lowly when he sees it twitch, more slick leaking from your cunt. He can hear the breakneck speed of your heart when your breathless voice shyly calls out for him, you don’t look down though. You’re still too nervous but that’s okay. He’ll get you there.

“..Clark? What- um…” you trail off and you sound so sweet and he’s just so hard and all that mixed with how he’s still in disbelief that he’s even got you like this, he can’t help himself; jaw dropping open as he laps a slow, fat stripe up your pussy. Letting his tongue sit snug against the underside of your throbbing clit before closing his mouth around it and sucking- rolling it around with his tongue like a piece of candy.

To you, it happens so fast that it’s like a shot of pure adrenaline. Your chest feels like it’s caving in with each gasping moan as your body is abruptly flung into the depths of molten ecstasy. At first you weren’t sure how you felt about his face being that close to your…but the sheer hunger in his expression made you ache- anxiety slowly fading in wake of your arousal. However now, it’s also agonizing and you don’t think you’ll ever be this miserable again when that deliciously wet suction is off your clit, only to be replaced with heavy strokes of tongue that have you reeling. Tears of pleasure bud in the corners of your eyes and the heat in your cheeks just won’t leave at the sounds coming from Clark and your own mouth. You’ve never sounded so…desperate. Needy, high pitched moans tear out of your throat- sharp stabs of pleasure giving you goosebumps and you feel the urge to reach out- touch Clark so he can ground you.

The taste of you has him drunk, big hands tightening their grip as he nuzzles his face deeper into your pussy, suckling your clit back into his hot mouth with a pleased delirious hum, the vibrations of his moans travel through you and you scream. Back arching so hard, you’re almost lifting off the bed; mouth opening and closing as you try to shut yourself up but simultaneously catch your breath. It’s a stupid idea, though. Clark is just too good with his mouth and you’ve never actually had anyone make you cum, never let anyone so close but even if you had, you doubt they’d be like Clark. He’s got you floating, unable to even think of anything not involving him.

Your entire body is trembling but he doesn’t think you even notice based on the sounds coming from your lips. You’re somewhere else entirely and If he thought you were wet before, it’s nothing compared to how soaked you were now. Each swipe of his tongue is immediately replaced with fresh waves of your slick as he licked away at you. Clark said he wasn’t going to get carried away but you were so soft. So fucking soft, and wet- so ready underneath him that it was hard especially with the way you were coating his senses. His head is spinning from the sweet, heady smell and taste of you, his ears ringing from your beautiful cries. Fuck, he could eat you out forever. Heart pounding he way you were under his mouth was beyond addicting; head dipping, he sucks at your hole and it happens too all at once for you to even tell him that you’re coming or possibly dying but coming hard.

Tears spill over as a long, almost painful sounding series of punched out moans tumble out of your mouth. The warm knot in the bottom of your stomach from before seems to explode, soaking your every nerve in searing bliss as Clark treats your poor clit like a pacifier. Using his tongue, he rolls it gently between his teeth and you pray there’s a burial ground nearby after he’s done killing you. The sharp twing of pain added to the melting pleasure has you wailing through the best thing you truly never knew you needed. It’s burning, tingling, somewhat painful honestly but oh so good. You gasp, trying to come down but Clark doesn’t stop- he can’t stop.

Lapping his more than talented tongue heavily through your slit, you absentmindedly look down. So tired from your orgasm that embarrassment doesn’t even stop by but what does make your heart stop is how Clark looks.

Messy black hair is all you see before reaching down to sweep it back, breath hitching when you’re suddenly staring into his pretty blown eyes, lidded heavily in arousal. He doesn’t stop, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he slowly licks up from your hole to your clit and you go positively lightheaded. You were always painfully aware- to an uncomfortable degree- of how attractive Clark is but seeing that same face smeared in your wetness, those same maddening fangs peeking out with the pink of his tongue as he laves open mouthed licks up your cunt was too much.

“C-came already-!” You’re cut off by your own shaky whine when you feel him continue to suckle the sensitive around your entrance.

He isn’t getting carried away- fat tongue slipping inside you to taste that delicious cream from the source, sucking sloppily as he undulates his tongue and you go boneless; falling flat against your bed while Clark eats you alive. His perfect nose nuzzles against your pulsing clit as a result, and your heart skips as white hot pleasure ricochets through you. The appendage squeezes in further, and you can feel the mess that’s beginning to accumulate but you don’t care, grinding down on his face. Reaching down, you card your trembling fingers through his hair and you’re so nice about it vs. the sick way he’s eating you up that he rewards you by pulling his tongue out some just to slide it back in, wiggling with persistence against your tight inner walls, fucking you with his tongue. Every now and then- in a pussydrunk daze- he pulls out to swallow; lower face drenched in you, and then plunges right back in, cock throbbing painfully but he’s in heaven.

Your skin is damn near ready to vibrate off your skeleton, bleated moans rise to keens as Clark flexes his tongue before pulling out to flick at your pearl. Biting your lip, you start to cry in earnest. Completely overwhelmed but so good at the same time that you refuse to tell him to stop.

It's insane. How his tongue is so big it covers your entire sex at the best of each lick, tasting you over and over. He keeps lapping at you, his tongue parting the fat lips of your swollen cunny with maddening repitition, saliva and slick sliding down over your asshole. It's lewd and noisy and oh god, oh god- you’re gonna come again.

In his world, all that exists is you. You with your pretty, overstimulated pussy that no one’s ever even seen- smelling so edible and coming so sweet in his mouth as you cry for him, melting like cotton candy. He’s worked your cunt over so well that she’s puffy. Spasming at every puff of air and another nasty wet kiss is all it takes for what’s left of you to come crumbling apart.

This time, Clark’s tongue fucks you through it. Lapping up every spurt of your juices, he holds you down while you black out. Letting the consuming waves of euphoria swallow you as Clark makes out with your pussy, eyes fluttered in bliss as he shoots ropes into his pants while he licks you clean- his own orgasm triggered by yours hitting then squeezing his tongue.

A weak groan leaves your chest and Clarks mouth reluctantly pops off your cunt and you shiver at the cool air.

His broad chest heaves as he stares at the tantalizing sight that is your cunt. Maybe he did get carried away. The slight gape of your tongue fucked hole makes him swear, brows furrowing with restraint and he whines low in his throat. As much as he would love to keep going, this is about you and you couldn’t handle anymore right now. Almost guiltily, he eyes your limp form on the bed, warm hands massaging your legs idly while he watches the quick rise and fall of your chest. Adjusting himself, he licks his lips and before he can stop it- a dazed smile raises the corner of his mouth. Your taste still sweet on his lips. Clearing his throat, Clark’s mellow voice breaks the silence, cutting through the fuzz in your ears.

“Hey..”, his hushed whisper makes you smile, albeit tiredly and you whisper back.

“..hi.”

Clark sighs in relief as he stands up, draping himself over you as he lays on top, kissing your lips softly. The shy look on your face only intensifies when you feel his wet face kiss at yours, remembering why it’s wet but in a strange way, it’s nice. You also feel lighter somehow but you’d investigate that later. The second time he kisses you, on the mouth this time, you kiss him back. Lips sliding against each other tenderly before he breaks away.

“So? How was it, baby? We still doin’ okay?” You turn your head as another hot flush overtakes your face at the petname and his audacity. How was it? Your normally smart ass didn’t even have the words to string together how good it was. Instead, you let the loopy smile you’ve been fighting win as you face him, nodding happily with sleepy eyes. Clark chuckles, nodding amusingly with you, feeling his chest swell and he’s not sure if it’s entirely because of his ego.

You really do feel great. Even with him laying flush on top of you and heavy, you don’t feel that familiar itch or urge to get away from him- for personal space which is surprising given the way he was eye and mouth contact with your most sensitively intimate areas only minutes ago.

“Mmm, better than okay- splendiforous even.” You smile as you feel his chest shake with laughter, shaking his head before kissing you again.

“Dr. Seuss? Really?” He raises an eyebrow and that same feeling that started all this begins to creep back in.

“Really really but”, you don’t know how to word it so you just pointedly look down and hope he catches your drift and he eventually does. Letting out a nervous but interested chuckle, tonguing the inside of his cheek before leaning down in your ear, the way his soft lips brush your skin makes heat slot up your spine.

“What about me?” Oh fuck.

You can’t wait to ask god what he got from creating someone as unnecessarily fine as Clark when he sends you to the afterlife.

Taking a deep breath, you manage to squeak out,

“Did you- don’t you want to…y’know…” Biting his lip to keep from smiling wolfishly, Clark drops his head on your shoulder. His breath in your ear making you shiver.

“I already did, baby.”

Oh?

“But I didn’t touch you-“

“But I- was touching you. Tasting you too and when you cum-”, he pauses to kiss wetly at your ear and you gasp, “it’s contagious, sweetheart.”

Oh.

