#that fic will be special to me from now on

[vifilms]

FIND YOUR WINGS, VALENTINE

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. roommate!vi x femcoded!reader x exsituationship!caitlyn

caitlyn kiramman, a woman who yearned to have her cake and eat it too. violet, a simple girl who has fallen for someone emotionally unavailable and you — trying to disperse between heartbreak and a new love.

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: 17k wc. bartender!reader, melvika cameos, lesbian sex, semi-public sex, mutual finger-off, anal play, shy!vi, caitlyn is a cunt (in this), unfaithful mentality, valentine's day aura?

rayray rambles, chat! we made it. truthfully, this fic got away from in so many ways and i'm proud of myself for reigning it in. this originally was going to be a new years eve fic but it got so impossibly long that i wanted some more time with it. but i hope you enjoy it, this is my latest baby and a lot of love was put into it. happy valentines ♡

— special thank you to my amazing proofreader reader, @meganegatari, plu, i love you dearly.

‪‪and to my love, @sinstear, thank you for always listening to me ramble. happy valentines bubba, ily. even though you've already read 85 percent of this bc i was so excited about it

You could still feel her.

Like it was just last night with her finger buried deep inside, pinning you against your front door with her slender fingers, the soft pad of her fingers stuffed inside your pants, making you see stars. A last ditch effort to keep you around. 

Caitlyn likes to chase but she becomes a bambi in headlights once she’s caught her prey. There was desperation for the last cry, a final effort to keep you around. You’d never seen such a progressive emotion from her. 

Before tonight, every moment; every word said seems transactional. 

The hauntingly blue windows of her soul look anywhere but you. You wonder if it's a tactic. Refusing to make eye contact when she’s most vulnerable. As if one glance at you would cost her the rest of her life, an outcome she can’t afford. 

These days, she’s afraid of her own shadow. Unable to look anyone in the eyes, her spirit crushed like she’s anywhere but here. When you try to pull her back to shore, she recedes even further. 

Nothing is good enough. 

Caitlyn makes it abundantly clear that you aren’t. Insults bite into your skin like a bullet, the blow never to your heart, the place you desperately want it to be. 

But for now, you lick your wounds and you let her have what she wants. Even if she’s fading from your grip, you can still hold her, you can still pretend she loves you the same way, and you can cry after she leaves. You wonder if she sees you for who you really are or if Caitlyn only sees what benefits her. 

It’s a cycle that keeps you here, entangled with a woman who doesn’t have the decency to let you go. If Caitlyn is half the woman you believe her to be, she would have mercifully kicked you out of her apartment. 

Then, there’s Vi.

Nothing with her is serious, not even physical, she just whines and dines you, she holds you like she loves you. Above everything else; Vi makes you forget. Even if it’s with a soft smile, a harmless joke that’s so stupid it makes you giggle — it’s a moment of peace. One you crave more than desolation. 

There’s a softness to her that Caitlyn doesn’t allow. You’re sure that’s why the two didn’t work out. Caitlyn is rough. Kind when she needs something, vengeful when you get in her way but when she seeks retribution for her sins, it’s entirely too late. 

Vi is everything Caitlyn isn’t, what she’s incapable of being — a simmering token of hope you keep close to your chest. 

The more you think about it, the more your stomach twists in knots over your neediness. Entertaining Violet so she can quench your emotional thirst. And keeping Caitlyn around in good faith, a blind faith you place in her, hoping that you’re not wrong. 

You can’t be wrong. 

Somehow she’ll change, right? 

“Why do you have to leave so soon?” Her accent bites into you like an icy river, devoid of emotion as she reveals what she really wants. A silky blue robe untied as her full breasts sit perfectly on her chest. 

Almost as if it’s muscle memory, your thumbs circle over her pink nipples, it buds under your touch and Caitlyn does what she does best. 

She grasps onto the reins of control, refusing to let go. 

With a firm hand, she applies pressure on the back of your neck, beckoning your mouth to find home on her perfect tits and they do. At the moment, you’re her favorite toy and she lets you play.

Plump lips latching on her nipple while your free hand squeezes the other, your tongue flicking over the sensitive nipple as your teeth graze over the sensitive skin, a gasp falling from Caitlyn’s lips. 

“Pretty girl just needs her mouth put to work. Give the other some attention, she’s feeling quite lonely.” 

Doing as you're told, your desperate drool collects on her chest as you bite the swell of her chest, before sucking on her other nipple as if she’s lactating. Then the idea of Caitlyn’s belly swollen makes you whimper, moaning into her skin as she runs a finger up her own slit, your eyes looking up at her as you suck, flick, and bite. 

As if your life depends on it. Maybe it did. 

“Come back to bed, babygirl. I need my perfect little slut. I can fuck you in the shower just the way you like.” 

The ammunition of her poisonous words might as well have penetrate your bloodstream. Displaced trust turns you into another toy for her to use. Trapped perpetually in a cycle you had a hand in enabling. Words full of steam leave a third-degree burn on your skin, not a single drop of blood to be found. 

But even if you want to pull back, you can’t. 

There’s no further arguments as you slip into the lion’s den. With soul-crushing desire, your bare chest presses against the fogged glass, Caitlyn using her favorite dildo as she fucks you into the wall of glass, a dignity you posses withers with each thrust. Perfectly manicured slim fingers pull at your hair as an arch to your back is forced. 

With each thrust she becomes more aggressive, her pace is punishing and it’s meant for you to fall in her hands. But you’re resisting, holding off the orgasm and the high that comes with it. The higher you fall, the harder you crash. You know Kirakiller won’t be there to catch you. 

You’ll burden the fall on your own. 

“Cait, please—” 

The slap of your stretched lips being thoroughly obliterated by her brutal cock can be heard throughout her apartment. She wants to make you come, that’s clear, but she also wants to break you. There’s nothing more a Kiramman loves, hearing you beg for mercy. To have the pathetic and whiny girl who blindly loves her, shattering at her grip. 

“That’s not my name. You fucking know it’s not. Good little sluts say it, don’t they?” 

Before you can even process it, she slaps your ass, three times, sending the orgasm raging through you. All Caitlyn does is fuck your pretty face into the glass as you take every inch of her. Then her pace halts as your heavy breath is heard over the shower. She turns the water off and you’re stuck there, unable to move.

Afraid. 

 Your heart would collapse right with you. 

Caitlyn moves swiftly, like a knight coming in the dead of knight to steal the princess. On all fours, she rummages through the cabinet before locating the precious wand. With a profound smirk, she grips the handle as if it’s an extension of her limb. 

“Looks like you’re getting punished today, babygirl. How do you wanna take it?”  

The lines blur together over the next few hours until you’re stumbling out of the apartment. Caitlyn not directly kicking you out of her home but your stay is only welcome for as long as the fucking window is open. It’s nearly three hours past midnight, tears in your eyes as you tread home with a gaping hole punctured with her sharpest end of her carefully placed blade. 

You wonder if she’s always been like this. Hot and hungry for power, ready to hurt anyone in order to get it. The angry flesh begs to be fed, and she gives in each time. Even when it means she sees the love depleted from your eyes, or when you refuse to make eye contact, or like tonight when she watches you hold in tears to escape out of her apartment. 

Some nights, you did want to be handled with a gentle hand but it’s not something Caitlyn gives. 

Anything more than a generous hand and greedy lips begging to lap at your cunt and Caitlyn comes up short. Living up to her name to the fullest. 

Kirakiller, they called her. 

There’s a dozen reasons for her name. How she slaughters everyone on the pitch,  academically she’ll make you feel inferior to her own privileged, private education prior to university. How she kills your spirit if you aren’t someone she sees as an exceptional academic student for Piltover University. 

All of it seems to be a game for her. With Cassandra Kiramman as the dean, the board members sit heavily in her overflowing pocket, she runs things as she sees fit. Her daughter being taken care of and on top of the world is her number one priority. There’s been a dozen to come after the Kiramman’s and none have been successful. Murmurs of corruption grace the hallowed halls but not a soul dares to challenge the wealth and power of the prestigious bloodline of the Kirammans.  

Caitlyn “Kirakiller” Kiramman associating with someone who was merely on scholarship wasn't in Cassandra’s plans. Even if you didn’t even know it yet, you were too low on the totem pole to be associated with the future of a daunting legacy. An entire life laid out for Cait before she even took her first breath. 

It was dumb to buzz her up to the apartment. Even more idiotic to respond to her texts in the first place but besides all her failed attempts, she still tries to worm her way through your heart to take what she believes is owed. Just like last week, you let her. 

She leaves when you pretend to fall asleep after, the two of you telling yourselves it’ll be the last time, but it won’t be. 

It’s a vicious cycle, one has your insides spinning, your stomach churning and your heart aching. But you’re too weak to end. It’s a tale as old as time. You want something more and Caitlyn can’t be bothered to be committed to the wrong type of girl. 

It’s all about appearances and you’re not good enough. 

Cassandra, the respectable dean and the mother who is the puppeteer of her daughter’s life, behind the scenes pulling the strings in order to maintain image, status. She holds it closer than her own blood; a need for her bloodline to prosper and Dean Kiramman will trample anyone’s heart to complete the task. 

Whether she wants to fight against her mother’s future or not? You didn’t know. 

Truly, you never know what she wants, besides getting herself off or getting you off, Caitlyn was stuck between a world she’s born for and one that’s decided for her. A child acting out but waiting until college to do so. 

Kirakiller. 

That’s what they called her. Ruthless in all of her conquests, never calling back, never fucking the same girl again, it wasn’t something Kirakiller did. She used, abused, and moved onto the next one. 

But for some reason, she’s incredibly stuck on you. 

The new year puts you at a distance when Cait refuses to bring you home for the holidays. Of course, the fight rages as soon as she’s done fucking you. 

“What do you think this is?” 

“You tell me.” 

There’s a look in your eyes, gleaming and sorrowful, the rejection crystal clear. That’s all any of this has been. A severe procrastination tactic to put off what you want, her. 

What makes it worse is Caitlyn knows it but she’s still here, trying, and who the hell knows why. 

Hope. A poor woman’s faith guts you, ripping your insides of love and prosperity. In your line of vision, you just see claws tearing at your skin, all flesh raw and bleeding as she begs for more. 

A wish that you hope for every time you see her. This time she’ll choose differently, she’ll be kind this time. I’ll be enough to love. This will be the moment. 

But when she doesn’t, the accent you love so much burns you at the stake, you’re screaming on deaf ears. Begging for her to hear just one, but she snuffs you out. Like the moonlight you bring, she pretends you don’t call to her like the moon pulls the tide. 

Instead, you’re met with Caitlyn’s greed. 

“Why do I think this is? I expect some basic level of human compassion but you’ve forgotten that too. I’ve always given you the benefit of the doubt. Even when everyone tells me you’re fucking other girls besides me, even when I see with my own eyes how you act when you think I’m not around. You clearly don’t respect me. Every time I’ve tried to have this conversation, you avoid me. Do you think I deserve that?” 

“There is nothing to even discuss. This is nothing.” Her accent is sharp, cutting right through your heart. A woman you love too deeply reaffirming how little she thinks of you. 

Dismissal. 

Absence. 

You are nothing, might as well have fallen from her lips. 

Her heart is ice cold,  her piercing eyes bite like the bitter wind of winter. A slim view of fire rattling within her dark blue eyes, pupils dilate so much they practically turn black. 

You feel your stomach tense, the pit in your stomach has once returned, denying you of what feels so real to you. 

It’s just a game for her. 

Always a game Caitlyn has to win. 

“Fine. Then leave. But don’t come back next time, don’t text me when you’re lonely or horny, don’t call me when everyone else won’t hear you out. Forgot about me and let’s be done with it, yeah? Go back to those girls you love to fuck so much. The ones that are bright, shiny, untouched by your venomous heart.” 

“I will. They sure will be a hell of a lot better lay than you, maybe they’ll let me fuck their ass.” 

You scoff but your expression is stone cold as you watch her struggle to pull her clothes on. There’s no sudden movements made. Certainly no apologies. 

Once Caitlyn fully dresses, she waits there as if you’ll change your mind. A wish she’s so desperately hanging onto as your eyes remain cold. A shiver is sent up her spine — you’d never been more ruthless — and for the first time her chest feels tight at the loss of you. 

“It’s what you want. A pretty rich thing your mother will accept and the control in the bedroom you need since the real Kiramman controls every aspect of your life, even your love life. Good luck, you’ll need it.” 

“You’ll come begging back, you always do.” 

You want to choke Caitlyn with the smirk she’s currently wearing. 

“We’ll see about that, Kirakiller. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.” 

In an instant her face drops, her acute lips turning into a frown, cursing under her breath before she finally slams the door. It’s only then do you allow yourself to scream into your pillow, agony coursing through you, desperation, and most of all — a rage that wouldn’t be quenched. 

—

The fairy lights, softly winking at you each time the sequence goes off. Violet craved to put them up around Christmas but never bothered to take them down. Perfectly, they fit with your shared home. The small apartment stuck between the suburbs and the city, close enough to campus where it was only a short drive, the two of you carpooling or Vi moving her schedule around to drop you off. 

It happened to work out for the two of you. You didn’t think you’d get to be so lucky. Finding a decent roommate is a tall order, but now the two of you are inseparable and you couldn’t imagine your life any different. 

If not for her, you didn’t think you'd survive spending the holidays alone. 

Caitlyn made sure to isolate you but Violet holds you close.  

The memory of new years solidifies the budding infatuation growing within you; as much as it excites you, it sends a freezing shiver down your spine. Like a bitter winter to an evergreen bush, who knows if it’ll last the season without one moment to be basked in the sun. 

— 

New Years Eve, 2024. 

Sevika nursing an old fashioned. Trying to avoid the smell of cheap corona and budweiser intruding her relaxed nostrils as Mel sips on a glass of wine. Her smaller frame leans into Sevika’s arm looped through hers as their hips nearly become conjoined. They watch as Violet watches you. You’re standing there alone, fending off a few women who try to make a move on you. 

Whispers of your former fling, Caitlyn Kiramman make their way across campus, the colossal cunt raging her anger during practice. Just as you’ve been reminded by her teammates who blame you for her toddler tantrum. Violet’s heart sinks to her chest as she watches Caitlyn make a straight shot for you. 