The low whimper that leaves you has him ready to run laps and he gets real aware of how naked you are from the waist down and fights to control himself because it would be unfairly easy. Too easy to rile you up, rouse your curiosity about every single touchy thing you’ve never done and take you there but he can’t. He’s worn you out enough for one afternoon and fitting any part of him in you would be a whole other struggle entirely so he leaves that for another day when he’ll be following your lead again. A sleepy yawn breaks him out of his thoughts as he looks down at your pretty face.

“Tired?” You nod but make no move to separate and he bites his lip nervously at what now. You two were in similar circles but you never got on together so your odd relationship was new. He liked you, having you in his eye from afar since forever but he also knew how much too close could unnerve you.

“If you wanna nap I can go-”,

“Nah.” He swallows, trying not to sound to happy as your arms wrap around his big frame, snuggling into his warmth.

“No? But aren’t you tired? I don’t want to intr-”,

Your snort cuts him off.

“Intrude? I just gave you your very own lipgloss; it’s impossible for you to intrude now.” Touché. “Right, so-”,

“So now, we’ll get up after I catch my breath and then I’ll go clean up and after we’ll go get fries and do whatever covers.” You say casually but he hears your heart pounding and it sounds like a dream and he smiles, kissing you slowly for the countless times within the time you’ve been together, humming in agreement. You’re thankful he doesn’t point out the darkness of your cheeks- he still flusters you.

“Sounds perfect but what if I have plans?”

“You’ll cancel them.” You say, shrugging like it’s common knowledge and he’s reminded that he’s seen you, hence he knows you’re used to getting your way.

“You’re right. Good thing I’m free then, hm?”

You nod before running your nails up his back, cupping the back of his head as you bring him down for a sweet kiss. He warms all over, humming into your lips before he feels you pat at his shoulders- signaling him to get up so you can move. He does but you stay put, staring at him until he looks around with a confused smile.

“What?”

“Cover your eyes! I have to walk to the bathroom and I’m still naked!” Oh. Aw. How cute. Instead of teasing you, he simply nods but his smile says it all as his hands move to cover his sight.

“And if you even try to peek I’ll beat you up and steal your lunch money!” You huff out and he laughs, that devastating smile making your heart skip.

He hears you shuffle of the bed then stumble a bit before you get your footing then move around, there’s the ruffle of more fabric- probably pants- before nothing.

There’s a sudden quick press of warm softness on his lips and he gasps as your footsteps quickly pad away, the sound of the bathroom door closing seconds later and only then does he put his hands down, a hopelessly enamored grin on his face as he sits on your bed staring into space with the memory of your essence still fresh in his mouth.

Yeah. He was a goner but one thing is for sure: whatever he teaches you next- he’s taking you down with him but he gets the feeling that you’ll surprise him before then.

[wolvietxt]

𝓣HIN 𝓦ALLS.

pairing : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : injury detail (hardly), hurt/comfort, fluff, light angst, neighbour!frank, sensitive reader, no use of y/n summary : you’ve been dealing with a noisy neighbor for weeks, constantly hearing grunts, gun cleaning, and the occasional heavy sigh through the walls. one night, you hear him groan in pain, followed by a loud thud. you knock on his door, only to find frank castle bleeding out on his floor. wc : 2.1k a/n : neighbour!frank idea from @agirlcandream84 thank you so much i adore your neighbour!frank💕 also i wanna make this a little snapshot series lmk if any of you have any ideas

the first time you noticed your neighbor, it wasn’t because of anything he said. it was because of the sounds.  

deep grunts, the metallic clicks of a gun being cleaned, the occasional heavy sigh that made your stomach flip in ways you didn’t want to think about. at first, you tried to ignore it - people made noise, it was an apartment, thin walls weren’t exactly a rare struggle. but after the third night in a row of hearing the same steady rhythm of deep, measured breathing and the scrape of metal, you started to feel a little unnerved.   

he was quiet in the hallways, never said much more than a rough “hey” when you crossed paths. but you noticed things - like the way he never seemed to make eye contact, like he was used to keeping his head down. or how he always smelled like gunpowder and something a little like blood, a little like sweat.   

still, he wasn’t the worst neighbor you could have. he wasn’t throwing parties or blasting music, wasn’t yelling on the phone at odd hours. but there was something about the way his presence filled the silence between you that made you feel hyper-aware of every sound he made. it didn’t help that you were sensitive - jumpy at loud noises, easily overwhelmed when things got too chaotic. so every scrape, every sigh, every muttered curse in that low, gravelly voice of his sent a shiver down your spine.  

you told yourself it wasn’t a big deal.  

until tonight.  

you’d been curled up on your couch, a blanket pulled up to your chin, trying to block out the world with some mindless tv when you heard it - something heavier than usual. a groan, low and rough, followed by a sharp curse. then a thud.   

your stomach twisted.  

for a second, you told yourself to ignore it. it wasn’t your business. but then silence stretched out on the other side of the wall, a kind of stillness that felt wrong. you hesitated for all of two seconds before you were up, hurrying to your front door. your fingers trembled as you knocked.  

no response.  

you knocked again, harder this time.  

“hello?” your voice came out softer than you wanted, barely above a whisper. “are you okay?”  

nothing.  

your heart was hammering as you reached for the doorknob, finding it unlocked. you barely pushed the door open before the smell of blood hit you, sharp and metallic.  

and there he was.  

your neighbor - frank, you remembered hearing someone call him once - was sprawled on the floor, blood seeping through his shirt, his face pale. his breathing was uneven, rough. panic surged through you, your throat tightening.   

“oh my god,” you gasped, dropping to your knees beside him. your hands hovered over him uselessly. “you - you’re bleeding, you’re - ”  

his eyes cracked open, dark and heavy-lidded, scanning you with something slow and unreadable.  

“shit,” he muttered, voice thick with pain. “you shouldn’t be here.”  

but you weren’t listening. your hands were already moving, pressing against the wound even as your eyes burned with unshed tears.  

“you need help,” you choked out. “i - I don’t know what to do, should i call someone? an ambulance - ”  

his hand shot out, gripping your wrist - not rough, but firm.  

“no hospitals,” he ground out.  

you swallowed, chest tight.  

“then - then what do i do?”  

his gaze softened, just a fraction.  

“just stay,” he rasped. “just - keep pressure. don’t go.”  

and even though your hands were shaking and your eyes were threatening to spill over, you nodded.  

your fingers trembled as you pressed harder against the wound, the warmth of his blood seeping through your hands. you sniffled, trying to keep yourself from completely breaking down, but your chest felt too tight, too full of panic.   

“i - i don’t know what i’m doing,” you whispered, voice shaking. “i don’t - i’m not a doctor, i can’t - ”  

“hey.” his voice was rough, but softer now, like he could hear the way your breathing was getting uneven. like he could tell you were a second away from losing it. “you’re doin’ fine. just keep pressure on it.”   

his hand was still on your wrist, warm despite how much blood he was losing. his thumb brushed over your skin, barely there, but the little touch sent a different kind of shiver through you. your brain felt scrambled, like you couldn’t focus on anything except the way he was looking at you now - less sharp, less closed off. like he was seeing you for the first time, really seeing you.   

you swallowed hard, nodding even though your eyes were wet, even though you felt like you were about to burst into tears any second.   

“okay,” you murmured. “okay.”   

you kept pressing down, watching the way his jaw clenched, his breathing rough as he tried not to react. he was tough - you knew that just from the way he carried himself, from the way he never seemed phased by anything. but he was hurt now, bleeding, and the sight of him like this made your chest ache in a way you didn’t know how to handle.   

“what happened?” you asked, voice small.   

he exhaled slowly, blinking up at the ceiling. “got into it with the wrong people.”  

you bit your lip, your fingers twitching where they rested against his stomach. you wanted to ask more, wanted to know what exactly he meant by that, but something about the way he said it told you not to push.   

instead, you focused on keeping pressure on the wound, on the way his breathing evened out just a little under your touch. your own breathing was still unsteady, but he wasn’t looking at you like you were weak. he wasn’t rolling his eyes at how easily you teared up or how your voice trembled when you spoke.  

he just looked... tired. and something else, something softer.  

“you always this jumpy?” he asked after a beat, his voice quieter now.   

your cheeks burned. you tried to wipe at your face with your shoulder, embarrassed at how quickly you’d teared up.   

“sorry,” you mumbled. “i just - i get overwhelmed easily.”  

he hummed, like that made sense to him. his fingers flexed against your wrist again, and you weren’t sure if he even realized he was still holding onto you.   

“s’nothing to apologize for,” he muttered. “just didn’t peg you for the type to come runnin’ to help a guy like me.”   

your brows furrowed. “what’s that supposed to mean?”  

he sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “means i ain’t exactly good company.”  

you frowned at that. you might not have known him well, but you knew enough to know that he kept to himself, that he didn’t bother anyone. sure, he was intimidating - quiet, intense, the kind of person who felt larger than life even when he wasn’t saying a word - but he’d never given you a reason to be afraid of him.  

“that’s not true,” you said before you could stop yourself.   

his eyes opened again, locking onto yours. for a second, it felt like you’d said too much. like you were pushing into something he wasn’t ready to talk about. but then his expression shifted, something in his face relaxing.   

he didn’t say anything right away, just looked at you for a long moment before exhaling through his nose.  