The second she entered the room, Violet could feel the dread filling her body. Half because seeing her reminds her of all the horrors, everything she let Caitlyn do to her. Now, Caitlyn’s moved on to her next victim and she wonders if you’ll ever truly escape from her. 

“Do you think we should–” Vi speaks softly, a murmur she didn’t intend for anyone else to hear. “...interrupt?” 

“Calm down, casanova.” Sev interjects letting the whiskey soothe her throat. 

“Easy for you to say, coupled up love birds.” Vi rolls her eyes as she watches the scene unfold before her. 

The light in her eyes cracks, like a sparkler losing its flame. Each time Caitlyn attempts to worm back in your life, you’ve always let her. Even when she’s the last person who deserves even a moment of your time. It takes anything in her not to wince when you let Caitlyn touch your arm but after a moment you push her off. 

Well, that’s new. 

“You should go over there.” Mel chimes in, “Caitlyn would surely run for the hills then. She’s all bark but no bite.” 

“Go be her knight in shining armor.” Sev says it like it’s a bad thing, her sarcasm biting into the air. 

All Vi continues to scratch away at the label unraveling from the condensation, just as her heart rips each time Caitlyn gets closer to you. It’s a strange feeling. Her ex-girlfriend and the person she loves. Nearly spiteful her heart becomes, almost wanting to fling herself off a bridge. It’s more than Vi wishes to deal with and she tells herself she won’t. 

You’re not worth the trouble, she’s just making her feelings bigger than they actually are, right? 

Whatever Caitlyn says pisses you off enough to throw your drink in her face, coating her from hot to toe in the vodka cranberry Vi had made for you earlier in the night. 

“You’ll eat those actions, babygirl. Next time, it’ll be you who is soaked and we both know it.” 

Caitlyn screams for all to hear as she checks you with her shoulder before heading upstairs. 

It’s five minutes before midnight and Violet watches as you crumble, running outside, needing to catch some air. You need something to make you feel less suffocated. Even with a drink thrown in her face, Caitlyn still finds a way to get an upper hand. 

“Vi, would you be a dear and check on her? Sev and I will be there in a sec.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Violet sees you in the corner of her eye, trying not to break down, but she notices the tears threatening to spill. 

“Don’t look so glum princess or you’re going to make me cry and nobody wants to see that.”  The lightness of her tone makes you chuckle. Vi’s trying to make you laugh and she succeeds. 

Everyone pours outside as the clock strikes closer to midnight, Mel and Sevika come out but they keep their distance. Vi kneels at your feet, gently wiping the tears away you finally let fall. The small hiccups leaving your chest as you feel inadequate, wondering if anyone would miss you if you just melted away — not a single trace of you to be found. 

“She makes me feel so small, even when I leave, she wants more of me. I have nothing left to give.” You sob, hands shaking as you make fists trying to stabilize yourself. “No one understands how…how fucking awful and addicting she is.” 

“I do.” 

“Of course you, Violet. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. She’s just…” 

“Frustrating?” You nod, trying to laugh off the heartbreak but the familiar glee doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“And now I’m alone, on new years.” You say, cursing at the premature fireworks illuminating the sky. “While she goes to shag whoever wants to clean the vodka cranberry with their tongue.” 

I want to taste the cranberry on yours. 

Violet doesn’t speak those words. It’s just a dream — one that only drips in her mind until her thoughts pull at her like a pomegranate as it sheds from the skin. 

“She’s an idiot for letting you go. Anyone here knows that.” 

“Really? Funny ‘cause I’m here single. Caitlyn just wants me to crawl back to her with me on all fours just so she can say, i told you so, in that insufferable English accent. God, I wanna rip it from her throat.” 

“Then don’t give her the satisfaction.” 

“Easier said than done.” You say as everyone counts down from ten, “At least we still have each other.” 

Vi smiles, her powder-blue eyes sweet on you. There’s nothing more she wants than to kiss you. But Vi will screw the both of you if she moves too quickly. 

3…2…1! 

The buzz of the party reaches an all-time high and you’ve never felt so close to hell. Watching as everyone kisses the person they love, the gleeful-holiday making them smile as they wrap in the warmth of their partner. Vi sees how sad you are, how close you are to breaking, so she does something stupid. An action that will only get her heart in all kinds of trouble. 

Nearly almost planting her lips on yours, but saves herself with a peck to the apple of your cheeks. 

She blushes and you smile. 

She considers it to be a win when she gets a positive reaction from you. That’s all she really wants, to hear you laugh and you do. 

Again. 

The both of you speak nothing of it, the heartache too heavy and the love in Violet’s eyes too bright. You rest your head against her shoulder as the both of you watch the fireworks shining the midnight sky — it feels awfully like a fresh start. 

God knows you could use one. 

— 

The last thing you want is to miss her but you do. 

Longing instilled the moment she infected your blood; making each beat of your heart consistently flow for her. You couldn’t admit it, not her or yourself. It’s what she counts on. For you to slip, to venture back into the lion’s just so she can gut you from root to stem. 

With your finger hovering over her number for the past few weeks, each time, nearly a moment from giving back into her needs. Not once had she called, texted, or even looked at your way. Not even when she sat across from you in the library last Monday. Before her tongue found home in the girl who threw herself in Caitlyn’s lap. Promptly deciding that was enough studying for the day. 

The nights are the worst, you stay secluded in your room, tired of thinking about her and everything that’s transpired. How much you miss her, how much you love her — wondering if you ever should have — and how much you clung to this version of her that maybe just never existed. 

It isn’t until Vi tries to get you out of the house that you realize how heartbroken you actually feel. How unbearable it would be to do anything but the bare minimum that’s expected for you to survive. 

“C’mon, it won’t be bad.” Vi throws herself in bed with you, “You’re with me you’ll have a fantastic time.” 

Vi cheekily smiles, “Plus, I can’t go without you. Those are the rules.” 

“Oh really?” She nods, the sincerity reaching her eyes so blindingly, it makes the swell in your chest ache. 

“Basically the law, so if you don’t want me to handcuff you, you’ll listen.” 

Raising an eyebrow at the question, you watch her as your roommate goes into the closet and comes out with three dresses back in hand. 

“You always look, um u-uh, really pretty in these.” 

Violet’s always been like this. Unsure, a little bit flirty, and with a heart so gentle you would be too afraid to hold it in the palm of your hand. All it took was one introduction from Sevika and the two of you instantly clicked. 

You cooked at the housewarming party for Mel and Sevika, in the middle of having a breakdown when you didn’t have crucial ingredients you thought you did have. It’s when Violet came to your rescue. Already in the kitchen watching you nearly have a panic attack over not being better prepared, she instantly grabbed the keys to her truck, off to assist. 

With your former roommate flaking out after the second semester in your apartment off campus, and Violet coming off a messy breakup, the two of you helped each other out. 

“Which one is your favorite?” It’s an innocent question. 

It really is. 

Then you remember the last time you wore it, Violet unable to keep her eyes off you when she thought you weren’t looking or how she would meet your eyes when you caught her staring. Dramatically clearing her throat as she scratches the nape of her neck, bashfully blushing. 

“The black one. You always look beautiful, any of them really. That one is just my favorite.” 

Feeling the fabric of the silk dress, the neckline is plunging and the back is open until it reaches your lower back and you don't dare bend down to pick up anything in this little number. 

“Someone’s being sweet tonight.” You smile softly, kissing her cheek before you disappear into the bathroom. It’s long before you come out, but when you’re ready Vi nearly has to do a double take. 

Visibly, she gulps. 

Fuck, she forgot how amazing you look in that dress. 

“Where’s it at this time?” 

“You remember Natalie?” 

“Oh?” 

“It’s not—” 

“I didn’t say it was.” But you’re smirking and Vi has no other option but to groan into her hands. 

“You were thinking about it.” Harmlessly, you shrug. 

“Regardless, it’s some new girl who’s gonna be on the team this season. It’s kind of a get together before the season starts.” 

“You’re taking me to the kick-off banquet?” Vi winces as your voice shrieks, slightly piercing her eardrum in the process. 

“Uh,” Vi runs a hand through her vibrant, messy head of hair. “Uh, yeah. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“So, why not Natalie?” 

“Does it matter?” Vi counters. She becomes uncomfortable about how she would have to answer the question. There wasn’t a way for her to answer without fully exposing herself so she pulls at her cuticles until she’s slightly bleeding before she stuffs them inside her pockets. 

She doesn't want to have the conversation, and honestly, neither do you. 

“The she-devil won’t be there. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? One night for yourself, there’s a little dancing, we can have a couple of drinks—” 

“Y-You’ll dance with me…in front of everyone?” You sound more unsure of yourself than you ever have. The words are foreign on your tongue as if you’re speaking another language. 

“Is that a statement or a question?” Vi chuckles before she stands up from your bed, “Give me ten minutes and we’ll head out. We can stop and get some burgers. The food they cater is ass anyways. All that money from the snobby rich parents and Piltover University can’t even splurge on anything decent.” 

It doesn’t take long before she’s emerging into the living room, her white button up has the top three buttons undone, the tattoos creeping on the outside of her neck visible as does her name she has on her cheek. The one you chastise her for consistently. 

“You ready?” Violet stuffs her essentials in her deep pockets before taking you in. 

“Yeah, I think so, I was just waiting for you.” 

She seriously has to assume your exes are severely ill for ever letting you out of their sight. Violet despises how rapid the beat of her heart is, how shaky her hands become when she offers a hand to help you off the couch. Only two nights ago, it was the two of you cuddled up, Vi shrieking in fear from your favorite horror film. 

The terror in her powder-blue eyes made you laugh. Violet sees it as a big enough consolation for her downright distress. 

You’re too gorgeous for your own good. 

She may be pushing her luck tonight. Even pulling you out of bed makes her feel slightly accomplished. Between work and class, your mattress has been your chosen place to nurse your heartache. A few of your friends had been in and out, trying to get you to grab a fresh breath of air, or find the bottom of a bottle of tequila but all had failed. 

“You look….” You bite your lip, watching as your eyes drag over her frame, overwhelmed by just how well she cleans up. 

“That bad, huh?” Violet smirks as she makes her way over to you, and with your heels, she can’t help but admire your height. She supposes she does have a type. Who can blame her? 

“Something like that.” Your face is burning, the world doesn’t seem so bleak when she locks the door with one hand, her left warm-calloused hand holding yours in a firm grip. 

“How do I look?” You do a twirl, there’s a smile you try to contain when her eyes drag over you, taking all the time in the world as open the door to her truck, guiding you inside. 

“You look beautiful but that’s no surprise, princess.” 

The drive is quiet. Violet itches to place the palm of her hand on your thigh but she resists. With a quiet mind, she listens as you ramble about a new album you listened to earlier and she hands you her phone so you can play it. Immediately, you’re bewildered at the trust. 

Caitlyn wouldn’t even let you use her phone when yours died. Ordering the uber herself as she left you on the curb as she took her sports car and faded into the intersecting street. 

It’s only a twenty minute drive to the diner and the red neon sign greets you, the outside wall painted in a pastel-yellow, it’s gaudy and nearly unpleasant to the eye but there’s the charm about it. Zaun outlasted the gentrification of the corporate pollution, still one of the only places to remain standing and family owned. 

You’re led to a booth where you both take a seat, glancing over the menu as you decide what you want, trying to make a decision in your mind is something that drowns you like a misty fog at the crack of dawn. 

Finally you settle on a burger and so Violet. The conversation is easy with her. Everything seems to flow with a simpleness you find yourself reaching for. Like the last copy of your favorite book at the library, you crave to wrap your fingers around the crispy edges, sinking your smell into the spine of a new novel. Where the beginning feels like a first kiss — blissful notions of someone new — when the thought of love doesn’t seem so jarring. 

Before you’re terrified of getting your heart shattered into a million pieces. Before love morphs into something violent, you turn to Violet and you wonder if she’s ever been scared to love. Does it come easy for her? Would she let herself go for the right person? You feel too broken to ever let yourself fall that freely again. 

But she has blue eyes, a scar on her upper lip making her more charming, and tattoos adorning her back that only attribute to the surface level of her allure.  

Shortly after you sink into your thoughts, ones you don’t believe you should even have, you're ravaging your burger when Violet notices the attention you're getting. It’s obvious. To everyone. But you just talk to her about anything but the elephant in the room, you’re so chatty tonight she might even think you’re nervous. 

But it’s Vi. There’s nothing to ever be nervous about. 

Nothing at all. 

“God, this was such a good call. Who knew I needed to bury my sorrows in a pound of grease.” 

“Carbs. They are a beautiful thing.” Vi winks, you chunk a fry at her but she catches it in her mouth. 

You finish your food in silence, Vi smiling as she takes another sip from the cane-sugar coca cola. The sweetness of the syrup  coats the back of her throat as she watches you watch her. She wants to say something but the timing is wrong. She wonders if you see a future or a rebound, maybe even just a friend, only time can tell and Vi fears she would wait a lifetime waiting for you to figure it out. 

It’s how she loves. Free, without restrictions, even if she still mourns the love she once had burned to flames — you make her forget it all. Renewed in holy water, she basks in a touch that hasn’t scorned her, freely washing her of past sins.  

“What happened to Natalie? I thought things were good.” 

“For a time, yeah.” Violet says something without saying much. 

“Vi, are you being coy?” 

The blush coats her cheeks as she tries to shy away from the conversation. She feels the heat from your attention, the way her heart beats a million times per second as you have her cornered. Different in a way she would typically imagine when you came to mind. Even if she does try to stop herself, Vi can’t help but wonder about you and if you would feel the same way she does. 

If you do and just aren’t allowing yourself to let go of the wall you have up in the horrendous shape of Caitlyn Kiramman.  

The way you pry, your bold eyes slightly squinting at her as if you’re already figuring out the self-righteousness of the sinner. Secrets she hides under lock and key but even on a good day, the confession bubbles on her tongue as she catches herself choking on her own spit. You’re always so careful of the questions you leave hanging in the air. 

In a moment of frustration, Violet thinks of how Caitlyn’s manipulative patterns may have sinked into your brain. She knows that much — the blue-haired witch has done the same to her. Making you question everyone’s motives, wondering if anyone could ever be truthful. 

But others can. 

Caitlyn can’t. 

Vi distracts herself, avoids the question even if it is just a second to recollect her thoughts, a minute to buy time and divert from this conversation. It’s a truth she doesn't want unraveled. 

“What’s the saying? Don’t kiss and tell.” She grumbles as she stuffs her face with another bite of the beefy patty. “But we just didn’t work out s’all. Plus, I’m not looking for anything serious I guess. She was.” 

Another lie but Vi keeps her lips tight. She doesn’t need you to know why her latest attempt at a relationship blew up in her face, catastrophically. 

“Maybe you and Kirakiller should date again.” You tease. 

“Take that back. She’s the devil’s spawn and I’m still sorry you learned the difficult way. Just like me.” 

“Well, she definitely lives up to the name.” 

“I wish she would have changed her ways. You didn’t deserve to get hurt at all and especially by her.” Violet reaches across the table, soothing the back of your hand, rubbing circles into your skin. The action is sweet, lighting your skin ablaze with goosebumps as you watch her show affection, especially where other people can see. 

At the moment, you want to be claimed by her. Marked as Violet’s girl and you would be proud to be. You close the thought from your mind as soon as it opens. This isn’t a date. Just because Violet flirts doesn’t mean she’s interested. The two of you are roommates. 

Pull yourself together. 

Jesus Christ. 

She knows how much everyone can’t stop looking at you. The diner, outside the gas station even when Vi told you to stay in the car, and then the banquet. But you latched onto her, practically glued to her side as new sponsors came to speak with the new head captain. Vi’s nursing a beer when the music hits and she grins. 

“Are you ready for this?” 

What is she talking about? 

Vi latches her hand with yours as she pulls you to the open floor, only a few couples begin to lightly sway to the classical being played. It’s different from what she was used to but she was nothing if not resourceful. 

“I don’t bluff, princess, and I certainly don’t lie.” Vi tugs you close as you make no arguments, she leads as you find shining faith in her eyes. 

It’s a new feeling, unfamiliar as it courses through your body. Vi isn't ashamed of you, as a friend, as a roommate; she’s full of warmth when she glances at you. Sending a sense of belonging through your skin, a home you want to throw yourself in before the foundation has even been laid. 

Violet’s too good at this. You secretly love it but you pretend like you hate it. As if getting attention from someone as kind and hot as her is a bad thing. It’s nearly too much, almost making you sick with how much you’re enjoying being held by someone who actually wants to hold you. 

She’s not playing chess and using you as a pawn. 

It’s a recurring thought you have to remind yourself of, she’s not Caitlyn. 

Violet doesn’t make promises she doesn’t keep, she doesn’t say careless compliments to only have sex with you. With a firm palm on your back, calluses kissing your spine, she’s looking at you — so much so it feels as if she’s looking right through you. 

 “You don’t have to—” She twirls you around before you can protest, guiding you back into her gentle care. 

Vi shrugs, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me princess but I’d never go back on my word.” 

The other couples start to move on the dance floor as each song blends into the next. 

“That’s refreshing.” 

Violet hand placed on your exposed back feels so warm it nearly burns her skin. Leaning in, leaning her head against yours. You smell of vanilla and something else entirely too sweet, maybe jasmine or fresh lilies. The delicate breath kissing your neck feels tempting. You would never consider yourself to be a siren, but with each promise laced up in your tongue, you wish to serenade her into a future with you. 

“So are you, sweetheart.” Violet pulls away just enough to look at you, her temple presses against yours. 

You can hear the shake in her breath, her grip around her back tightening like she’s trying to restrain herself. But she doesn’t restrain, she leans in, the tip of her pierced nose kissing yours. If either of you moved an inch forward, your lips could taste hers. 

Is her chapstick cherry, strawberry, or maybe even blueberry? They look irresistible as the glisten, you need to crave the ache deriving from your bones. Violet has itched herself into every part of your life and she’s the only one to make you feel a sliver of joy again. 

“We should…” The dazed woman doesn’t even know what she’s pleading for. This is all she’s been wanting but somehow her heart is pulling away, terrified to be crushed under the unforgiving weight of rejection. 

“Yeah.” You say. Somehow understanding what she wishes for, silently you’re able to see her exposed skin, raw to the notion of a love dying to bloom in the beginning of spring. 

Violet kisses your cheek again and somehow you feel the warmth of the fresh season. In the February rain, there is still sunshine spilling over the clouds — washing you in hope again. 

— 

The rest of your life fell back in place as if she never existed, except the ache in your heart that wouldn’t stop. You did your best to ignore it. Word got around Caitlyn went back to fiercely fucking. Apparently instead of sleeping just once a week while she was with you, she went back to her ever-growing appetite, nearly every night. It isn’t too difficult for her; not when there’s a line of women waiting to be at her beck and call. 

You threw yourself into your studies, picking more shifts at the bar and hoping she doesn’t pull any of her usual stunts, showing up drunk and begging to fuck. 

One more time, baby. This could be good for the both of us. 

Caitlyn uprooted the past semester of uni and she didn’t even have the decency to apologize. All your friends with a knowing look of — I told you so — without actually dispersing the words from their tongue. It feels too much like a blurry dream but Sevika is good at making you smile. Even if you wanna throw yourself against a wall until the memory of Kirakiller fades for good. 

The night had been busier than expected but nothing you and Sevika couldn’t handle. Even if there’s an ache in your knees, the muscles in your shoulders strained, it feels nice to just work. Everything flees your mind, all the insecurities bubbling inside you escaping to get out. The emotions you’re attempting to keep at bay and failing. 

“You good, kid?” 

“Yeah, life’s just a shit fire. Nothing new.” 

Continuing to wipe the bar down for new customers, you clean off some glasses in front of you, as you dry your hands on a clean towel before tending to the other side of the bar. 

The rest of the night comes to you in a blur. You’re flirty enough with the men to ensure a nice tip but when one tries to get too handsy, you tell them to fuck off or Sevika will throw them out. They eye up her frame as she makes her way over, height hitting at over six feet, her muscles visible through the fitted black tank she chose tonight. If you didn’t know any better, she would terrify you. 

“Got a problem here?” 

“I’m not sure, what about you boys? Do you think there’s an issue?” 

With a quick shake to their heads, they take a nervous sip of their beer and the rest of the night goes along swimmingly. It’s last call when you spot the familiar pink-haired roommate, nursing her second bottle of beer it seems. 

“How long has she been here?” 

“Came during the rush for you, but didn’t wanna bother you. She’s been waiting for a few hours.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your tone goes high and squirrelly, murderous eyes finding her glimmering, silver eyes. 

“Well, it's only Vi, right?” Sevika smirks. 

That itself was a loaded question. If you’d been asked six months ago, it would have been a flat friend but now Vi had somehow turned into a friend. The almost-kiss you’ve been having dreams about. How she would kiss you — would it be tender — or would she be depraved about it in a way that would have you bruising your knees at the speed of lighting. 

“Stop that. Vi is as harmless as a puppy.” 

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” 

“Wasn’t Kirakiller here last month waiting for you and you didn’t bat an eye? Plus, the only thing she seems to be jealous of is Vi. The diva had a meltdown when she saw Vi picking you up after the end of your shift last week, or that’s just what I heard.” 

“Mel needs to stop telling you so much.” 

“Pillow talk. It’s a beautiful thing. Isn’t it?” 

Rolling your eyes, you throw your apron at her, collecting your tips for the night. Vi still looks innocent as ever, Gert making friendly conversation with her as you just watch her. Her thick, wool beanie matches her hair and you can’t help but think of how cute she looks. Her fingerless gloves you always chastise her about, doing very little to keep her warm. 

You knew she had a date tonight. Hell, it makes you nervous why she’s even here. Racking your brain with some excuse to get you out of this. What’s so important she couldn’t wait until you got home? She waits up for you every night. Doesn’t let herself fall asleep until she hears the familiar jingle of your keys outside the door. Pretending to read the book in her hands like she’s casually perched on the couch at three in the morning for any other reason. 

“Well, she’s one of the good ones and I’m not.” 

You’re frustrated as you split the tips, handing Sevika her half. Things with Vi had been more than complicated. You weren’t sure if you were over Caitlyn but you also knew things with Vi were getting closer to an edge you couldn’t come back from.

The flashbacks of the banquet you attended as her plus one just a few weeks ago haunt you. Her lips so close to yours, the hitch in her breath and whimper you let out that stopped it all. 

You would be an idiot to ruin the best friend you’ve ever had. A deep secret buried in your mind tells you how much of a bigger idiot you would be if you let her slip right through your fingers. 

“Doesn’t matter if you are or not. She sees something in you. Count yourself lucky. Oh, and before you head off Mel wants to invite you over for Valentine’s. Some big party she’s throwing. You know how she is. Be there or she’ll come and find you if you resist.” 

The wink Sevika sends you is insufferable. Similar to her attitude this entire night. 

“Yeah yeah, tell Mel I’ll be there.” 

“Now that’s the loving spirit, lovergirl.” 

You make your way over and Gert’s hand is touching Vi’s forearm, a look in your eyes that sends an annoying pit to your stomach. Gert’s eyes flutter and her smirk is evident but Vi only gulps when you make your way over. 

Gert may just take your attitude for tiredness but Vi knows better. Your two seconds from blowing up the way your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding as you fight to act like a complete and utter cunt. Vi’s a very pretty girl. Women flirt with her all the time. It’s not anything you didn’t know but to see it up and close was new for you. 

As was the jealousy practically sprouting out of you. 

“Well call me, yeah?” Gert’s eyes sparkle, dodging you entirely as she walks away and into the back. 

Violet gulps as it’s just the two of you. 

“Why are you here?” You snip, arms crossed over your chest, unknowingly making your cleavage even more apparent. “Sev says you’ve been here for hours.” 

“I came to see you but you looked busy.” 

“Mhm, yeah. Busy. You look awfully busy.” 

“Don’t do that.” 

But you ignore her. 

You rolled your eyes, the irritation raging within you. Fucking Gert. You drunkenly told her about your confusing feelings for Vi and she took that as Vi's single. It’s slim pickings out there but fuck, did Vi have to entertain it right in front you? 

But you didn’t like to think about how she did. You weren’t dating, you weren’t fucking, you essentially were just roommates who cuddled sometimes, or went on these almost dates with and almost kissed. 

Vi hasn't been dating since Natalie but she’s free to do as she pleases. It’s a colossal hit to your pride but you can’t be mad. You are, but you can’t be. 

You really cannot be doing this. 

Vi is just a friend. Only a friend. That’s it.  

“I’m going but Gert will be off soon. Goodnight, Vi.” 

It’s short and not so sweet. Swiftly turning around as you are practically running out the door. The chill of February hits you first and then you hear Vi and her voice calling after you but you just keep walking. Hoping she’ll give up and go back. You’re a lost cause, anyone with eyes can see it. 

“Would you stop running away?” You turn around and Vi is so close that she runs into you, her arms wrapping around your waist to stop you from falling. “Jesus, are you insane? It’s fucking freezing out here. I don’t care if you’re mad right now, I’m driving us home.” 

“Violet, let me—” 

“No. You’re not getting sick. It’s past midnight. It’s not safe. We are not arguing about this.” You pout as she holds your hand and practically drags you back to her black truck. Opening the door for you as you get in, shutting the door once you’re situated before she gets in on the other side. 

Igniting the engine, it revs on and while the car warms up Vi sighs, rather loudly. She’s always good about waiting until she calms down to speak. Letting the anger roll off her, the frustration you’re sure was caused by you. She slides the beanie off her head as the car reaches a normal temperature and runs her fingers through beautiful pink strands being kissed by the light of the moon. 

The natural fluff to the strands is restored, no longer inflated by the beanie you had embroidered her full name on. You can’t keep your eyes off of her. She must feel it because Vi catches your gaze and instantly her eyes go soft. It’s too much so you turn your eyes away; focusing on the snow falling on the windshield. 

“What’s going on? I’ve been patient for weeks but something changed and you’re not telling me.” 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” 

“The truth would be a good place to start.” 

Vi sighs, again, when you’re silent. No smartass rebuttal, no snide remark, not even an exasperated curse underneath your breath. Complete and utter silence.

But you feel trapped.

You’re terrified. Vi is too warm, loving, and painfully-pure. She might not know it, but she’s the girl you come back for. The one who you bring home to meet the family, the one who will bring you breakfast in bed when you feel under the weather and the one who will make sure you feel loved every single day. 

When other people figure that out, if Gert does, it’s over for you. Because maybe it was foolish, pathetic, and possibly tragic but you were just trying to sort yourself out long enough to see if you want those things with her. Now, it’s only a matter of time before she dotes on someone else who can give her everything she deserves. 

You should let her have this, it’s far better than her pleading eyes begging for something you’re not sure you can give. Caitlyn broke pieces you're not sure are repairable, parts of yourself that can’t be put back together. You didn’t even realize you had been crying until Vi’s wiping away your tears. 

The pad of her thumb is careful as she wipes all the tears away. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, princess. It’s just you and me.” 

“I-I can’t. It’s too…I just can’t.” You confess, sniffling as you try and calm yourself down. 

Vi guides you into the crook of neck as she does her best to hold you over the middle console of her truck. “It’s okay, princess. Shh, I’m right here.” It’s then that your sobs wrack your body and Vi decides she needs you as close as possible. Using her strength, she brings you into her lap, wrapping her tight arms around you as you sob into her neck. Salty tears stain Vi’s neck but she really doesn’t care. 

All she cares about is you. 

“It’s about Kiramman, isn't it?” 

Vi can’t hide her disdain for the woman. That much is clear as day. Whatever happened with the two of them burned deep. 

“Maybe murder isn’t such a bad thing.” 

“Vi.” You chuckle half heartedly. 

“There’s that smile..” You lift your head from the safety of her warmth, pressing your forehead against hers. Your breath is heavy on her lips, staring at the beautiful scar, the plumpness to her lips practically staring right at you. Close enough to see the constellations of freckles littered across her full cheeks. 

Your timing is awful but your heart gives into Violet’s gaze, lips falling closer together to hers. 

“Don’t make it like this.” Vi whispers, her powder-blue eyes gleaming at you. 

“What?” 

“Don’t kiss me for the first time because you’re sad about her. I can’t be her runner up. I’ve been playing that for too long.” 

“I won’t kiss you, not if you don’t want me to.” 