“you got a name?” he asked finally.  

your lips parted in surprise. “you - you don’t know my name?”  

“never asked,” he said simply.   

you blinked at him. you’d lived next door to each other for months. all this time, you thought he just didn’t care to acknowledge you, but now you weren’t so sure.   

“it’s - ” your voice caught, your heart still racing, and for some reason, that made you want to cry all over again. “it’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now,” you said instead, shaking your head. “you should be resting.”   

he watched you for a second longer before huffing out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.   

“crybaby,” he muttered, but it wasn’t mean. wasn’t teasing.   

your face burned again. “am not,” you said weakly, sniffling.   

he smirked, just a little. “sure, sweetheart.”   

your stomach flipped. you didn’t know if it was from the nickname or the fact that he was still bleeding under your hands, but either way, you were feeling way too much at once.  

you looked away, trying to get yourself under control.  

“you should probably get stitched up, right?” you murmured. “have you got a first aid kit?”  

he nodded toward the bathroom. you hesitated, biting your lip, not wanting to take your hands off the wound.  

like he could sense your hesitation, his fingers curled a little tighter around your wrist.  

“i’ll be fine,” he said. “go on, sweetheart.”  

your stomach flipped again. you swallowed hard and nodded, moving quickly toward the bathroom.   

as you rummaged through the cabinet, your heart pounded, your thoughts racing. this was insane. you were in way over your head. but when you came back and saw the way his gaze softened just a little when he saw you again, you knew one thing for sure. you weren’t going anywhere.

you worked as quickly as you could, hands still shaking as you set the first aid kit down beside him. his blood was everywhere - on his shirt, his skin, your hands. the sight of it made your stomach churn, but you forced yourself to focus.  

frank watched you, quiet and steady, even as you fumbled with the supplies. he was still pale, but there was something almost amused in his expression, like he could tell how hard you were trying to hold it together.  

“you done this before?” he asked, voice low.  

you swallowed, shaking your head. “no.”  

his lips twitched, just barely. “figured.”  

your face burned. “you - you don’t have to be mean,” you mumbled, grabbing the antiseptic.   

“ain’t bein’ mean,” he said, and the way he said it made your breath catch. “just think it’s real sweet, you tryin’ so hard.”  

your chest felt too full. you bit your lip, blinking rapidly as you poured the antiseptic onto a cotton pad.   

“i think… this is supposed to hurt. right? it looks like it’s gonna hurt, frank, i don’t know if - ,” you started, unaware of the fact you were beginning to ramble.   

he grunted, cutting you off. “been through worse, sweetheart.”  

your face was still hot as you pressed the pad to the wound, and he tensed beneath your touch, muscles going rigid. you winced, sniffling despite yourself.  

“sorry,” you whispered.   

he exhaled through his nose. “told you, you don’t gotta - ”  

“i do,” you cut in, voice soft but firm. “i do, frank.”  

his expression shifted at that, something unreadable passing over his face. but he didn’t argue. you kept going, hands as steady as you could make them, cleaning the wound and prepping the needle. you hesitated before threading it, biting your lip hard.  

“you sure about no hospital?”  

“positive.”  

you swallowed. “okay.”   

he stayed quiet as you stitched him up, but his hand rested lightly against your knee, his fingers curling slightly whenever you pulled the thread through. it was grounding, in a way - like he was the one keeping you steady, even though he was the one bleeding all over the place.  

by the time you finished, your body was thrumming with nerves, exhaustion, something else you didn’t know how to name. you sat back on your heels, exhaling shakily.  

“all done,” you murmured. “you should rest.”  

frank huffed. “don’t need to be fussed over.”  

your face scrunched up. “you were literally bleeding out on the floor,” you argued, sniffling. “let me fuss.”  

he looked at you, long and hard, before sighing through his nose.  

“fine,” he muttered.   

you moved to stand, but before you could, his hand closed around your wrist again, stopping you.   

your heart skipped.  

“thank you,” he said, quieter this time. like it was hard for him to say, but he meant it.  

your throat tightened. “you’re welcome.”  

he didn’t let go.  

you swallowed, eyes darting to his fingers around your wrist, then back up to his face.  

“i should - um, clean up,” you whispered.  

his grip loosened, but he didn’t pull away.  

“stay,” he murmured instead. “just for a bit.”  

your breath caught.  

he wasn’t looking at you now, but you could see it in the way his jaw was tense, the way his fingers flexed just slightly like he was waiting for you to pull away. like he expected you to.  

but you didn’t.  

“okay,” you whispered, settling back down beside him.   

his shoulders relaxed just a little. his fingers brushed against your wrist one last time before letting go, and you knew, somehow, that this was only the beginning.

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc, @erospecies

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[madebycloud]

No Erase

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh wait.

You forgot one thing.

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

The perfume.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

Finally.

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

—

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

Caitlyn's locker.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

Vi smirks. “Hey,” she greets.

That smirk alone pisses you off.

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

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

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

The audacity? 

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

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

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

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

“No?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe they're not coming at all.

And then you hear footsteps coming your way,

THIS IS IT.

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

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

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

Vi.

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

“Damn, you look good from this angle.” 

WHAT?

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

“Why are you here?”

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

Wait...  that's your letter!

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

How the hell did it end up with her?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That letter is meant for someone else!”

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

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

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

“How did you-”

“Someone put it in my locker.”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you grumble.

“Maybe? so it is yours?”

You avoid her gaze, avoiding her smug look.

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

“STOP READING IT!”

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

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

“You wrote this much for someone?”

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

“What are you, ten?” she retorts.

“And what are you, an idiot?”

“I'm not an idiot, unlike you.”

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

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

“And how the hell would you know?”

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

“They could still-”

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

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

“Maybe I was meant to have it then.”

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

“Maybe it's a sign.”

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

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

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

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

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

She's being weird. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why is that?”

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

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

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

You nod. “Back to normal.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I doubt it.”

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

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

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

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

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

She looks embarrassed.

She's embarrassed?

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

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

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

But you remind yourself, this is Vi.

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

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

—

Time passes by more slowly than a snail.

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

Why is time passing so slowly today?

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hallway is a goddamn mess.

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, what?

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

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

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

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

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

“Glad you came.” 

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

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

“What, no smart shits today?”

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

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

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

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

“...is it like fast?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hold on to what?”

“Me, dumbass. Grab my waist.”

“Hell no.”

“It's for your own safety.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She snorts. “Touchy, aren't we?”

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

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

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

“Just hold on tight.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Candy, huh?”

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

“Why do you know that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Why does she have candy anyway?”

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

“Really?”

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

You nod silently, impressed with this old lady.

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

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

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

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

Vi looks around as well. “Yep.”

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

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

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

“Pretty much.”

You groan. “I hate guys like that.”

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

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

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

You give her a weird look. “Why?”

“Well, you're... y'know… cute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

“Well, I don't.” 

“It's only a kiss.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

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

“Excuse me? I am an excellent kisser.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's no big deal. 

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

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

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

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

You're going to die.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you do it anyway.

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

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

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

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

She's actually gorgeous.

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

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

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

—

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

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

You hum, nodding along.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, oddly enough, you feel safe.

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

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

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

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

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

But... you are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't get it.

What changed?

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

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

And you're still the same.

Everything, suddenly, feels... different.

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

The only thing that hasn't changed is her.

Well, no, that’s a lie.

She has changed.

She feels different.

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

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

Everything is just different.

Maybe the two of you had changed.

But you're not sure how.

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

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

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

For now.

You don't understand.

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

Because you're not sure how to process everything.

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

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

She tilts her head. “I do? Where?”

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

What in ever loving hell are you thinking?

“Hello? you alive over there?”

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

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

Everything feels... slower.

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

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

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

...

Holy shit.

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

Damn it, what the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I got it,” you insist.

“I know you can, but let me.” 

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

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

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

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

“So-”

“I-”

You cough awkwardly. “Go ahead.”

“No, you can speak first-”

“No, no, I insist. Go ahead-”

“I'm fine-”

“Stop being stubborn-”

“Says you-”

“Yeah, I am stubborn-"

“Shut up-”

“Make me-”

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

“Are you challenging me-”

She snorts. “Pfft, no, that-”

“Then why would you say something like that?”

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

“It wasn't.”

“It was a little funny.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I remember, I'm not an idiot.”

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

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

“The feeling is mutual,” you quip back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you at school, then?”

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

“Hey,” she suddenly says.

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

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

You shrug. “Yeah, go ahead.”

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

“I'm not promising anything-”

“Just... humor me.”

“Fine. I promise I won't get mad.”

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

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

“You don't?”

“No... I don't hate you.”

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

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

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

“Yes… that time.”

“Seriously? that was months ago.”

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

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

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

“I was distracted,” she counters.

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

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

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

She falls silent, looking away again.

Wait.

Hold on.

What?

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you want?”

“What was that person's name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Cause, I have a hunch.”

“Care to share this hunch with me?”

“Uh, Caitlyn Kiramman…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Didn't what?”

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

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

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

You shut up.