The tears are still fresh, but this need churning within you isn’t. Since the moment you met Vi, you’ve been fighting it. Fighting this. 

“Fuck, I do but,” Vi stalls when you unzip her leather jacket, revealing her wrapped chest, abs on display. “Shit, princess.” 

Fingers playing with the button of her trousers, waiting for her to push you away but she doesn’t. She does nothing of the sort. Vi’s breath is heavier than you’ve ever heard it. Looking down at your hands, waiting for you to pull the trigger on all of this. It’s then you realize Vi is letting you have all the control. If this is going to happen, she wants you to take it. It’s different from what you’re used to. 

A choice. 

It’s more than you could have expected. Vi isn’t pushing you away, isn’t telling you to stop. Not when you unbutton her pants and not when you suck on your fingers before slipping them beneath her boxers, feeling the soft curls and wondering if they match the drapes, before your fingers get perfectly acquainted with her. 

“Oh fuck—” Vi curses as she grabs onto your ass, lifting the short skirt you’ve been wearing all night, rucking it up to your hips as she sinks her nails into the skin. 

When you slip inside her, she clenches around your fingers, fucking her hips into your pace and Vi struggles to contain the whimpers. They flow out of her like a tidal wave. She’s been thinking about this moment with you for so long, just you and her — it’s the only thing Vi wants. 

When Vi saw you tonight she thought it was absolutely ridiculous for you to wear this strapless top, only because your nipples poked through the small fabric, but now she’s grateful you did. It’s easy to slip as she sucks a pierced nipple into her mouth. Her tongue plays with the barbell, causing you to groan as she pinches and delicately pulls at the other. As Vi kitten licks your nipple, she finds home on your ass again, before ripping your panties off. 

Her mouth is eager, hot, as she won’t stop giving attention to your chest. You’ve never wanted to kiss her more. 

“Can you take two, princess?” 

Eagerly you nod, a yearning yes falls from your lips. Vi doesn’t waste a beat. 

You try to fuck Vi harder, but she doubles down on her efforts, her fingers so deep and you feel so full. Trying to chase the high, you ride her fingers, almost as if you were riding her, your ass unable to stop humping against her. It’s just the two of you, a silent competition to get the other one off first and you can feel Vi winning. Then she’s extending her thumb, rubbing circles on your clit, and you know you’ve lost. 

“That’s it, just like that princess.” 

“Vi, Vi, baby, oh my godddddd—” 

Vi’s purely evil with every thrust of her fingers but she’s so full of light, an angel sent to you in your darkest hour. Batting her long eyelashes at you while she suckles on your bouncing tits, knuckle deep inside you as she gives you everything to just take. She’s too beautiful to look away from. With her pupils dilated, her blue eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them. Letting off your perfect tits with an obnoxious pop, she kisses up your sternum as she marks you with her lips everywhere but the place you actually want. 

But then her words revere in your mind once again. 

Don’t make it like this. 

“Look at me.” 

Eyes drifting back to her as she curls her fingers inside you, your grip on her hair iron tight, unwillingly to let go of you. 

“Such a beautiful girl, so special, so pretty when you form a sentence. The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. There’s no need to be jealous, babygirl, don’t need anyone else but you. Mhm, just you, alright? Yeah? Keep looking at me, yeah baby, just like this.” 

You nod, close to the brink, her compliments send a rush through your head and your throbbing clit feels it. 

The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. 

“Baby, I, shitttt Violettttt—” 

The name of her full name, the first time she’s ever heard it fall from your lips since the first time you met. Vi’s too close and hearing you scream her name isn’t helping. 

“C’mon, princess. Show me how pretty you can be.” Vi commands and you come undone around her fingers. 

Arching your back against the steering wheel, and the horn blows. 

You giggle and so does she but the soft moment is short lived as your body twitches, selfishly basking in the way you irrevocably coated her fingers in your cum. 

Bringing Violet with you as you pull at her hair, her face planting on on your chest as your breasts smother her moans as she jumps off the cliff with you. Sucking at the flesh, marking what she craves as you fuck yourself on her fingers, her pace even more brutal as Vi coaxes you through your blindingly, hot orgasm. 

“Just like that princess, pussy just can’t stop drenching for me, yeah? My pretty girl can paint my face next time. Do you want that? My face covered in your cum, dribbling down my chin, on my tits…you’ll clean me up though. A good girl like you will. So fuckin’ pretty.” 

One slap to your ass has you trembling, body shaking and that’s when Vi lays off, her fingers slipping out of you and you feel so empty without her. 

As if you didn’t need any more torture, you watch as she lavishes at her fingers, covered in your cum, her high cheekbones suctioning as she sucks every last drop. Vi smirks as you drool a little bit before you wipe the saliva off. Sweet as always, she doesn’t say a word. Saving you the embarrassment from a crude joke. 

One Caitlyn would definitely make. 

“Um, sorry, I think I got carried away.” 

“We both did, it’s okay, Vi.” 

There’s a soft silence, it would almost become cumbersome if it wasn’t so peaceful. The only thing you can hear is her exhale of breath as Vi tries to regain some composure. All of it feels complicated, the severed tie to Caitlyn doesn’t seem so entirely severed when her ex-girlfriend makes you come in the driver’s seat of her truck. 

If anyone found out about this, about the two of you, it would be the talk of the town. Caitlyn’s exes making a victory lap in Kirakiller’s grave. The victory is so triumphant even the goddess on top of the mountain gets scorched. It’s your worst nightmare. Your wish is to coddle this as long as you can. Savor the feeling, keeping Vi under lock and key. 

You just want to have this one thing for yourself. 

Even if you are far from her reach, she has a way of making sure any good thing gets ripped from you, torn from your hands before you even have a second to enjoy. As much as you enjoyed her company, this complicates. 

But it doesn’t stop your heart from thumping loudly. A shiver runs up your spine as Vi pulls down your skirt. There’s a tenderness to her touch as she fixes your top, covering your chest once again. You nearly lock your lips with hers when she rubs your full cheeks with the pad of her thumb, smoothing along her jaw as she leans in to kiss the tip of your nose.  Unable to snuffle it, you smile. 

It’s genuine when the light reaches your eyes. Vi says nothing, anything would be too heavy, something neither of you are ready for. A silent agreement to enjoy this moment for what it is. 

“Are you doing anything for Valentines? Mel and Sevika are having this party and I thought you might wanna go together.” The panic surges through her powder-blue eyes the moment she asks the question. 

Is that why she came tonight? Did she want to ask you? 

Reminding you of the first night you met, a party and Sevika and Mel’s but you find yourself to be in an entirely different position. The idea of a date without the pressure, you’d be surrounded by your friends. But you tremor with the thought of Violet wanting to spend Valentine’s day with you. 

“But it’s, um, perfectly fine if you already have plans. It's just I don’t want to spend it alone. Powder is off spending it with Ekko this year, Vander is doing god knows what and Silco well, that would just be pathetic if I asked him what his plans are. I really just—” 

“Violet.” 

Violet.

Violet. 

Violet. 

The second it rolls off your tongue, a crimson hue forms on her freckled cheeks, even spreading across the bridge of her nose before it coats the tips of her ears. A soft pink unlike her vibrant locks of messy hair, partially due to your tugging and pulling. 

“Sorry, Vi. It just slipped.” 

“No. I mean not no. I wasn’t trying to be rude. You can call me, Violet, if you want to.” 

I like hearing you say my name, it sounds even more beautiful than when you whispered it falling apart on my fingers. 

But Vi couldn’t say that. 

“Well then, Violet, I would love to go with you. Count me in.” 

She didn’t need to know you already had plans on going. This was much better. 

— 

Mel decides to take you up on the offer of studying at the library tonight. With your future hanging on by the thread that is your scholarship, you have to keep your grades airtight. Not to mention the downfall of your situation with Caitlyn only puts a bullseye on your back. 

The first couple of hours have been silent for the two of you, the accountability keeping you in check to stay focused. Then the third hour approaches and the two of you start to quietly converse in the nearly vacant library. 

“Did Sev tell you who came into Leagues last night?” 

Shutting your book, your eyes squint in confusion. 

“Kiramman.” 

“I thought the ship had sailed away during that fight. God, it nearly made me want to strangle her and we all know violence is more of Sev’s choice of resolution.” 

“It has. She likes checking in on her so-called…wounded. She’s never been one for grace. I wish she would make it less obvious, Leagues isn’t even her scene. Her pompous ass would never be caught dead in there when we were, well, whatever the fuck you would call us. But she’s been quite the regular ever since I cut things off. 

It’s surprising she would come to you, but on the other hand, she didn’t know where you lived. It was the only straw for her to grasp on. It’s probably killing her to know she’s been blocked on everything, no contact, a complete ghost town. Almost as if none of you even existed together, just a memory faded, one you hope to burn into ash. 

“Well, Vi was there hanging out with Gert and—” 

“She was?” 

Mel suddenly felt like she said something she shouldn’t have. 

“Appearances can be deceiving, they did talk for a bit, yes, but how does that have any level of importance?” Mel can’t hide her lips upturning. 

“Nothing.” 

“Hey kid, lighten up. I think you’re two seconds away from snapping that pencil in half.” The rasp of Sevika’s voice pulls you back to earth, but it’s too late for the pencil as the infrastructure snaps. You feel like a child, caught in doing something they shouldn’t do. 

“Oh, so this is a thing? Vi?” Mel almost speaks a little too loudly, her voice reaching endless limits as the object of your affection is named in the very silent library. “I just thought you wanted to make Kirakiller jealous. Not actually…” 

You bury your head in your notebook, wanting to strangle Sevika as you hear her chuckle, taunting you as your traitorous heart fails you in your time of need. Maliciously giving you up as your tragic negligence exposes you truly. 

Even if it’s silly, needy, or a little bit selfish — you wanted this one part of your life to be concealed from beady eyes. 

“Finally coming to your senses.” Sevika taunts. 

“Enough. I’m not…Violet and aren’t��that’s not what this is.” 

Mel gives you a knowing look, arching her perfectly arched eyebrow, hazel eyes with a ring of gold surrounding them piercing so deeply into your soul. It almost has you stuttering out how you let her fuck you in Violet’s truck, driving you back home with her warm, soft hand on your exposed thigh. Absentmindedly drawing circles into your skin. 

“Violet?” Sevika and Mel say in unison. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

“Vi doesn’t let anyone call her that. The only one who's ever called her that is well, her family. She yelled at Kirakiller for calling her that whenever they fought. Vi looked like she could rip her tongue out.” 

The information makes your head spin, there is only so much you can take. 

“It’s just a name. Seems like Vi is preoccupied anyways. This is just so…” 

“Hey Vi!” 

You turn around, hearing her greet someone she was friendly with. In her athletic shorts and cleats, it’s clear practice had started again, her gym bag in tote. The sweat and grime layered over her face, the sleeves of her jersey rolled into her shoulders. With each movement, her muscles rippled in the dim lighting of the library. 

The navy blue jersey complimented her vibrant strands of pink, she laughs at whoever she’s talking to and she looks so happy and at peace, it makes your heart soar. Rugby always made her the happiest. Vander and Vi used to play when she was just a girl, even Powder joined as they got older but when Violet got stronger, she restricted for playing seriously with classmates her own size and not old men whose knees could give out in any second. 

She still doesn’t see you and you want to keep it that way so you turn around, minding your own even if your two closest friends in the world just watched you gawk over Violet. 

“It’s just going to get worse. Living together. It’s only a matter of time until one of you…” Sevika gestures to the pencil lying broken on the table. 

“Well, try not to act too disheartened at the party. Vi said she’s bringing someone. I’m sure it won’t work out between them. Ever since she’s gotten here she hasn’t been able to—” 

Sevika places her hand on Mel, to cue her to silence herself as Vi walks up to the table, grabbing the chair closest to you and discreetly pushes it even closer to you when she takes her seat. 

Immediately, you chastise yourself for loving how turned on you are by her sweaty body, her muscles clearly acquiring the pump from her practice, those stupid strong calves brushing against yours. You admire the scar against her top lip. Tattoos on display, making your head feel dizzy, and she leans over and asks if she can have a couple of your orange slices. Before falling right back in conversation with Sevika. 

Violet does anything to be close to you. Mel and you are engrossed in a conversation, when she shows you the video you were discussing, Vi has to lean over to see. Her arm hanging off your shoulder, her neck craning to see but when she sits back, she keeps her arm around the back of your chair. 

“How did practice go today?” You ask. 

“Fine.” But the grass stains on her shirt tell you differently, so does the burn on her exposed shin. 

“Who the fuck did you let kick your ass?” Sevika interjects before you have the chance to. 

“Can’t kick Kirakiller’s ass. Dean Kiramman might throw me out faster than I can blink. I’m already on thin ice and Kirakiller just made it worse. She doesn’t like losing.” 

Violet glances at you, her expression unreadable as she turns her attention back to Sevika. 

“Got outvoted for Team Captain and she can’t fucking stand it. You know the pompous Kirammans don't believe in democracy. One for all and all for none. Some bullshit Kirakiller says while she’s trying to out-bench me in the weight room. Not my fucking problem. Hasn’t been for a while. She went in for some cheap blows during drills. It is what it is.” 

Sevika nods her head, “Seems like you did a real number on her. She shouldn’t have fumbled half of this table.” 

“Sev.” You shoot a glaring warning. 

Violet visibly tenses but she doesn’t remove her arm, Mel elbowing Sev in the gut softly before she coughs up a quiet apology. The tension could be cut with a knife, but Violet just plays with the material of your cotton shirt, soothing herself as she tries to forget. 

“Right, yep.” An awkward silence disperses before Mel and Sevika excuse themselves leaving you and Violet alone. 

“Violet, I can talk to her. She shouldn’t be taking this out on you. This is all my fault.” 

“It’s not you, alright? Not directly. Caitlyn likes to hurt when she’s hurt. I can handle her.” 

Vi chew on her lip, breaking through skin as blood comes to the surface, the iron taste coating her tongue. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question Violet. 

“She knows she can’t lash out at the one thing she wants.” 

The one thing we both want, Vi thinks to herself. 

She takes the brunt of Caitlyn’s anger and she doesn’t even know why. Maybe an understanding but doesn’t know the full picture. You’re too much of a coward to let it slip. If everything goes south, the woman you adored could truly hate you and that’s the last thing you wanted. It’s silly to even hide a secret. Especially when you feel as if she sees right through your heart when her curious blue eyes look at you. 

“Trust me, I’m playing against what I want but she’s not as done as you think she is. She’ll come back for you, princess. You’re someone anyone would come back for. I’m the low totem pole trash found underneath her designer sole, there’s never been a place for me in her life.” 

“Don’t do that.” 

“It’s the truth.” 

“No, it isn’t. You’re more than how she treated you. Don’t talk about yourself like that. It’s the furthest thing from the truth.” 

Vi nods, tries to offer a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“What really happened? You look banged up and it looks more than just a rough practice. You know you can tell me anything. I’m all ears for you.” 

Vi struggles for a moment, and contemplates on telling you the truth. You deserve to know the truth and she knows that but she also can’t stand for Caitlyn to hurt another piece of you. This entire time apart from Caitlyn, you’ve done your best to separate and get over her. She can’t be the person to make you feel any worse about the situation. 

Caitlyn can’t get more in the way, she won’t allow it. 

“Kiramman just being a cunt, okay? It’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

“Okay but I’m cleaning that cut on your arm when we get home.” You nudge your shoulder against hers. Talking solace as she places her head in the crook of your neck. 

“Whatever you want, princess.” 

Then the question nags in the back of your mind, I saw her with Gert. But you’re putting her with Caitlyn. You think she’s cheating on you but there’s isn’t anything to cheat on. You’ve never spoken about that night in her pick-up truck but still dream of it. 

Luscious, greedy cunt taking her fingers in ease as you fucked her to completion. The whines she made, how harmonious they were with your own. The image stays imprinted on your mind, scorching the deepest depths of your mind for all eternity to see. 

But it’s not everyone taking a look. 

It’s just you. Keeping a lid on it has been more than you bargained for. Vi is the person who has been there to help you. When you’ve felt like the cards are stacked against you, it’s her that pulls you out. Every day after the breakup, if you could even call it that, you evidently were just a warm body to fuck for Caitlyn, Violet was there to make sure you were okay. 

The daily check-ins, making sure you were staying hydrated through all the tears, cooking dinner for the both of you when she knows you skipped lunch. It’s the little things you’re beating yourself up over and it makes you wonder what was really going on. 

If Caitlyn had taught you anything, it was people did fuck you because that’s the only thing they want. But you wanted Violet to be different. More than you ever had than Caitlyn, you need her to be more than what you’ve always been. 

“Are you alright, princess? Lost you there for a second.” 

You hope she never does. And you never want to lose her. You swallow your jealousy, you decide to trust, despite your best efforts; your heart remains unprotected. You chose blind trust, even if you know better, you lean into the faith. 

“Yeah, I’m here with you. Promise.” 

—

There’s red, pink, and white — everywhere. Mel is passionate about Valentine's day. In weeks of build up, this party is all she spoke of. Dragging you along to shop when buying decorations, but you didn’t mind. Sevika covering you at the bar means one less shift this week. After last night’s events, you could use the breather. 

If Sev wasn’t there, putting the men in place, the status of your safety would severely be in question. Vi came after you called, just complaining about it on your break, and thirty minutes later she sat on your section of the bar with one of her favorite books in hand. 

“You didn’t have to come. See? Still in one piece.” 

“Mhm and that’s how I want you to stay. Sorry princess, I’m not going anywhere.” 

It’s not like you needed any more reason to enjoy her company. You have too many. And they come to your mind as needy as a bee to honey. It’s why you bail on coming as a pair, you had a valid excuse, but you also knew if Mel knew why you were helping decorate their home she would literally kick you back to be with Violet. 

Hanging the banner in the entry was the last of your duties and before you knew it everyone was shuffling in one by one. The party is in full swing by the time Violet walks in the front door and you nearly collapse from just how damn good she looks. A bouquet of flowers, an assortment of pink and yellow roses with a few lilies meticulously placed in the arrangement. 

“I hope it’s not too much but I wanted to do something nice for you.” 

“They are beautiful, Violet. You really didn’t have to.” 

She smiles as she leans in to kiss your temple, “Of course I did.” 

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch, the games Mel has planned are fun. Everyone engages with each other and it is surprisingly pleasant. The only unsettling feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is the ginger in the corner who has been eyeing you all night but the shirley temples you’ve been drinking all night has you dazed, sitting on Violet’s lap with her arms wrapped around your waist. 

Vi’s a bit inebriated as she plays with the hem of your dress, whispering how beautiful you look in your ear. You fidget in her hold, grinding against her even when you’re really not even meaning to. 

Astoundingly, the door slams, her arrival being announced. 

Uninvited and as prompt as ever. 

“Oh, so this—“ Caitlyn gestures to Vi as if she’s the sticky gum on the bottom of her overpriced sneaker, “my leftovers is why you chose to end things?” 

She’s charging as the ginger gets up from her seat, trying to hold Caitlyn back but she fails but in an instant, Vi stands up. Every protective bone in her body goes hyperactive, proving herself as a blockade between you and the devil herself. The smirk Vi wears makes Caitlyn violently scowl. She may be taller, but she’s smaller, thinner, not packing nearly as much muscle in her punch. 

There was nothing she would love more than to punch that stupid, coy fucking smile off her face. 

“What are you gonna do, cupcake?” She says the once endearing nickname, crathing to slither underneath her skin, she wants to piss her off to no end. Make Caitlyn regret ever fucking with either of you. It’s all this ever was, a game. Kiramman’s are always desperate to win, to annihilate your opponent. Any future moves made would be contingent in how she made you feel. 

“Get out of my way, Violet.” 

“Call me that again and I’ll knock your teeth out. And what are you going to do about it? Everyone may be afraid of you outside of the field, but in case you have forgotten, this isn't on campus where things are done the Kiramman way. If you wanna take a cheap shot at me, better make it count.” 

With a careful gaze, Caitlyn’s eyes beam down to the hand clinging to Vi’s bicep, how you’re looking at Vi and touching her skin and how dreadful you look to her. 

She directs her voice to you, “What? You’re gonna pick her over me? Like we mean nothing?” 

Bitterly, you laugh, but it isn’t funny. Not one bit. 

“It’s painful, isn’t it? Being on the other side of it.” Taking a step forward, leaning against Violet’s shoulder, intertwining your fingers together. “Those were your words exactly, Kiramman. This is nothing.” 

“I–” For the first time, right before your eyes, she’s stunned. For the first time since she’s met you, she’s speechless. 

“Caitlyn, we should just–” 

“Maddie, enough.” 

The both of you have done more than just rattle her, you’ve surprised her and Violet would be smiling so damn wide if Caitlyn still wasn’t in front of her. 

“Baby, can we talk about this? Just a minute of your time and we can sort this out.” Violet won’t stand for the desperate pleas for a moment longer. She takes a step forward, getting in Kiramman’s face, “I think you and your little orange muppet should get the fuck out before I throw you out myself.” 

“This isn’t any of your business, Vi.” 

“When you’re talking to my girl like that, it really fucking is.” 

My girl. 

Violet seems to be two seconds away from physically throwing her out when Mel finally interjects. “Caitlyn, you are unwelcome, uninvited, and you’re trespassing. I ask that you please leave before other extreme measures need to be taken.” 

A venomous scoff leaves her lips as Maddie drags her away, slamming the door on her way out. 

You're rattled, but not from Caitlyn, but from the assertiveness you didn’t know Vi possessed. The implications of this would serve consequences to not just Vi but to you but you couldn’t focus on that right now. She had called you her girl. 

Vi’s girl. 

“Well now that’s out of the way…” Mel jokes, lightening the mood as the party jumps back in full swing. But all you hear is Vi’s voice calling you hers and it’s like she knows what you’re thinking of when she spares a glance. 

“I’m sorry it just slipped but I couldn’t stand her looking at you like that. Like you were some piece of meat she can have whenever she wants.” Violet apologizes. Rubbing the back of your hand with your thumb, tracing her name into your skin. 

“It’s okay, um, it was actually really hot…” Immediately, she takes a step forward in an effort to be closer to you. “I-I’ve never really seen you be so uh–” 

“What princess?” Mischievously, she girls her head, biting her lip right before she licks them, her tongue piercing teasing you. 

“I dunno…it was just really hot seeing you like that…calling me that.” 

“My girl?” Vi smiles. It’s so genuine, making you swoon with a sincerity only she can give. 

“Yeah, something like that, maybe.” 

“I can call you a lot more things if you want. Wanna take a bet if they actually locked their bathroom?” 

Neither of you have ever moved so quickly in your life. Clothes get thrown on the tile the minute the two of you are alone, pressing your frame against the door as she decorates your neck in sovereign possession. She never wants anyone to question, you’re her girl. 

“Vi, do you,  fuccckkkk, really think this is a good idea?” She only grunts in reply as you're nearly fully exposed, your weeping cunt grinding against the muscular thigh she offers so graciously. Your friendship with her hangs in the balance, and you don’t want to think about that right now but you can’t help but have your doubts. 

“We can stop if you want to. Whatever you want.” Vi moves to remove her thigh until you whimper, tugging her closer by her pink hair towards you. 

“I didn’t say that. Please, don’t stop.” 

“Mhm, okay princess but only because you asked so nicely.” 

Vi pushes her against your pussy, your hips falling more erratic as Violet gets lost in your neck. Lips marking whatever inch of skin they can find as your folds get the needed friction from her trousers. Blindly sucking on the sweet spot behind your ear, making you putty in her hands. 

With a tight grip, you pull at her vibrant hair, her roots grounding you as the build in the pit of your stomach increases. But she pulls away just when you’re getting close. If your hands didn’t have the edge of the sink to hold onto, you’re not sure your legs would have supported you. 

“Did you want to stop?” 

“No.” Vi smirks. 

“Then why the hell did you?” 

She says nothing, infuriating you further. It almost pisses you off to the point where it’s painful. Vi keeps smirking at god knows what. Maybe she finds you just as pathetic as Caitlyn does. It may have been a distant future, when Caitlyn had actually been decent in her freshman year, her and Vi were the talk of the town until it all abruptly ended and no one knew why. You’ve never asked. 

Vi’s friendly with you but not to the point where she’s an open book. She’s hardly an open book with anyone, she’s careful when she hooks up with others. Especially with the who, she doesn’t want someone who's going to go off and tell the rest of campus how many fingers she used while she makes them come. 

But now, you like her. Really fucking badly. 

The way she snapped on her, protecting you, nearly connecting her fist with Caitlyn’s sharp jawline. It’s one of the reasons you’re in here with her. But still, not knowing the reason makes you feel slightly unsettled. 

There's been different rumors over the past few years surrounding Vi the sweetest girl around and Kirakiller. All of them painting Caitlyn in a god awful light. 

Kirakiller cheated on Vi. 

Vi left because Kirakiller didn’t want to make things official. 

Kirakiller‘s tenacious appetite for the bedroom couldn’t be satisfied by Vi. 

Kirakiller said Vi couldn’t make her come. 

The list goes on and on, and on. Neither of them were seen to be around each other again, not until Caitlyn seemed to catch you in her web. It was the sin of the century. Vi’s roommate seeing her ex-girlfriend. It was messy to say the least. A few long weeks and you cooking Vi her favorite meal, buying her favorite sour candy in bulk, along with some new gadget for her computer she’d been wanting. 

It’s all it took to forgive you. Her only request was to keep Caitlyn out of the apartment while she was here. She never spoke about her again and you never pressed the wound. If Vi didn’t ever want to talk about it but why they broke up gnawed at you. 

But Violet doesn’t seem to give a shit about that right now. 

“Get on your knees, princess.” 

You obliged as Vi took off the sweater, revealing a grey fitted tank-top, showing off just how fit she stayed in the crisp of winter. 

“Good girl. Now, take off my belt, yeah?” 

You released the belt from the latch, pulling it through the loop and handing it to Vi. Her firm grip grabs the belt, as she kneels behind you, bounding your wrists together by the smooth, cold leather. It’s black with a silver clasp, it feels nice against your wrists as she tightens it. As far as you can tell, it’s new and it makes you wonder if she bought it for just an occasion like this. 

Wrists bound behind your back, Vi slaps the fat of your ass before soothing over with delicate fingers, the calloused pads of her fingers playing with your puckered hole as she thumbs it gently. 

Pulling it back for a moment, collecting saliva in her warm mouth before drooling over your ass. Smothering her own spit, a place you’d never let anyone touch. You've convinced yourself all this time it’s because of your boundaries but when Vi did it, you didn’t have a problem with it. Then you realize you have trust with Vi, one you hadn’t had with anyone else. 

It was just a spur of the moment, two horny girls lonely and single, needing someone else but you also know Vi wasn’t one to sleep with half the campus. She’s a one-woman kind of girl. Maybe you need that trust. 

You’re hesitant, still but you can’t bring yourself to say no. She’s attentive, making sure you’re alright with each moment. Not wanting to push you past a limit both of you can’t come back from. 

“Is this alright?” Vi whispers into your ear as if she can read your mind. 

“Yeah, it’s good.” You take a beat before moaning as you lean into her chest, “A little too good.” 

Vi chuckles into your ear, the vibrations tingle throughout your body. Suddenly your mind is wondering how a simple giggle can make you feel so soaked. With a gentle hand, her thumb keeps on playing with your ass as she maneuvers you into her lap and that’s when you feel it. 

A faux cock. 

“Is that a—” You want to ask but for the first time in your life, you feel shy. 

“A cock?” 

“Someone’s cocky.” 

You both giggle at your innuendo. 

Lightly, with soaked fingers she pulls out of your lips, she rims your puckered hole, a coveted limit in your body but with her, you so freely wish to give it. 

The eye contact feels awfully intimate but you can’t bring yourself to tear yourself away. It’s entirely new to you. Caitlyn never liked to look you in the eyes when she fucked you. Always something to hide, how she truly feels about you is privy to anyone else but her. 

You didn’t have the right to know. 

With Vi, everything becomes so clear. 

It’s crystal clear when she asks if she can slide a finger inside your ass, it’s overly intimate when you tell her yes as your eyes never leave hers. Her eyes are as hooded as you’ve ever seen them but she won’t break eye contact. Not for a second. You’re questioning if she’s even blinking. 