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

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

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

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

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

Wait... what the actual fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

Prove it.

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

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

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

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

And by god, she will prove herself.

[writingastory]

Rafayel: The Alpha's Fear

Prompt: "For some Alphas, their rut is a wild, uncontrollable experience that makes them nervous. What happens when the Alpha experiences their first rut with their Omega?"

Pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, mentions of nudity

Genre: Omegaverse AU (no Evol, no Wanderers; Alpha!character x Omega!reader; Rafayel is still a Lemurian)

A/N: Let's just say the current banner is unhealthy for my mind and my thighs. Enjoy the first part of this little series-thingy. 😥 Also, I needed a reason to feel my way back into Omegaverse again hehe

Rafayel was utterly and completely out of it.

The thin linen blanket stuck to his naked form, a thin layer of sweat coating his flawless alabaster skin. Despite the blanket only covering him from his hips downward, he felt hot. Too hot. Breathing was difficult; keeping himself together seemed downright impossible.

Countless times he had thought about calling you, telling you to come over immediately - only to literally throw his phone far away from him at one point.

He couldn't burden you with this shit. Not you, not his sweet Omega.

Well, you weren't technically his yet... at least not officially.

He groaned in frustration, setting the AC to an even cooler setting. If he turned the temperature down any lower, he was certain the AC would start blowing snow instead of cold air.

It was just too hot for him to bear.

And it would only get worse. This was just the beginning, the first signs of his impending rut.

The silence was almost deafening, only interrupted by his heavy breathing. His senses were on high alert, so naturally the soft whiff of your scent didn't escape him.

He sat up, brows furrowed. Your scent got stronger and stronger-

"Rafayel? Hello?"

You gasped as you opened the door to his house, immediately taking a few steps backwards, holding your hand over your nose. "Shit," you cursed quietly, trying not to gag. It was intense - the heat, the scent... everything was too much.

Taking a few deep breaths, you tried to calm down. "Rafayel? Are you okay?"

Stupid question.

You could very well smell what the hell was going on. Slowly opening the door to the studio a bit more, you stepped inside his house.

The scent was overwhelming, making you dizzy. Never before had you met an Alpha with such a strong scent. Then again, you never met an Alpha like Rafayel.

You walked through his house carefully, half expecting him to pounce you at any moment. "Raf...? Are you there...?"

Rafayel groaned quietly when he heard you calling out to him. "Leave..." he mumbled, pulling a pillow over his head. He couldn't see you. Not like this, not in this state. There was no telling what he'd do if-

He jerked slightly as your sweet giggle reached his ears.

You had heard shuffling from his bedroom and slowly made your way upstairs. Seeing his phone left on the floor carelessly, you couldn't help but giggle as you picked it up.

"Go away..." he grumbled weakly. "Please..."

You frowned at the hint of desperation in his voice. Maybe you should leave, given that he was obviously rutting and you found yourself being heavily affected by it.

But this was Rafayel - a special Alpha. Your Alpha in a way...

Just leaving like this felt... wrong.

"Rafayel? May I come in..?"

He wanted to say 'no' so badly, just to keep you away from his pathetic self - but he couldn't. All he managed was another pained whine, shortly followed by the sound of the bedroom door being opened.

"Shit-" you hissed, rubbing your arms. "It's freezing in here..."

Your eyes fell on Rafayel's form on the bed, limp, weakened... and utterly beautiful. A prominent flush crawled over his skin, with tiny scales sparkling in the dim light of the room.

A light purr escaped you as you inched closer to the bed, ignoring the cold biting your skin.

"Cutie..." he whimpered, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. "You shouldn't be here..."

You looked at him in awe, and sat down at the edge of the bed. "You want me to leave?"

Rafayel winced; you sounded almost hurt. "Yes... no... I'm-"

He exhaled deeply, shaking his head. On the inside, he was battling himself, trying to keep the upper hand over his instincts just screaming at him to finally bed you and officially make you his.

"Damn, your burning up," you whispered, feeling his forehead and cheeks gently. "It's gonna get worse..." he answered quietly, leaning into your touch. "You really shouldn't be here. I could hurt you..."

"Hurt me..?"

Your fingers traced the many scales on his face and neck gently - until a growl ripped your out of your trance.

"Don't," Rafayel hissed, pulling your hand away harshly. You apologized quickly, trying to break free from his grip.

He groaned in frustration and loosened his grip on your wrist a bit. "Omega..." His voice was barely above a whisper. Soft lips found the sensitive skin of your wrist, planting a gentle kiss there before inhaling your sweet scent greedily.

"Yes... Alpha?"

A sound close to a moan escaped him at your words, his insides clenching painfully. Why were you doing this? Why were you tormenting him like this?

"You're trembling," he noticed, looking up at you with a light frown. You smiled sheepishly, nodding at the AC.

Rafayel hummed deeply, finally letting go of you. "Leave," he said once more, closing his eyes again.

"I don't want to."

The words left your mouth before you could even fully register what he said.

"I want to stay here... with you..."

"Sweet Omega," he breathed heavily, as if it took every bit of his strength to speak. "I'm barely keeping it together. If you stay..."

"I'm not helpless, Rafayel," you said, standing up slowly. "Unless you want another Omega... I won't leave."

Another Omega? Why would he want another, when the one he wanted was right there with him?

He wailed at the accusation, sitting up abruptly. "I'm trying to protect you, Cutie."

"From what? You think I can't take you in your rut?"

Rafayel glared up at you, his arms trembling from the effort of keeping him upright.

"I don't think you can take mindless mating, knotting, and bonding."

You swallowed thickly, the weight of the situation slowly getting to you. "Would it... be mindless though?"

A shiver ran up your spine - not because of the intense cold air. "I mean... did we not talk about it many times already? Did we not agree... to bond? Make it official?"

Rafayel let himself fall into the pillows again, his resolve crumbling. "Cutie, please..."

"I can take it. Take.. everything.."

He could swear he felt the thread snap that was holding his last bit of sanity. With a growl, he lifted the blanket up.

"Get in here, Omega."

You bit your lip, excitement rushing through you. Before you could answer, he spoke up again.

"Now."

[revelboo]

Finally managed to catch up with Everything is alright and damn, it sure is one hell of a ride! Poor reader really can't catch a breath Also, as someone who struggle with reading fics bc english isn't my first language and it ask way more focus, I really love your way of writing, makes it way easier to follow! I read a lot of your others texts to and I really love your writing, thank you so much for all of this!

Thank you! I tend to write in a stream of conscious style rather than proper sentence structures- basically I write how my brain thinks. Aside from tense and that physical descriptions and details aren’t really more than broad strokes, this is how I normally write.

Thank y’all for all the Valentine’s Day messages, I got a bit overwhelmed with them 🤣

Everything Is Alright Pt 133

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• You’d fallen asleep tangled in him at some point since he wasn’t willing to release your connection with his spark just yet. The fact that you trust him enough to rest in his arms while you’re so vulnerable aching sweetly in his spark. Monitoring you, sifting through your light and warmth again and again. Hunting. Until he finds what he’s looking for. So much tinier than Starscream’s new spark had been when he’d discovered it, just a pinpoint of light nestled within you. Remembers the frantic way you’d evaded him when he’d tried to fully bond you the first time, not even knowing you were sparked at the time, but still instinctively trying to protect Starscream’s new spark. Crooning shakily, he tucks you more firmly against his frame as he wraps himself more firmly around your light.

• Letting himself back into his habsuite, Megatron scowls. “You know I meant for you to talk it out, not frag in my berth,” he mutters, watching Soundwave shift slightly, tucking you more under him as you make a sleepy sound. That protective gesture making his spark ache as he pointedly doesn’t react and sits on the berth near the two of you. Venting when he realizes you’re sleeping, arms tucked against yourself as Soundwave’s grin tightens. “Did you spark our little mate?” Still feels so strange to call you his. To make that claim on a human. Never would have imagined he’d be in a situation like this. Wants to despise you for what you’d done to him even if it had been an accident, but can’t even manage that. He’d reached out to you, tried to save you.

• Our. Cupping the back of your head when you bury your face against his neck, he has to remind himself that he trusts Megatron. Always has. Had hung all his hopes for a better future on the shoulders of that angry gladiator. Sacrificed so much to follow him. But this is different. Has the overwhelming urge to tuck you inside his cassette compartment and just keep you there. Safe under his protection. “Yes,” he makes himself say. Doesn’t want to share you with Starscream or Megatron, not while you’re sparked with his young.

• “You’re not going to apologize for dragging me into this mess, are you, old friend?” Something about the way Soundwave is holding you is so intimate it makes his spark ache. What would he be like if you were sparked with his young? Would he allow either of the other two anywhere near you? “I’m not going to play carrier for your sparkling, too,” he adds, feeling so tired. And he doesn’t even know if you only passed the spark to him because you were in distress and scared for your sparkling, or if that’s going to happen every time. Has no idea what to expect since you’re organic.

• Rubbing his chin against the top of your head, Soundwave croons to you. Feeling guilty since he’d been pushing you and Megatron together, trying to bind you together for your safety. Still playing the long game, positioning pieces how he wants them. Manipulating. He’s always done what was necessary, but now he’s no longer sure if he’s doing what’s best for the cause, for his people, or just what he wants. A family. A different future. “Angry?” He asks, trying to ignore that faint whisper of unease at being so small. Aware of the warlord watching him, expression calculating before his optics narrow, shaking his head.

Previous

[lilacxquartz]

jjk x reader: their love language 💓

scenario: how they would show you they love you — included: satoru gojo, choso kamo, kento nanami & shoko ieiri — themes: fluff, romance, established relationships, slightly suggestive content — w.c: under 400 words each • masterlist • on ao3

a/n: valentines weekend! so, today is jjk themed 🫶

Satoru Gojo: [Touch]

For a man with a schedule as hectic and overwhelming as his own, Satoru always, no matter what, made some extra time for you. He could be at the verge of collapse with his eyelids drooping shut, but he’d always—without fail—find a way to keep you involved.

For the better part, the bulk of his perverted little teasing texts were largely all talk—not because he enjoyed leaving you hanging—but due to being physically spent by the end of the day. When it could happen though? What a bonus that was—what an absolute treat.

He’d otherwise wrap his arms right around you, holding onto you so very tight; his lips pressing against the crook of your neck, refusing to part. Satoru would pull you close to him, reeling your back against his chest, caging you in however he could.

Sometimes, you’d fall asleep just like this, with you being his place of comfort. His safe space, but, should he have enough stamina for the day, then he’d make you both feel good.

Satoru, after all, if he could get his hands on you—all around you—would not be able to stop at just a simple touch. His affection would linger and seek to mingle with any sort of potential pleasure because you were just that perfect in his eyes.

But again, it wasn’t the only thing.

Above the heat that he felt for you, he was also just content with the warmth you provided, whatever form that took place in.

~~~

Choso Kamo: [Quality Time]

Choso, who was still very new to embracing humanity, was even more inexperienced when it came to the concept of romantic relationships. All he had ever known before was a platonic and protective sort of love, which by the way—did carry onto you for the most part—but then he started to love you differently.

For a while, any sort of physical touch, however, was overwhelming for him and he proposed the compromise of taking it slowly with you out of a deep-rooted fear of accidentally hurting you. You’d instead sit with each other in the same space, just quietly attending to your own things, getting used to each other’s company.

After a while, too, he began to get more comfortable with you and he’d hold onto your hand tighter, or the hugs he gave would linger. Despite this, he never once rushed you, letting anything physical beyond that reach fall into place naturally.

Organically.

In short, he simply just loved you by being with you.

It was all he ever wanted and craved.

~~~

Kento Nanami: Communication

Kento was a surprisingly nervous man outside of his cool work demeanour. You and him were both sorcerers who both worked in a dangerous profession, so he developed an anxious habit of fussing and worrying about you over the years.

As such, Kento developed an almost compulsive need with needing to know what you were doing, no matter how mundane. At first, he thought that he was overbearing, but to his surprise and comfort, you informed him that you didn’t even mind! What joy! Ever since then, he was an always lurking, constant presence in your life.

Every morning, if you had different missions, he’d ask you for a good morning selfie, or if you were making breakfast, he wanted the partial process and the end result. Even when you were doing your skincare or just reading a book, he always wanted to know what it was that his perfect wife was up to.

Beyond that, he loved listening to you talk.

Should you share the bed on a rare night together, then he could spend hours listening to you ramble away.

He’d be disappointed when you stopped, of course, but then he’d get to hold you throughout the night when you were all talked out.