With each passing second, her pink hair surrounds you as her forehead pressed against yours, blue eyes open as she asks again if you’re okay with it. You give her another yes before her middle finger slides in your mouth, your tongue circling the digit before sucking on it dramatically. Letting off with a pop, Vi teases your forbidden hole one more time before she gently coaxes you open for her. 

“Shit, Shit, that’s—” You squint your eyes shut. The new sensation is a little too much for your brain to process much less the fluttering pressure in the pit of your stomach. 

“Look at me, princess. Keep your eyes on me, alright?” Vi lightly commands, her tone as sweet as you’ve ever heard it. 

With the sweet words thrown your way, your eyes flutter open, long eyelashes kissing your brow bone. Vi smiles softly, her top lip lifting as she sees the way you’re looking at her. 

Kirakiller is so fucking stupid, Vi thinks to herself be she keeps the words to herself. 

Vi stretches you more as her entire finger sits within you, waiting for you to be ready for more and when you are, she nearly comes herself. You’re louder than anyone she’s ever been with. She’s thankful for the loud music Mel insisted on, some shitty pop tune drowning out the two of you. Violet’s never been so thankful. 

Those shitty pop tunes are drowning the especially deafening screams of Vi’s name until your vocal chords are shot. With a strong wrist and the flick of her wrist, she can tell you’re already close. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve never done this before.” Shining eyes are glossy as ever as you struggle to keep them open and focused on her. “Never felt this, shiiiittttt, Vi, please. I’m so close.” 

“What do you mean? Has no one ever fucked your ass? You’ve been sleeping with Kiramman. How have you not—” 

“Never let her.” That sends Vi’s clit throbbing viciously. 

“Kirakiller’s an ass lover, everyone knows that.” 

“Are we gonna sit her talking about her the entire time or are you gonna make me come?” Agitating you roll your eyes but Vi licks her lips slowly as a distraction, pulling your attention to her pierced tongue and then you feel another finger stretch at your ass. 

“What did you say, princess? Something about coming?” Vi uses another finger, her long digits spreading the slit in your lower lips, making a mess as she spreads the pre-cum spilling out of you. “Be a good girl won’t you?” Vi pinches your clit and just like that your eyes shut again, a completely shattering orgasm washed over you. 

Body twitching as Vi keeps you in her hold with a strong grip, your body riding against her fingers but she isn’t too pleased for a moment as she tuts. 

“What did I say princess? Eyes open, now.” You struggle, again, but you’re able to meet her demand. There’s an urge to look away, to hide in Vi’s pink hair, her tattooed neck, but you do none of it. Dangerous eyes look at yours as she fucks you through it. You wanted to tug at her hair, pull her closer to you, but hands are bound so all you can do is take it, with loud moans being released, ones you’re trying to control but utterly fail to do so. 

“So pretty like this, yeah? God, those gorgeous eyes of yours are gonna get me in trouble. Crying for me like that, makes me wanna take you back to our home and fuck you on my bed, baby. You’re such a beautiful girl and deserve to be treated like one, my sweet girl.” 

Vi isn’t sure if you’re crying from the intimacy or from the orgasm, probably both. It’s not a secret since the start of the semester you’d been with Kiramman but Vi knew first hand what that meant. There’s no eye contact, no cuddling, no reassurances, it’s just sex. When Vi was going through it herself, she could see the toll it even took on Caitlyn but she didn't break. Her resolve is rock solid and Vi had learned it the hard way, just as she supposed you did. 

It was an endless cycle and it seems Kiramman continued it again with you. It’s evil the way she pulls you apart, makes each part of you feel special, like you’re her entire world and there’s no one else but there always is someone else. Always. Kiramman will lie through her perfectly aligned teeth but there is always someone she keeps for a backup. 

Vi wipes away your tears as she soothes you with soft whispers and delicate hands running up and down your back. It feels like the easiest thing she’s done, soothing you into serenity. With gentle care, she takes the belt off of your wrists, rubbing soft circles over the sensitive skin as you come back to yourself. The alcohol feels like a memory. Her kindness makes your head spin and your heart flutter. 

Now, you understand why the two of them never worked. 

Vi is everything Caitlyn struggles to be. 

It’s like looking in a mirror of everything you want to be but knowing you’ll never be her. The imperfection of Caitlyn’s kindness and the overabundance of Vi’s is probably too much of a bruise to her ego. One could see how much it would eat her alive. Vi helps you relocate your clothes that are scattered across the bathroom floor. Shamelessly, she watches as you dress yourself again, not one to look away from the woman she had screaming her name not even five minutes prior. 

“You’re so beautiful, can’t keep my eyes off you.” 

“C’mon Violet. We live together, I’m the same ole’ me. Now, you’ve just fucked my ass.” You try to brush off the compliment. You feel more similar to Caitlyn then you’d like to admit. Vi’s wholeheartedness is overwhelming, leaving a sting of longing every time she looks at you with a light in her curious eyes. 

You slip on your dress and Vi is quick to zip you up but not without kissing the nape of your neck. 

Tonight’s actions suddenly feel very sobering. 

Vi isn’t done with you as she lifts you up on the countertop, finding her sweatshirt before she covers her toned figure again. You’re wondering what she’s playing at. What she’s thinking about. Vi finds your heels, the versace platform heels Caitlyn had gifted you for your birthday a week after the fact. A pity gift. Similar to herself, you couldn’t say no, it was just too pretty. 

They’re too expensive to come from a broke college student. Vi knows where they came from but she exercises that tight lip of hers. 

With a gentle tap, she taps your calf lightly a couple times and you offer your leg to her as she slaps the heel back onto your feet, clasping the strap around your ankle before she does the same for the other. The both of you stare at the lingering hands on your thighs, rubbing soft circles into the skin, the bluntness of her fingernail causes goosebumps to spread across the skin. 

Caitlyn is terrified of this, something so soft and fragile, her grip would be too tight; she’d break you in the process. She’s a chapter you want to close. All you want now is the woman in front of you. 

Vi has only ever been just a friend and she treats you like this. An imaginative mind, one of your own making, starts to wonder…if Vi was in love with Caitlyn, was she even sweeter to her? If her golden heart wasn’t enough for Caitlyn, whose would it be? 

The question makes you lost on the idea. Maybe it’s the post-nut clarity of being fucked like you just were, but you see Vi an entirely new light. One that feels as blinding as the sun but she’s smothering you with a perfect amount of warmth. 

“So…that happened.” Lightly, Vi laughs trying to brush off the seriousness of the moment. 

“Yeah and it seems you came packing.” 

Mel has been talking her up all week, telling her she wasn’t just seeing things, all she had to do was give you space and you would come to her slowly. It seems like Mel hadn’t been totally wrong. You are clearly attracted to her but the more protective side of her mind wonders if this is all that it extends to — sex. 

The flashback of Caitlyn and all her little twisted games comes to mind while your curious eyes inspect her intensely. 

“It’s just a stroke of optimism.” Vi tries to control her breathing when you close your legs around her waist, crossing your legs over the other as you lock her into a secure position. 

The tight dress you’re wearing bunches up again, almost resting on your hips. 

“I think you were wanting to stroke something else.” 

“Uh. No. I was, definitely…okay…maybe I was. A little bit.” Vi admits as you continue to play with her hair, your heel lightly grazing her bum as you tease her for just a little bit longer. 

“It’s cute. I like it when you’re confident. You packed a cock in your pants because you wanted to fucked me tonight. Be proud about it. Yeah, maybe you didn’t get to use it but you sure did fuck me.” 

“How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” 

“You’re so brave. Nothing stands in your way, when you want something you go after it. I could never do that.” 

“Well, you kinda did. Unless, um—” But the words die in your throat. Suddenly they seem too real and if you tell her, this whole charade will be over, reality will set in and this magical night will only be reduced to primal, drunken needs. 

For all you know, Vi didn’t mean any of this. Maybe you just wanted to get your pussy wet, wanted to fuck a pretty girl, needed to see some tits to get her through this lonely holiday. The one that patronizes the single. 

Maybe that’s all this is. You’re just a nice piece of ass to fuck. It makes you feel dirty, the air feels thinner, and before you know it Vi’s whispering in your ear to take deep breaths. 

“Princess, I’m right here, alright. Just breathe and tell me. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“I-I just thought because you know, well, after the last month I thought I was more than just…” 

“A girl I wanna fuck?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, you are. Would that be such a bad thing? I know with Caitlyn you had something casual, and maybe you liked things that way, but I want something more serious. I don't want to play with your feelings and I don’t want you to play mine. If this is what you want then I think it’d be worth a shot but if not, we can just be friends, alright? There’s no pressure.” 

“But Natalie…you said she wanted something serious and you didn’t.” 

“I lied to you and I’m sorry for that. But I wanted something serious, just not with her.” 

“You know what you want.” You stated it more like a question, puzzled and perplexed about a woman, for the first time, saying exactly what she’s looking for. 

“Well…yeah? I respect you enough not to waste your time.” Her eyes gleam, expectant and waiting for you to answer. 

“I’ve never had someone so honest with me. I kinda don’t know what to do with it.” 

The most sincere eyes look into yours, as she leans into your fingers that play with her vibrant, violet hair. It’s all so fast but Vi nurtures everything once broken within you until you’re healthy once again, restoring the strength you once felt before your heart stopped listening to your head. 

It’s a warm, comforting feeling you want to sink into. She’s the closest you’ve had to a semblance of hope. You wondered how anyone could ever let go of her. It wasn’t that she had just given you the best orgasm of your life, it was more than that. Vi made you feel more in thirty minutes than Caitlyn had in your entire time together. 

There wasn’t a worry in the back of your mind if this mattered, if you mattered. Her eyes were so open, letting you into the love dripped like honey, full of sweetness, every empty jar of yours waiting to be filled. 

“Don’t do anything right now then. For now,” Vi leaned forward, her lips ghosting yours. Close enough where her breath could be felt on yours. “I don’t know where you’re at but I’ve never felt like this, about anyone, and if you wanna start slow we can. Although, we have twice now so I don’t know how slow we can actually go, or we could even go on real date and then you can decide but—”

“Violet?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You talk too much.” 

You lean in and Vi doesn’t waste the opportunity, capturing your top lip between hers, wanting nothing more than to get lost in every inch of you. Holding you like a delicate flower she’s afraid to crumple in her hands, Vi lets herself get lost in this. 

For once she doesn’t think of the consequences, if this is moving too fast, wondering what Caitlyn would do if she knew and who she would actually be jealous of. It’s a slippery slope, you messing with her, Vi messing with you. 

But she desperately wants it to be more than your roommate, more than a friend — more than secret meeting where Vi fucks you senseless. She can’t get into this and for it to mean nothing and she’s terrified Caitlyn already has her claws dung in deep to you. Then there’s a moan of Vi’s name being said, and her greedy tongue slips in your mouth as she aches for more of you. 

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling your frame impossibly close to her, commanding your mouth with her pierced tongue as if she was born for it, the coolness of the stainless steel ball tangled with your tongue is a high you want to chase. With every touch, a shiver runs up her spine, like there’s a live wire exposed within you and only her touch can spark it alive. 

Vi knows where you want to be touched before you say a word, like she has a connection to your mechanisms, every craving designed for her to carry out as if she’s the one who put them there in the first place. Violet’s pelvis presses against yours, as she gives you the kiss of your life, it leaves you breathless as you chase her lips, your grip pulling at her roots as if it’s your sole purpose in life. 

The rest of the world melts away and it’s just the two of you. The lingering shadow of your ex fades into the background and all you see is Violet. Right under your nose this entire time and only now do you realize just how wonderfully perfect she is. 

Violet ravishes in how good it feels to be chosen and it’s by you. 

The angel who can fly all on her own now; wings no longer clipped by the devil herself. 

Fin. 

[ducktoo]

Again

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x M!Reader

Note: I have resorted to the sacred prompt list by Anon again….this helped me so much frrr. Hope you will post your first ever fic here so I can tagged you!!

This concludes the unofficial (or official ig) IZ*ONE marathon. @hyeyulenjoyer hope this was a fun ride for you. And thank you everyone for enjoying these fics as well! Also appreciate IVE for paying respect to the recent tragedy. All the dumb haters who find ways to hate them again....just touch grass pls.

(this was the perfect picture for this fic lol)

The tickets sit on your desk, undisturbed, their glossy surface catching the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You don’t even need to read the text printed on them anymore. The details are already burned into your brain.

A fan sign.

It was supposed to be special. The kind of thing you looked forward to for weeks, marked on your calendar with a little star. You were supposed to show up, tease her about messing up choreography, make her laugh in the middle of a serious performance, see that look in her eyes that was just for you.

Now, the tickets feel like a joke.

Your phone is face-down beside them, dark screen hiding the messages you haven't opened yet—the well-meaning texts from friends, the casual work notifications. All messages except from her.

Wonyoung.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't help. The memory of your last call with her is still fresh, the words playing over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

"I just don’t have time for this anymore."

"For us, you mean?"

"Mhm."

The way she said it—calm, measured, like it was just another item to tick off on her to-do list—had made something inside you crack. There had been no anger in her voice. No hesitation.

That…hurt more than anything.

You had wanted to say something, anything to make her stop. To remind her of the nights spent whispering over the phone until she fell asleep, of the rare moments when she let herself be vulnerable with you, of the way she would light up the second she saw you waiting for her backstage to take her to eat a whole cow together.

But you couldn't mutter a voice.

You had just sat there, phone pressed to your ear, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it threatened to tear.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was three days ago.

Three days of checking your phone too often. Three days of convincing yourself you were fine. Three days of staring at these damn tickets on the desk and trying to figure out why you hadn’t just thrown them away. You should sell them. Give them to someone who’d actually enjoy them.

But something stops you.

Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s the stupid, lingering part of you that refuses to admit that she’s really gone. Whatever the reason, you find yourself gripping them tighter instead of throwing them away.

You decided that you will go.

Not for her. Not to see her.

Just so you don’t have to sit in this room, drowning in thoughts of what used to be.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

-

The venue is packed.

Fans shuffle forward in line, their chatter buzzing in the air like static. Excited whispers, rustling light sticks, the occasional squeal when a favourite member’s name is mentioned.

Your fingers tighten around the album in your hands. (Ironically you still hold onto her album)

This is normal for them. For the fans around you, this is just another fan sign. A chance to meet their idols, to share fleeting moments, to walk away with a signature and a memory they’ll cherish for years.