And safe in his arms.

~~~

Shoko Ieiri: Acts of Service

Admittedly, Shoko became a sorcerer for monetary reasons. There was nothing quite like the salary of a sorcerer and she was in extreme demand with her reverse cursed technique. Throughout the years however, even despite her pricy habits, she never really had a chance to spoil herself.

So, when you came along, it was the first thing that she did. Right away, she knew that she wanted to spoil the hell out of you.

This wouldn’t be just limited to just money, though, oh no, no. She would massage you, daily, after missions and cook you dinner if she had the energy. She’d spend ages just holding you, running lazy circles along your skin (and at times, between your thighs and even further than that).

What came to her as the biggest surprise, however, was when you started matching her in that same way. Suddenly, she was the spoiled one with flowers showing up in the med bay for her, or her lunch being packed or paid for. She’d often find a hot bath waiting for her when she got home or sometimes you’d treat her to a spa night, taking care of her skincare for when she was too tired to do so.

It was little things like that that helped her feel so important and of course, she knew you felt the same way.

The two of you were in fact, perfect for each other from the very start.

[mysterymessmachine]

"Absolutely preposterous," huffs the king. He tiptoes over a loaded tripwire and around a series of pressure-activated tiles in the floor, "That one should have to live one's life in such a manner, all because of some silly rumor!"

He stops in front of a large wooden door, disproportionate both in size and adornment to the other doors in this wing. A polished gold placard hangs between large glittering swirls on the door: HEAD OF CASTLE SECURITY. Straightening his robe and his posture, he allows himself a single deep breath.

Not quite as centering has he'd hoped, but he cannot allow any heresay around the castle about a king who presents himself as anything less than divine. Reputation, after all, is crucial to the continuation of the monarchy. He knocks sharply.

Beneath the placard, a small panel pops open. Familiar eyes peer out from the darkness, adjusting to the harsh light invading. The pain held in the moment before that familiarity is returned to him is enough to fell his best soldiers, and he falters. But appearances are everything and that moment is quite a bit shorter than the eternity it seems to last, so he remains.

An unfamiliar mix of emotions washes out the brightness in her eyes. She snaps, muffled by the heavy door, "You know you're not supposed to be here."

He clears his throat to mask his surprise at her abrupt disrespect. This was going to be more difficult than expected. Puffing up slightly, he shifts his stance wider.

"Enough is enough, Princess. You are not permitted to simply change the passwords on these... these... 'pets' that you weren't allowed in the first place! We need to move past this childish prophecy." He lifts his evidence, the still-smoldering edges of his very important scrolls, into view of the window.

"Father, you must understand that I take my role as Head of Castle Security with the utmost seriousness. That wizard predicted that my mistakes are the reason you'll be killed. I can't allow myself to rest. I have to fix it. I need to. I can't stop until I know you're safe."

He sighs softly, knowing better than to push any further, and listens as she rambles about her elaborate plans to disprove the prophecy by vowing to keep him safe. Eventually, the hatch snaps shut again, and the entire wing fills with an uncomfortable, overwhelming silence. After a glance around to ensure none of the staff witnessed an episode this time, he strolls off to the dining hall. Tonight is the first time in months that the entire family is allowed to eat together, and he'd rather like to be early.

A dull roar seeps from the dining hall, creeping to the end of the corridor, and the king smiles. A small sigh of relief accompanies a rush of warm feelings. Loud, busy dining halls mean seats occupied by loved ones and tables overflowing with feasts. His pace quickens.

The hall was, as expected, filled with family and food. It was also packed shoulder-to-shoulder with his entire guard, attack 'pets,' wizards, assassins, archers, and, of course, plenty of traps. The loudest guests, however, were all of the subjects in the kingdom. With the castle walls unattended, they had slipped the gates and gathered around outside the windows to watch the circus required just for the king to eat his dinner.

He pales at the sight, grasping desperately for his heart through his chest and crumpling to the floor. Reputation, after all, is crucial to the continuation of the monarchy.

a king has received the standard prophecy that his youngest daughter will be the one to kill him but instead of reacting as "get this baby out of my sight and abandon it somewhere in the woods for it to die" he accepts his fate and dinner time is made very awkward.

[gam3r-girli3]

arthur morgan with an s/o who has anxiety

trigger warnings: includes sensitive subjects such as anxiety & mental health. do not read if you are triggered by these.

a/n: i fucking love arthur morgan <3

(gif border isn't mine, credit to owner)

Mental health wasn't something people openly talked about or even acknowledged back in those days. If someone was mentally ill, they were deemed mad or insane and that was that

But I feel like Arthur would be one of the most understanding people in the gang when you open up about your struggles with anxiety. He's often felt it himself, maybe not to the same extent but enough to understand

Which is why he becomes very caring and willing to do anything it takes to help you cope and manage

He'll wrap his big bear arms around you and hug you as tight as he can (careful not to squeeze too tight) until your shaky, panicked breaths slowly subside

He'll keep holding you after your panic attack subsides until you say otherwise

Placing gentle kisses on your head; murmuring things to you in his deep, warm voice; the stubble on his chin tickling your skin

"It's alright, darlin'. You're okay, I gotcha."

He'd be so gentle and attentive after, constantly checking on you and asking how you're feeling, if you need anything, and then adding, "You know I love ya, right? You know nothin's ever gonna stop me from lovin' ya."

If Dutch has him away from camp, scouting out another one of his 'grand plans', Arthur will ask someone he trusts (either Charles, Mary-Beth, Hosea, Tilly, or even little Jack) to watch out for you and make sure you're okay

(Jack is more than happy to be given an important task like this and, determined not to let his Uncle Arthur down, he decides to make you some flower chains since they always cheer his momma up when he makes them for her)

Though he'd never directly tell you (instead shrugging it off as 'jus' somethin' I found on my travels') he'd go to doctors, general stores, anywhere he thought he could find something to help soothe your anxious mind

He even talked to Hosea and asked him for advice on how to support you and help you, knowing Bessie had also struggled with anxiety in the past

On mornings when you'd have been awake all night, overwhelmed with intrusive and worrisome thoughts, Arthur would manage to get Grimshaw to let you off the hook from your chores, bringing you a streaming cup of tea in bed and holding you in his arms for however long it took until you could fall asleep and get the rest you need

Nobody could pry him from you at times when you desperately needed him, not even Dutch. His first priority is, and always will be, you and making sure you're okay

His love and support doesn't make your anxiety magically go away but it does help to know that Arthur is there for you whenever things get bad ♡

[concretejunglefm]

Oooh, if you're up for writting mutual masturbation also with Noah, I wouldn't mind that at all (not stepbro tho, just Noah lol).

Or if not that, then maybe face sitting with Noah so this request doesn't go to waste muhehe bye

CW: mutual masturbation, dry humping, men whimpering and rambling ig?

NSFW below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

Mutual masturbation with best friend!Noah?

The same best friend you have no problem sharing a bed with. It’s not like he’d notice if you started slowly grinding against the pillow you’ve placed between your thighs for comfort, because there’s just a slight dull ache you need to satisfy before you can really fall asleep. You can hear his breathing and it's soft enough to convince you he’s asleep anyway, until…

“What are you doing?” Noah’s voice pierces through the room, causing you to freeze and halt any movement you’re making.

“Nothing.” You lie, hoping he won’t notice it.

“You were rocking the bed.”

Damnit. You thought you had been more discreet, but apparently, that was not the case.

“If you need any help—”

“No, I don’t,” you huff, while he chuckles. It’s not the first time he’s offered, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep declining his offers.

After a moment, you hear him ask, “What do you need?”

You’re hesitant when you roll over and onto your back, a bit tentative because the last time this happened, you both promised it would be the last time. Apparently, that rule has been broken. “You know what…” you mumble.

The light from the TV you’ve left on as a source of light and background noise to help you fall asleep illuminates the room just enough to make out his face. “Okay,” he nods, and this time there’s no witty remark on the tip of his tongue. You watch as he slowly pushes down the covers, exposing his bare, tattooed chest while his hand deliberately sinks deeper beneath them and into his boxers.

You watch the way the covers move above him as he strokes himself, first to full hardness before he begins fisting his cock in the manner he would when he’s alone. That's what you'd asked to see the first time it occurred; a genuine masturbation. You wanted to hear the actual sounds made when someone lets themselves go, nothing fake like in a porn video, and he willingly provided it to you then, just as he was doing now.

You roll onto your front, keeping the pillow tucked between your thighs. You rest your head against the pillow at the top of the bed and continue watching him as your hips roll to grind against the one between your thighs, dragging yourself along it.

Noah is quick to align with your wish; he whimpers and rambles about how much he wants and needs you, even looking down at you as he speaks. While you convince yourself that it’s all part of your fantasy, you can’t help but notice the hint of desperation in his voice, suggesting that this isn’t just for show.

When you know he's reaching closer to his climax, your hips grind harder, and you can’t suppress your moans. Your gaze rises to his face, and you find his eyes already fixed on you, as if he’s utterly captivated by you. You dare to touch him, running your hand across his tattooed chest. With your touch, he finally succumbs to his release, and you’re overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure in that very moment, too. It makes you whine as you buck against the pillow, your nails digging into and scratching across his chest.

Neither of you moves; instead, you bask in the blissful afterglow for a moment longer. Noah’s free hand gently lifts to yours, laid upon his chest, and slowly strokes along your arm. It’s a tender touch, the only one you ever share after a moment like this. Then, you feel the soft press of his lips against your crown as he whispers, “I’ll clean up.” Slipping himself from beneath the covers, he walks over to the bathroom, while you remain in place for a moment longer.

[xoxorealitygalore]

Plan B 5

Jey Uso x Afro-Brazilian OC

Summary: In her thirties and single after a breakup, Hamisa decides she wants to become a mother, despite her friends' and family's objections. Unable to wait any longer, she chooses to have a baby on her own. However, she unknowingly ends up using her ex-boyfriend sperm after he drunkenly swapped her donor’s sample for his own. As Hamisa raises her child, she starts noticing striking similarities between her ex-boyfriend and her baby, leading to questions about the true origins of her child's conception.

Plan B Masterlist

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae @blackchickinthedesert @princess-saki1 @skyesthebomb @raya-hunter01 @theusotwinzcom @yana3sworld @mindairy

Previous

Liked by belmirawoo, itsmebayley, uceyjucey, and 4,783,913 others

hamisawoo Another year older, another year bolder. Being born on Valentine’s Day, a day to celebrate love, not only for others but for the most important person in my life: myself, fills me with so much joy and gratitude. Reflecting on the journey so far, I’m overwhelmed with appreciation for all the lessons, challenges, growth, and amazing souls I’ve encountered along the way. Life truly has a way of surprising you, and this past year has been a testament to that. Every high, every low, every twist and turn has been a stepping stone that’s led me closer to my true purpose. I’m more excited than ever for the adventure that lies ahead.