You should feel the same. Instead, you’re just… tired. Who could blame you, you’re about to come face-to-face with your ex-girlfriend.

And she has no idea you’re here.

Your grip on the album tightens as the line inches forward. The first few members greet you with polite smiles, their voices light and bubbly. You do your best to respond normally, but your mind is elsewhere, trapped in the inevitable moment that keeps creeping closer and closer.

You don’t need to look up to know she’s at the end of the table. You can feel her presence.

And then, suddenly, there’s no more time left.

Your album slides across the table. Long, slender fingers stop it in place.

There’s a small pause—so brief that no one else seems to notice—but you do. You feel it in the slight delay before she looks up, in the way her fingers tighten just a fraction around the album’s edge.

And then her eyes meet yours.

She looks the same. Flawless, as always. Every strand of hair perfectly in place, makeup soft and ethereal under the bright overhead lights. And those sparkly eyes that you often got lost in.

But…she’s not yours anymore. Not at all.

There was a flicker of something���recognition, surprise, something deeper—crosses her face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a carefully neutral expression.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out at first. Then…

“Hey.”

It’s awkward. Too awkward. You can feel the tension hanging between you, thick and suffocating.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “Hey.”

For a split second, she looks like she wants to say something else. Like she wants to break the script, ignore the rehearsed greetings and practiced smiles.

But then—

She doesn’t.

Instead, she picks up her pen, the mask slipping back into place. Her expression evens out, and in a voice so perfectly professional it almost stings, she says,

“Thanks for coming.”

Just like she would to any other fan. That made your stomach twists.

You should’ve known. Of course, she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Would’ve been a waste of money if I didn’t.”

Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. She presses her lips together, nodding slightly. “Right. Can’t have that.”

She signs her name, her handwriting as neat and practiced as always. But there’s a hesitance in the way she moves, a slight delay before she lifts the pen from the page.

When she finally pushes the album back toward you, her fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

Then, in a voice so quiet that only you can hear…

“Take care, okay?”

She’s looking at you now. Really looking at you.

And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, she’s not the Jang Wonyoung, the IT girl, the global superstar.

She’s just…Wonyoung.

The girl who used to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

The girl who used to lace her fingers through yours under the table when no one was looking.

The girl who told you she didn’t have time for you anymore.

You stare at her.

The words stick to your throat. You genuinely don’t trust yourself to say anything.

So you just…don’t.

You just take the album, stand up, and walk away. And even as you disappear into the crowd, you can still feel her eyes on you.

-

You’ve been doing fine.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

It’s been a few days since the fan sign, and you’ve buried yourself in anything that keeps your mind occupied—work, games, mindless scrolling through your phone. Anything to keep yourself from replaying the look on Wonyoung’s face at the fansign. From remembering the way she hesitated before handing your album back. From thinking about the way her gaze kept flickering toward you as you walk away, as if she was looking for something.

Or someone.

But that’s not your problem anymore. You told yourself that the moment you left the venue.

Which is why, when your phone starts ringing at an ungodly hour, you almost don’t check the caller ID. Almost.

The second you see her name flashing on the screen, your stomach twists.

Jang Wonyoung.

The ringing continues, each second stretching unbearably. You should let it go. Turn off your phone. Pretend you never saw it.

But you don’t. Because deep down, you know you still want to hear her voice. So you answer.

“...Hello?”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a soft giggle—breathy and drawn out, the kind that used to slip past her lips whenever she was feeling particularly affectionate.

"Dummmyy!" she hums, stretching your nickname like it’s some sweet, familiar melody.

“Wonyo. Are you drunk?” You sigh, ignoring the way your nickname for her easily rolled out of your tongue.

She giggles again, the sound loose and unguarded. "Mmm… maybe."

"Goddamn it." You rub your temples. "Where are you?"

A rustling noise filters through the receiver, followed by the distant hum of traffic. "Somewhere," she mumbles. "Some bar, I think. The girls took me out."

Figures.

You shift in bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. “It’s late.”

“I know,” she says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But I wanted to call you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, there’s a soft exhale, the kind she lets out when she’s gathering her thoughts. Then, quieter…

“Because I miss you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone.

"Don’t do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don’t mean."

Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is steadier. "But I do mean it. I do miss you."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. "Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?"

She goes quiet.

For a moment, all you hear is the faint sound of music in the background, the distant chatter of people. She’s probably in the back of some high-end bar or a private lounge that someone of her status often went. You can picture it too easily—her long hair falling over her shoulders, her lips painted red, the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Your heart beat rapidly at the image.

"You came to the fansign," she says suddenly, cutting into your thoughts.

You rub at your temple. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"You already know why."

"Say it anyway."

You sigh. "Because I had the tickets. It would’ve been a waste."

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Right. Can’t have that."

Something about the way she repeats your words from that day makes your stomach twist.

There’s another long pause. Then, almost hesitantly.

"Did you feel anything?"

Your eyes widened. "Feel what?"

"When you saw me again." Her voice is quieter now. "Did you feel anything?"

Your jaw clenches. You want to lie. Want to say no, not at all. That it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But you can’t.

Because the truth is, you felt everything.

The way your heart clenched when she looked at you. The way your stomach twisted when her fingers hesitated over your name. The way your mind screamed at you to move on, to stop letting her affect you, to stop caring.

But you don’t tell her any of that.

Instead, you settle for, "Who cares anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because we’re done, Jang Wonyoung."

She sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second, you wonder if she’s about to cry.

"You-" She stops, swallows. When she speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You didn’t even try to fight for me."

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. "You were the one who ended things. On the phone, may I remind you."

"I know," she whispers. "And I thought it was the right choice. But now I just—" She breaks off, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know anymore."

You shut your eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. To tell her that you don’t know either, that you still think about her, that you still wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But what’s the point?

She made her choice.

And you’re tired of being the one left picking up the pieces.

"You’re drunk, Jang Wonyoung," you say, voice carefully even. "Go home and go to sleep."

"Wait—"

"Goodnight."

And then, before she can say another word, you hang up.

The silence that follows is deafening.

And yet, for the first time in days, you finally let yourself breathe.

-

Or at least, it should be.

You did the right thing, you tell yourself—cut it off before it could spiral any further. Before you let yourself believe, even for a second, that anything has changed.

But still, the weight in your chest lingers.

The room feels too quiet now, the kind of silence that presses in from all sides, making it impossible to ignore the thoughts creeping into your head. You lie back down, throwing an arm over your eyes, willing yourself to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes before you hear it.

A knock.

You freeze.

At first, you think you’re imagining it. Sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and still reeling from that damn phone call, your brain must be conjuring things that aren’t real. But then, the knocking got more insistent. Erratic, yet insistent.

Your brows furrow. You sit up, straining your ears.

"Who the hell…?"

It’s almost 3 AM. No one in their right mind would be visiting you at this hour. Then again, you just got a call from a drunk girl not in their right mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s louder this time, clumsy and uncoordinated, like whoever’s on the other side can barely keep their balance. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach.

You begrudingly throw off your blankets and push yourself up, padding toward the door. Your hand hovers over the handle for a second before you sigh and pull it open.

And there she is.

Wonyoung.

She’s standing there in the dim, flickering hallway light, wrapped in a thin coat that does nothing to protect her from the cold. Her long hair is slightly tousled, the glossy perfection from the concert gone, strands falling loosely over her shoulders. She sways just the slightest, a delicate wobble on unsteady feet. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes glassy—not just from the alcohol but from something else. Something unreadable.

You blink.

She blinks back, like she’s just now processing that you’re standing in front of her.

Then, with absolutely no warning, she wobbles forward, collapsing against your chest.

You barely manage to catch her. “Jesus—Wonyo.” You gently hold her arms, steadying her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

"Surprise," she breathes, half-laughing, half-sniffling.

You let out a sharp breath. “Surprise? You’re seriously—” You stop yourself, jaw clenching. “How did you even get here?”

"I took a taxi," she announces, like that explains anything. Like that justifies her showing up at your door past midnight after breaking up with you.

You stare at her. “Alone?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your stomach twists. “Wonyoung, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

She just hums, leaning more of her weight onto you. Her forehead presses against your shoulder, and you can feel the slight tremble in her body.

You sigh, tightening your grip. “You’re freezing.”

“I was walking.”

“Walking where?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head back to look at you properly. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something—something serious, something she’s probably been holding in for too long. But then, she hiccups.

You close your eyes, exhaling sharply through your nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

She smiles lazily, like she didn’t just show up at your door dead drunk in the middle of the night after breaking up with you.

"You hung up on me," she murmurs.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her properly. “Yeah. I did.”

"That was mean," she says, pouting. "I was talking."

"You were drunk."

"Still talking."

You shake your head, adjusting your grip on her. “Come on. You need water. And sleep.”

She hums, letting you guide her inside. “Only if you let me stay.”

You pause.

For a brief second, something in her voice sounds painfully sober.

But then she giggles again, burying her face in your chest, and you decide that you’ll deal with that in the morning.

For now, you just hold her close.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shift your grip on her. She’s barely standing at this point, practically melting into you like she has no bones in her body.

"Alright, come on," you mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside.

She stumbles slightly, her fingers gripping at your shirt as she giggles under her breath. "You smell nice," she mumbles.

You ignore that.

You close the door behind you with your foot, guiding her toward the couch. She flops onto it with zero resistance, her coat slipping off her shoulders. The moment she’s down, she tilts her head back, blinking up at you like she’s expecting something.

She doesn’t hesitate. Stumble inside like she belongs here.

And maybe that’s the problem. She did belong here.

And now? Now you don’t know.

Her eyes lazily drift across the apartment, lingering on the things she still remembers—the half-empty cup of coffee on your desk, the hoodie she used to steal draped over the chair, the faint indent in the couch where she used to curl up next to you.

Then she noticed your desk, the same desk where the fansign ticket sat just days ago. The same one she saw in your hands at the fansign days ago.

"You really came," she murmurs, not looking at you. "I didn’t think you actually would."

You shrug. "Like I said. Would’ve been a waste."

She flinches. Just the tiniest bit. But you catch it.

She exhales slowly, arms wrapping around herself. "It was weird."

"What was?"

"Seeing you there. But not... There, you know?" She fully looks at you now, and there's something raw in her expression. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. "You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease me like you usually do. You barely even looked at me."

"What did you expect?" you ask quietly. "You dumped me, Wonyoung. You can’t just expect me to act like nothing happened."

She presses her lips together, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve. "I know."

You wait. Give her the space to say what she came here to say.

But she doesn’t. Not right away.

She defeatedly sighed, tucking her knees under her chin, looking smaller than she ever has before. She stares at her hands for a long moment before mumbling, "I don’t know why I came here."

You scoff. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you drunk-called your ex, then showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night without a plan."

She frowns. "I do have a plan."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She huffs. "Step one: get inside. Step two..." She falters, looking away. "...I didn’t think that far."

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

Silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken.

Then, barely above a whisper, "Do you hate me?"

You freeze.

Your first instinct is to say no. Because of course you don’t hate her. You never could.

But that’s not the right answer, is it?

So instead, you tell the truth.

"I don’t know," you admit. "I want to. But I can't."

She looks up at you then, eyes searching. Hopeful and afraid all at once. "I messed up, didn’t I?"

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yea. Big time."

She swallows. Lowers her gaze again. "I thought breaking up would make things easier. For you…for both of us."

"Did it?"

She shakes her head. "No."

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling. "Then why did you do it?"

"I was scared," she says, and her voice is so small, so unlike the confident idol the world knows, that it almost hurts to hear. "I thought I was being selfish, holding onto you when I barely had time to see you. I thought you deserved more than stolen moments and rushed phone calls."

Your jaw clenches. "You didn’t even ask me what I wanted."

"I know," she whispers. "I thought I was making the right choice."

You sit down across from her, legs spread, elbows on your knees. "And now?"

She meets your gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Now... I just miss you."

Your heart leaped a mile. This was the Wonyoung you always see. Not the glamorous and model-esque Jang Wonyoung everyone always see on TV. Not the well-spoken and powerful public figure everyone knows. Just…a gentle yet bubbly girl who snuggled up next to you on the couch at the end of the day.

But your brain should tell her to leave. To sleep it off, to sober up and think about this when her mind is clearer.

Then she reaches out—just the slightest, her fingers brushing against yours on the couch. And you don’t pull away.

"You’re drunk," you remind her, though your voice lacks conviction.

She smiles faintly. "Thanks…Mr. Obvious."

Silence. Then, tentatively, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Another hesitation.

But just like before, you already know your answer.

You sigh. Your hand intertwined with hers.

"Go get a blanket. Wonyo."

She doesn’t move right away. Just watches you, like she’s memorizing you all over again.

Then, with a small, almost relieved nod, she gets up and stumbled into your bedroom as she dragged you along—the same bedroom she used to slip into after long schedules, the same one she used to call hers.

And just like that, the distance you tried so hard to create crumbles.

Again.

[ldydeath]

My Heaven | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: Jiyong wants to marry you.  Warnings: None. Author’s Note: This is short sappy fluffy fic in honor of Valentine's Day.

Today was your five year anniversary and Jiyong wanted to make today as special as possible. It was no secret that the man was crazy about you, he only told you every chance he got. Which is why tonight at dinner, he was going to propose to you. Jiyong had been talking about marriage for a long time now, bringing it up in interviews. Tonight had to be perfect. Jiyong didn’t know what he’d do if you said no. He wasn’t going to think about that right now, he had too many other things to prepare than to think about the worst case scenario. 

You had been given very clear instructions to pamper yourself that day, mani, pedi, buy a new outfit, all at his expense and then meet Jiyong at the restaurant for dinner. You weren't stupid, or at least you hoped you weren’t. Men didn’t usually drop such large hints when they were about to propose but Jiyong couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Not that he’d said anything, but he was good about dropping the biggest, most obvious hints. You’d had butterflies in your stomach all day as you pampered yourself for your big date. There was nobody else in the world for you and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with your soulmate. 

“Hi you.” You grinned at your boyfriend as you walked into the restaurant. You took note that it wasn’t the fanciest place you’d imagined but you trusted Jiyong, whatever his vision was you knew you’d see it soo. “Hi.” He grinned, standing up to greet you with a kiss.