This birthday feels different, more special than ever. It's a reminder of how far I’ve come, of how much strength I’ve gained, how much wisdom I’ve acquired, and how much more there is to learn and explore. 36 feels like the perfect mix of reflection and anticipation. It’s a time to look back and appreciate the journey so far, but also to look ahead with hope, confidence, and excitement. Life continues to unfold in beautiful, unexpected ways, and I can’t wait to see where it takes me.

Here’s to continuing to chase my dreams, to stepping outside of my comfort zone, to being bold and unapologetic in my pursuit of happiness, and to embracing every single moment with open arms. I’ve learned that life is a series of beautiful moments, some easy, some challenging but all full of growth and love. Thank you to everyone who’s been a part of my journey so far, your love, your support, and your positive energy have made all the difference. I’m so grateful for each and every one of you.

Cheers to another year of growth, new experiences, and endless possibilities. Here’s to making 36 the best year yet and to living each day with purpose, passion, and love. 💖💫 #BirthdayVibes #ValentinesDay #36AndClimbing #GratefulHeart #AnotherYearWiser #NewBeginnings #LoveAndGrowth #EmbraceTheJourney

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Hamisa stirred in the bed, the quiet hum of the morning surrounding her as the first light of the day streamed softly through the sheer curtains. Her eyes, heavy with sleep, struggled to focus as her daughter, Jhream, crawled energetically all over her.

The room was bathed in a gentle, golden glow, the sun beginning its slow climb into the sky, illuminating the cozy space in soft warmth.

“Mama!” Jhream squealed, her little hands reaching up toward her mother’s face, the excited sound filling the room.

Hamisa couldn’t help but smile at the sheer joy that radiated from her daughter. Her giggles were infectious, lighting up the room in a way only a child could.

Hamisa rolled over with a soft, contented yawn, stretching her body beneath the weight of the comforter, her muscles still heavy with sleep. The past few weeks had been a blur, with travel, work, and the constant joy and challenge of motherhood.

But today was different. Today was her birthday and the first one she would celebrate with her daughter.

"Okay, Jhream, I’m up," Hamisa murmured, blinking slowly as her eyes adjusted to the bright morning light. Her voice was warm, still thick with sleep, but there was a lightness to it. A sense of happiness that came from the simple joy of being with her child.

The peacefulness of the morning was broken only by her daughter's playful squirming and gleeful laughter, but there was something comforting about it. The sound of a child who had no concept of time, no awareness of the rush of the world outside. For Hamisa, these small moments of chaos were a grounding force. They were a reminder of what mattered most.

She sat up, her muscles protesting but slowly coming to life as she cradled Jhream in her arms. The little girl’s hands clapped together in excitement, and her joyful babble filled the room, a melody of innocence and love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jhream. And happy birthday to me,” Hamisa whispered, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s soft, chubby cheek.

Jhream responded with an excited squeal, her baby-like babble sweet and endearing, as though she were trying to mimic her mother’s words.

Hamisa’s heart swirled with emotion as she gazed down at the baby girl in her arms. The day held so much more significance now, with Jhream in her life. Not only was it a day to celebrate love, but it was also a day to celebrate herself and the new woman she had become after becoming a mother.

After a few moments, Hamisa stood, lifting Jhream gently in her arms as she began to prepare for the day ahead. She had work to do. SmackDown was in Washington, D.C. that evening, and she would be backstage interviewing the wrestlers. But it was also her birthday, and she was determined to find joy in the little moments before she had to work tonight.

The shower was next. Hamisa and Jhream hopped in, the warm water cascading over them as Hamisa hummed a soft tune, enjoying the warmth of the water and the peaceful rhythm of their morning routine.

The sound of the water mingled with Jhream’s laughter as she splashed in the tub, a reminder of how much she had grown since those early days of sleepless nights and endless feedings. Now, here they were, both together, in a place of calm after the whirlwind of the past few months.

Once they were both dressed, Hamisa chose a comfortable outfit for the day, a simple black shirt paired with leggings and white and black Nike high-tops. She wanted to be stylish but also practical, as her day would involve a lot of moving around, both for work and for the plans that Joshua had set for her birthday celebration.

Jhream, of course, was dressed in a similarly stylish outfit: black pants and a white shirt, paired with her own white and black Nike high-tops, matching her mother most sweetly. The two of them looked effortlessly coordinated, a picture of understated comfort as they prepared to step out into the world.

Hamisa carefully packed Jhream’s diaper bag, checking off the items she would need for the day like extra diapers, wipes, a change of clothes, and a few snacks to keep the little one happy throughout the morning. She grabbed her duffle bag with her essentials and made sure to grab the Nuna stroller and car seat for Jhream. With everything in place, they were ready to start their day.

The elevator ride down to the lobby was filled with the usual excitement of Jhream’s giggles and squeals as she explored the world around her. Hamisa glanced at her phone as they waited, checking the messages that had come in overnight.

Her friends and family had all been busy sending well wishes for her birthday, which was always special, especially since it fell on Valentine’s Day. It was a day that was shared by many, but the messages from those who truly cared made her feel special, made her feel seen.

As the elevator doors opened with a soft chime, they stepped into the lobby of the hotel. The energy of the morning seemed to be building as they made their way toward the exit, and that’s when Hamisa spotted Jon and Trinity standing before them, broad smiles stretched across their faces.

Jon immediately crouched down to tickle Jhream, causing the little girl to erupt into delighted giggles. Her laughter filled the air, a sound so pure and joyful that it seemed to lift the spirits of everyone in the lobby. Trinity smiled warmly at the energetic little one, waving at her excitedly as she bounced in her stroller.

“Happy birthday, Hamisa!” Jon and Trinity said in unison, their voices full of genuine excitement and joy.

“Thank you,” Hamisa said, her smile reaching her eyes as she greeted her friends. The warmth of their affection made her feel even more appreciated on her special day.

As they made their way toward the hotel entrance, Jon and Trinity revealed their plan for the morning. “We’re having a Valentine’s Day breakfast,” Jon announced, his voice filled with excitement.

Hamisa chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I don’t have anything planned. I was probably just going to walk around the city with Jhream before heading to the arena,” she replied, the idea of a quiet morning stroll appealing to her in its simplicity.

Jon grinned mischievously. “Well, that’s not all. You have a gift waiting for you,” he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Hamisa raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “How do you know that?” she asked, her tone playful. She hadn’t expected any surprises, but now, Jon had piqued her interest.

“Jhream told me,” Jon replied, his grin widening as he glanced down at the baby in the stroller.

Jhream, who seemed to be fully aware of the conversation happening around her, giggled in response, as though she were in on the secret. Hamisa couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of her daughter being involved in such a fun little conspiracy.

And then, just as they were about to exit the hotel, a familiar face appeared. Joshua walked toward them, carrying two beautiful bouquets of red roses in his hands. One bouquet was small, just the right size for Jhream to hold.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jhream,” Joshua said, his voice filled with affection. He presented the flowers to his daughter, who immediately let out a joyful cry, her little hands reaching for the roses.

“Dada! Dada!” Jhream cried out, her face lighting up with excitement at the sight of her father.

Joshua turned to Hamisa next, handing her the larger bouquet of roses with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Hamisa, and Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, his voice sincere and affectionate.

Hamisa felt a wave of warmth wash over her as she took the flowers from him. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice soft but filled with gratitude. The bouquet was beautiful, and the thoughtfulness behind the gesture was something that made her feel deeply loved.

After Jon and Trinity said their goodbyes and went on their way, Joshua turned to Hamisa, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, let’s go start your birthday slash Valentine’s celebration,” he said, his voice full of excitement.

Hamisa, now fully awake and eager to enjoy the day, looked up at him with curiosity. “Where are we going?” she asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“First breakfast, then your first birthday surprise,” Joshua answered with a wink as he took her hand.

Hamisa’s heart fluttered with anticipation. This was her day. Her birthday, her Valentine’s Day and she couldn’t wait to see what surprises lay ahead.

Joshua led them to his rental car, and as Hamisa looked him over, she noticed that they were matching with all three of them wearing simple outfits, completed by their white and black Nike high-tops. Hamisa shook her head, they always somehow ended up matching. Now everyone is going to think they planned to coordinate with each other.

Joshua placed Jhream’s car seat in the back of the car. Joshua made sure he secured the car seat and then got into the front seat while Hamisa climbed in next to him. He glanced over at Hamisa and smiled.

“Let’s go!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Jhream screamed in excitement from the backseat, clearly delighted by the prospect of the day ahead.

“She’s a mini-me for real,” Joshua said, smiling fondly at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

“She got nothing from me,” Hamisa teased, pretending to be sad.

“She got your hair,” Joshua pointed out with a chuckle.

Hamisa rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. The simple banter between them made her heart feel light, and as they drove to their breakfast destination, she realized just how much she had to be thankful for.

The car ride was filled with laughter and light-hearted conversation. Hamisa glanced at Joshua, watching the way his face softened as he glanced at Jhream through the rearview mirror. His love for their daughter was evident in every glance, in every smile, and in the way he spoke to her.

"Where are we going for breakfast?" Hamisa asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. She hadn’t expected to be swept into the excitement of the day so quickly, but now she found herself looking forward to every moment.

Joshua gave her a playful look, one that suggested he was relishing the mystery of the day. "You’ll see," he said with a wink, clearly enjoying the suspense.

The city of Washington, D.C. was still waking up, the streets quieter than usual as the early morning light began to illuminate the buildings, casting long shadows that slowly faded into the brightness of the day.

The car hummed along, and Hamisa felt a sense of calm settle over her. She’d never been one to make a big fuss over her birthday, but today felt different. It wasn’t about grand gestures or extravagant surprises. It was about sharing simple, meaningful moments with the people she loved most.

As they pulled into the parking lot of a charming little café, Hamisa’s eyes widened with surprise. The building, with its rustic exterior and large windows, had a cozy, welcoming vibe. It looked like the perfect place to spend a relaxed morning.

"Surprise," Joshua said, his voice soft and warm. "I thought this would be a good spot for a quiet breakfast with the two people I love the most."

Hamisa couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment. "It’s perfect," she replied, her heart swelling with gratitude. She knew that it wasn’t about the place or the food, but the thought and care behind it.

They got out of the car, and Joshua helped Hamisa with the stroller. Jhream, who had been giggling in the backseat, was now wide-eyed and curious as she gazed around, taking in the new sights. The little girl clapped her hands excitedly, her joyful energy filling the air once again.

Inside the café, the atmosphere was warm and intimate. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mixing with the sweet scent of pastries and bread. The décor was simple but beautiful wooden tables, soft lighting, and plants hanging from the ceiling, giving the space a cozy, almost homey feel. It felt like a place where time slowed down, where you could just sit and enjoy the company of those around you.

Joshua led them to a corner table by the window, where the sunlight filtered through the glass, casting a soft glow on the table. Hamisa took a seat, settling Jhream into her lap, and Joshua sat across from them, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he watched Hamisa’s reaction to the surprise.

"I thought we could have a quiet morning," he said, his voice tender. "Just us three. A little break from the chaos of the world."

Hamisa nodded, her heart full. "I love it," she said, glancing out the window at the city beyond. "It’s exactly what I needed."

The waitress soon arrived, her smile warm and welcoming as she took their order. Hamisa, content at the moment, wasn’t in a rush. She had no reason to hurry as today was about the small moments that made life beautiful.

As they waited for their food, Joshua pulled out a small box from his bag. "Before breakfast," he said, holding it out to Hamisa, "I have something for you."

Hamisa raised an eyebrow, surprised by the gesture. "Joshua, you’ve already given me the roses…"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "This is just a little something to make your birthday extra special."

Hamisa opened the box, her breath catching when she saw what was inside. Nestled in the velvet lining was a delicate charm bracelet. It was gold links engraved with Jhream’s initials and charms, each one representing a piece of her. It was a beautiful and meaningful piece of jewelry that Hamisa could wear every day.

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at Joshua, her voice choked with emotion. "It’s perfect," she whispered. "I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t need to say anything," Joshua replied softly. "I just want you to know how much you mean to me. How much our little family means to me."

Hamisa’s heart swelled with love. The simple gesture, and the thoughtfulness behind it. It was perfect.

After a quiet, intimate breakfast, they headed to Hammer & Stain Rockville, a craft studio known for its unique, hands-on experiences. The space was alive with creative energy as all types of couples, families, and friends were gathered around tables, painting and creating their masterpieces.

The studio had a variety of activities, from pottery painting to personalized signs, and the air was filled with laughter and the soft hum of conversations.

Hamisa looked around, taking in the colorful displays of art and craft supplies. Joshua had arranged for them to create personalized items as a family, and it was the perfect way to spend time together on her special day.

They sat down at a table together, and Joshua set to work on a wooden sign, while Hamisa painted a small canvas, her brush strokes slow and thoughtful. Jhream, who was already entranced by the array of colors and textures, tried to grab the paintbrushes, giggling as she smeared a little bit of paint on her fingers.

"This is perfect," Hamisa said softly as she worked, glancing over at Joshua. "I love that we’re doing this together."

Joshua smiled, his expression soft and content. "Me too," he said. "Every little piece of our lives matters. Every moment we spend together is special."

As the afternoon drew on, they finished their projects and packed up their things, feeling proud of the small, beautiful creations they had made. The simplicity of the activity, the shared experience, was exactly what Hamisa had needed a reminder that love wasn’t always about grand gestures, but about the little moments that made life worth living.

By the time they headed back to the hotel to get ready for SmackDown, Hamisa felt more relaxed and content than she had in a long time. The day had been full of surprises, laughter, and connection. There had been no rush, no pressure. Just love. As they made their way back to the hotel, Hamisa couldn’t help but reflect on how lucky she was to have this life. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was hers.

Joshua helped her get Jhream ready for the trip to the arena. After a quick change and a few final preparations, they were ready to head out.

As they left the hotel, Joshua leaned over and kissed Hamisa on the cheek. "Thank you for being born today."

Hamisa smiled, her heart full. "Thank you for making my birthday and Valentine's Day so perfect," she replied.

They made their way to the car, ready to finish the day with the energy and excitement of SmackDown ahead.

Next

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Eighteen

I didn't think I'd go this long without posting for this, or at all, but life kinda killed me ngl, and so did school. But I'm alive and here's another chapter of our favorite boys, plus y/n!

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: We get down to business, and y/n starts her first day as an official member of Ateez! wc: 1.6k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: pet names, fireman carrying, scenting, mentions of being anxious and embarrassed, I think that's it! masterlist

 Y/n was woken up by the sounds of footsteps in the dorms, opening her eyes to find that she was still embraced by San.

“Good morning baby, did you sleep well?” The beta asked her, already awake. A bit too disoriented still by the cacophony of noise, and still a bit overwhelmed from the last time she was awake, she just nodded. San chuckled before explaining the chaos, “It’s a bit loud, isn’t it? This is what mornings are like when we forget that we have to be up at a decent hour. You should go ahead and get up too, we have to go into the company today, for you, to start preparing for our next comeback.”

Y/n slowly sat up, watching as the others ran around the dorms, a couple of them running around from one part of the dorm to another, too busy to notice that she was awake. She groaned as she sat up further, feeling her body protest, but she sat up fully, as San’s hand came up to support her back. She smiles gratefully at the beta, before pushing herself off the couch, and reaching back to pull the bulkier man up as well.

“We should get dressed ourselves, shouldn’t we?” She asked him, to which he nodded in response.

The two of them walked down to her room, the beta leaving her there as he walked further down the hallway to his own room. She entered her room, finding that one of the others must have unpacked a few of her things, and from the organization of it all, it was Seonghwa who did so. She found that her clothes were still packed away, which she was grateful for the elder omega respecting her privacy.  She quickly picked out an outfit, finding one that was comfy yet also not too casual looking, and that was also easy to move in. She quickly packed up a bag with everything she needed, including another change of clothes, just to be on the safe side. Emerging from her room, she heard voices from the main room of the dorm, and once she got there, she found that everyone but Jongho was there.

“Good morning y/n-ah, how are you?” Seonghwa asked, coming over to her when she was noticed. “Good morning Seonghwa-oppa,” she said, “I’m doing well, I’m a bit nervous though.” She admitted, feeling able to share her feelings with her fellow omega.

“It will be okay. Today is mostly a show you the ropes day, and also for Hongjoong to try and insert you on the track as well, even if it might be a bit too late to get you in for any of the album material. But with an upcoming tour next year, it’s easier to get things done now, than to wait.” Seonghwa explained, trying to ease her nerves.

Hongjoong caught everyone’s attention as he stood up. “The vans are here,” he announced, “Everyone grab your things and head downstairs.” That spurred everyone into moving, as everyone shuffled to grab their bag or bags and leave the apartment. Y/n slung her own bag onto her shoulder, and with Seonghwa’s guidance, left the apartment. Yunho followed behind the two of them, and when they reached the first floor, headed into the second of two vans. When y/n climbed in, she found that San was the only one inside. He beckoned here to sit next to him, and she did.

“Did Seonghwa-hyung tell you what we’re doing today?” He asked, turning to look at her. Y/n nodded, replying, “He told me that today was getting me used to what will happen now, and also for Hongjoong to play around with where I’ll fit in for your songs.” “For our songs,” Yunho interjected, before going back to scenting Seonghwa in the row ahead of where y/n and San sat.

And with Yunho’s words, the car fell silent for a little while, everyone focusing on their phones or the view outside, since they would likely be locked away in the company building for the rest of the day.

Seonghwa leaned his head on Yunho’s shoulder as the alpha’s arm wrapped itself around the pack omega’s shoulders, while San silently showed y/n his social media, while also explaining the likelihood that she would be getting access to her own accounts and the like over the next few days, once the company had created them. Yunho glanced back at the two behind them, before looking down at Seonghwa. “You’re worried for her, aren’t you?” “Of course I am. Just like I worry for the rest of you,” Seonghwa replied, “She’s one of us now, so one of mine to take care of and worry over.” “I know. But you have us to help, so please don’t try and take it on all by yourself, hyung.” Yunho reminded him, and before Seonghwa could reply, the van was pulling in front of KQ.

The other van had already arrived and the other members had already headed inside, so the four quickly climbed out of the van and made their way inside. The others thankfully hadn’t gone far, finding them standing around the elevator, seeming waiting for them to arrive. Hongjoong came up to Seonghwa first, scenting the omega like Yunho had in the car, and once he was satisfied, moved onto scenting Yunho, the other alpha melting under his pack alpha’s actions.

Hongjoong moved to stand in front of y/n, smiling at her. “Would you like me to scent you as well?” He asked, slightly unsure. Y/n thought about it for a moment. They did say last night that she could have it if she wanted, and she really did. His scent was so nice and the thought of having him scent her sounded so good right now. She found herself eagerly nodding in reply to his question, her face heating up when he chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Come here then,” he said, beckoning for her to come a bit closer and she did.

His hands reached out, scenting her wrists with his, smiling and relaxing as both of their scents bloomed, before he slowly leaned in, scenting her neck as well. Y/n could feel herself becoming putty in the alpha’s hands, reaching out and gripping his hoodie for some stability. Hongjoong pulled away once he noticed her grip on him, as the omega in front of him whined at the distance between them now, enjoying the closeness. By the time y/n had gotten her wits back, the other members were standing behind Hongjoong, smiling at her, though there were a few chuckles at her reaction. She looked away, a bit embarrassed by how quickly she melted.

“Awww, it’s okay,” San comforted her, “We all had the same reaction when hyung scented us for the first time.” Still flustered, she looked down, until Wooyoung came up next to her and grabbed her hand.

“It’s okay, baby omega. We find it cute how you melted into hyung.” He told her, tugging her into a hug.

“Well, now we should get down to business, yes?” Yunho said, stepping in and pulling the attention away from y/n.

“Yes, and we’ll be stealing y/n to go over choreography,” San said, with Yeosang and Wooyoung nodding in agreement, with the latter moving to stand behind her, his hands moving to rest on her hips. “Wait, we need to take y/n to go over her lines for the upcoming comeback.” Hongjoong cut in, to which the three whined in protest.

“That can be done later, hyung. We should get y/nnie up to speed with the choreography, since she likely can’t be added into the official tracks right now.” San said. In an almost seemingly planned out move, Mingi appeared in front of y/n, swooping the omega off of her feet and up over his shoulder. As the tall rapper moved into the elevator that had just opened up, she could see Hongjoong follow them, telling the others, “We’ll see you later!” before joining Mingi and her in the empty elevator car. Once the door was shut, Mingi set her gently back down on her feet.

“Sorry for that, firecracker, but they would have done the same thing if we had let them.” Mingi apologized, reaching out and ruffling her hair, to which y/n batted his hands away. This made the man chuckle, though before the omega could say anything in retort, the doors opened and Hongjoong reached for her hand, pulling the younger one out of the car and down a familiar hallway. She recognized where they were, and realized that she was back in the same hallway that they had been guided down to see the two idols that first day at the company.

However this time, she was led past the other studio, to a door a little farther down. “This is my studio, and where we’ll be working today,” Hongjoong explained. “My studio is two doors down,” Mingi cut in, as they all ushered themselves into the studio.

Hongjoong sat down in his chair, as Mingi took the one next to him, while y/n stood, unsure of where to go or sit. The leader turned around in his chair, smiling at her to try and ease her nerves. “Sit down on the couch, yeah?” And after she had done so, he spoke once again, “Now, let’s figure out where exactly you fit in our songs.”

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