He was nervous, something he’d never been good at hiding but you hoped you could reassure him throughout the night that you knew and it was an easy yes. He had to know this was all you’d ever wanted, since the first day you’d met him. He was special, he was amazing, he was yours. Who wouldn’t want to be with him for the rest of their life? 

“How was your day?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the question, and he raised a brow in response. You shook your head taking a sip of your wine. “It was good, how was yours?” He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. “It was good.” 

As you two ate, he continued to tease you, asking questions and watching your disappointed reactions every time. This was definitely more fun than leaving hints around the house for you. Not that he didn’t have more tricks up his sleeve, because of course he did. He cleared his throat as he finished eating and leaned over the table, a card dangling from his fingers. You eyed it suspiciously before taking it from his fingers. 

“What’s this?” You looked up at him before eying the card again trying to make sense of the address on it. “Meet me there in twenty minutes.” His eyes scanned your body, before he tilted his head to look down at your shoes. “Might want to change those.” He stood up, adjusted his coat and walked over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll see you soon. Dinner’s already paid for.” He winked at you before walking out of the restaurant. 

What the fuck? This man was going to drive you insane but you couldn’t help the grin from spreading across your face. The address he’d given you was to one of your favorite spots in town and you couldn’t wait to get there. You had time though, it was an easy five minute drive to the location and you didn’t want to arrive early. He too needed to be kept guessing. 

You pulled up at the park and made your way through the entrance, not sure where to go when you spotted a faint glow off in the distance. Your stomach was currently doing summersaults, why were you nervous? It was only the moment you’d been waiting for for nearly five years. Spotting Jiyong standing in the middle of the courtyard you smiled as you made your way to him. 

He’d lined up the circle with roses and twinkling lights, making it look like a scene straight out of a fairy tale. Which it was, every day with Jiyong had been a fairy tale. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him. His face lit up and he grinned at you.

“Took you long enough.” You rolled your eyes as you stopped in front of him. 

“Had to change my shoes, remember?” He smirked at your comment, pleased that his trick had worked. "What's all this?" You knew the answer, but you needed him to say it.

Grabbing your hands in his, you offered him a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes stayed locked on his, trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Which was getting difficult with the way he was looking at you. He always looked at you like you were the only person on the planet but this was different, somehow. More intense, more love than you’d ever remembered seeing. 

“You are by far the best thing to ever happen to my life. I knew when I met you that you were different, I wasn’t prepared for how you were going to come in and flip everything upside down. Everyday's an adventure with you, I genuinely have no idea what’s going on in that brain of yours or what you’ve got planned for us and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He paused, pulling a box out of his pocket, your breath catching in your throat as he smirked at you before kneeling down on one knee. “I had so many things prepared to say to you but I’m afraid if I don’t ask you now I’ll chicken out. I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me, will you marry me?” 

You stood there for a minute trying to get the words to come out, all you wanted to do was yell yes a thousand times but you couldn’t get the words to come out. You nodded your head frantically and Jiyong grinned at you as he moved to slide the ring on your finger. 

“Yes, yes…a million times yes.” You cried as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. He laughed before covering your lips with his. “Oh my god, I’m going to be Mrs. Dragon” you squealed as you pulled away, bringing your hand up to your face to examine the ring. Not that you cared at all about the design, you only cared about the man it belonged to.

Jiyong laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you back through the park. “Maybe we should try Kwon.” He teased and you shook your head. You’d tell him some other time that you would be requesting all your friends to call you Mrs. Dragon from here on out. He was the one that said he liked you keeping him guessing anyway. 

“I love you.” He sighed into your hair as he planted a kiss on your forehead, opening your car door in one swift moment. God, he was so hot when he oozed this natural confidence.  “I love you too, Mr. Dragon.” You leaned up pecking his lips and he rolled his eyes as you slid into your car. 

He had the rest of his life to argue with you about names. If you wanted to be Mrs. Dragon, he’d call you that, whatever you wanted. He was going to spend the rest of his life spoiling you. 

tag list: @wcnderlnds, @alosss-blog@sooyasya@dprvivi@infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren

[jellymochii]

Stray Kids - Valentine's Day Headcanons

ᡣ𐭩 pairings: OT8 SKZ x fem!Reader

ᡣ𐭩 genre: fluff, smut

ᡣ𐭩 wc: 1.5k

ᡣ𐭩 cw: smut, dacryphilia, oral, mentions of bondage/d!ldos, dry humping, unprotected s3x (pls don't unless you want STD's for Valentine's Day)

↪author's note: hello! sorry I've been gone so long and not finished my NingNing fic, but to make it up to you I've whipped this up. happy Valentine's Day and hope you enjoy!

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

ᡣ𐭩Chan

His dad always taught him to be a classy man–and so he's gonna make sure you're well taken care of for such a special day.

He bought you that long red dress you've been eyeballing for a while and adorned you with shiny pearled jewelry. (And a giant bouquet of flowers)

He takes you to the most high end restaurant in the city (which took 6 months reservation in advance) with a staff member dressed all nice like a chauffeur.

Expensive steaks, lobster tail, or even chicken nuggets. Whatever you want, he'll get you.

Lots of food in your belly to prepare for…y'know, the baby he's about to put in you.

What, like he wasn't gonna fill you to the brim with cum after you looked this good for him?

It's almost as if he knew that you were planning on skipping your birth control that day in the hopes you'd finally get to be filled.

Oh and you're up for hours, he's not stopping until your poor cunt is leaking with all his babies, and he'll get a few more loads in just to make sure it stays put in your cervix.

“C'mon baby, you don't want anything leaking out d'ya? Right, now stay still and let daddy give you that baby you wanted~.”

There's nothing more romantic to both of you than being given a cute little symbol of your love in 9 months.

ᡣ𐭩Minho

The bad news is that he did not, infact, get the day off work. There's lots of love he has to send to STAY before he can get home to you.

The good news is that now that Idol Minho is off work, Chef Minho has arrived!

He always keeps your favorite dish in the back of his mind and he knows you've been begging him to make it these past few weeks, but he wanted to save it today to make it extra special.

You'll smell it from a mile away, but as soon as you walk in the dining table is lit with candles and a big flower centerpiece to top it off.

Looks at you with so much love as you absolutely devour your plate like a wild tiger.

Speaking of absolutely devouring

Normally you and Minho have a strict dom/sub relationship with him asserting and taking control.

But today he just wants to show you that despite all the harsh punishments he has to give you, you're still the love of his life.

And that includes devouring your cunt for hours.

“Mmmh, my precious little pussy. You're this wet just for me?”

ᡣ𐭩Changbin

CRUISE TIME BABYYYYY

No but fr he wasn't sure what to do and even asked Chaeryeong what kind of stuff girls like.

Eventually he settled on taking the week off and spending time with you by the seaside, providing both a relaxing and loving vacation.

You two get to explore some cute islands and eat feasts of chocolate alongside a paradise of other loving couples.

And sometimes you'll spend alone time too! He'll work out at the cruise gym while you relax by the poolside soaking up the island sun.

Oh and it's a good thing it's a honeymoon cruise (even if you two aren't married)

God bless whoever decided to make all the rooms on the ship soundproof because you're definitely gonna need it while he's rearranging your guts.

But let's be honest, the whole ship can still hear your strangled moans and the plap plap plap sounds coming from your room.

“Anngh, yeobo, you're so tight, I love this pussy.”

At least you can tell your kids they were created by the sea.

ᡣ𐭩Hyunjin

You can expect nothing but the sweetest from your lover boy.

He had Versace create a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers in a beautiful signature gold wrap.

His first thought on a date was doing the painting swap challenge from tiktok and seeing what the two of you could create.

There's paint on both of your noses by the end and kkami with an accidental blue spot on his fur from the crossfire of your paint war.

He tried to salvage your original drawing to no avail, but he still insists that he thinks it's perfect because it came from you.

His next surprise was a custom mold of his cock for you to play with whenever he was away on tour, but he insists on trying it on you first for “Quality Assurance” as he calls it.

It feels almost exactly like the real thing and reaches into your favorite spots exactly like his.

With his new ability to use the dildo AND his mouth simultaneously, you cum so many times that you're brain dead.

“You're so gorgeous, my angel. You look so pretty cumming on my cock–God, I love you so much.”

And he may have snapped a few photos of you like this to help him when he's not there next to you.

ᡣ𐭩Han

Have you ever dreamed of having a whole mixtape/album come out all about you?

Cause Jisung's got you covered

He'll have a whole listening party with some of his friends as you sit there trying not to cry from how sweet he is.

You can't stop kissing him and adoring him the rest of the night, it's like your wildest dreams have come true.

How could you not reward such a good boy?

Oh you both are getting the NASTIEST sex tonight.

Dildos, cuffs, chains–every toy gets brought in out of desperation.

You're both just so desperate to fuck eachother before you even leave that he's pressed up against you on the subway humping your ass like a dog.

“Mmmph, please! I-I need more!.”

You're in for a long night of multiple orgasms from both of you.

ᡣ𐭩Felix

You've been eyeballing the amusement park 2 towns over for a while now, and what better time to take you than now?

The illuminating fair lights turned pink for the special day makes you both giddy.

The first stop is obviously the Rollercoaster, you're having the time of your life while Felix is fighting off demons trying not to pass out.

Then you'll get to go on the new pink ferris wheel and give your lover a kiss at the top.

Alongside buying you all the fair food you can eat, he spots a pair of gold rings from a vendor that he just HAS to buy you.

After coming back from buying them and watching you struggle on the shooting game for a giant teddy bear, he steps in and uses his gamer experience to win it for you!

And he's gonna make you hump it for him as soon as you get home.

Don't worry, he'll fuck you eventually, but watching you desperately get off on the fluffy fabric while staring at him with teary puppy eyes makes his dick throb.

“Fuck you look so sexy like that. Keep going so I can cum on your pretty face, mkay?”

ᡣ𐭩Seungmin

Since your first date was at the vintage arcade down the street, he decided to bring you right back to where it all started.

Life's been a total dream since you two started dating, but you're reminded in times like these why he's such a tease.

He'll never let you forget how much better he is at video games than you are, especially Guitar Hero and the OG Sonic.

You're also getting your ass whooped at Dance Dance Revolution too.

He'll let you win at 1 or 2 games though just so you don't pout at him later.

You know what his favorite game is though?

Edging you, duh.

You swear you have no idea where he learned to use his fingers so skillfully. He's throat deep in your pussy while his fingers twist your nipples to perfection.

“Why are you squirming away? I thought you loved it when I broke you down jagi.”

And you do, there's no better gift you could've gotten today than being nothing more than a brain dead fuckdoll for your sweet boyfriend.

ᡣ𐭩Jeongin

You guys are still fairly new to your relationship and it's your first Valentine's Day.

So he wants to make it as perfect as possible. He asks Chris and the rest of the boys what kind of stuff he should do for you and tries to pack it all together in one night.

Unfortunately for him the place he wanted to take you caught on fire, the flowers got delivered to the wrong address, and the ring he ordered you was smaller than what he wanted.

The poor boy can't even look you in the eye as he’s telling you all of this, but you reassure him that none of the material stuff matters–as long as he’s by your side.

The two of you settle for takeout and a movie at your place with lots of cuddles and kisses.

There was still a chance for him to have one thing he planned go his way though.

While the two of you have dealt in the occasional oral/fingering, he wanted to overcome his fear of intimacy and actually have sex with you.

Thankfully all his wildest dreams came true the moment he slipped into you and was immediately sent straight into Heaven.

“F-fuuuuck, you’re everything–so beautiful, perfect and tight.”

Even if Valentine's Day didn't go the way he originally wanted, he wouldn't ask for anything else–bring inside of you and feeling your love was all he needed.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Anniversary

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Notes: Sorry, only a very short oneshot. All I got for Valentine’s Day was the flu 😅. I’m still out in left field somewhere mentally. But I had to at least try and post something for our man, or else the cosmic scales would fall further out of balance over here.

Pirate!Reader/GN!Reader x Doflamingo, NSFW, unprotected sex, ejaculation, very minimally proofread

Fic Masterlist

—————————

“So you’re telling me that the kingdom of love and passion doesn’t even have a specific holiday for romance?” It was amazing you could speak at all right now to ask. But you didn’t get to see him often. Multitasking was just part of both your busy lives.

“If you needed a special day just to remember this, then that would be pitiful, now wouldn’t it?” He grunted with some humor in response, shoving you down into the mattress yet again as his hips kept rocking.

The moonlight was flooding into your captain’s quarters through the portholes. Your crew hopefully none the wiser while the both of you got this very welcome fix, and that tell tale smell of sweat and lust filled the space.

Anytime your ship was near enough to his island in your raiding routes through the New World, Doflamingo would know. And he would come. Flying through the night to land on your deck and prowl below to claim what you still so freely gave him.

How many other of his so called “allies” that he did this with, you had no idea. But you could always pretend you were somehow special as he massaged those powerful hands around your hips and thighs. 

The delusion was enticing enough as you contracted around that penetrating cock with another stifled moan.

“Yes…such a good pet.” He breathed with that tightness.

You could hear the unevenness growing in his dark voice too. And it only made your stomach tense even more with the brief praise.

He would alternate from absolute pounding to a more hypnotic rhythm that left you defenseless. So deep, so stretched, no one could ever compare to the things this man could do with your body.

The only man you wanted this from at all these days.

And maybe he already understood that. There were strange hints here or there. Like in the way his fingers sometimes loosened their grip again. The way he’d wipe your sweat or overwhelmed tears away before they could interfere with your desperate eyes he liked to stare down into whenever he pulled out to flip you back over.

“You want me to stay tonight. Don’t you, dear?” Those white teeth bared shamelessly. But his expression wasn’t the threat it might be to his enemies. Not with him still pumping his hips so purposefully as he plunged back inside you and your back arched in the next wave of euphoria.

You amused him so much. He enjoyed this game each and every time.

“Please…yes, just until morning.” That would only be a few hours from now. “I know it’s a lot to ask…please…” You never minded begging him.

“How very needy. I have an empire to run you know…” He angled himself, changing the feel so quickly.

You cursed and he laughed as your fingernails scraped deeper along his back. The vibration of his voice’s sound like music, frightening but further addictive

“Silly little animal…clawing and hoping. Always wanting more…” He chided without ever stopping. 

He never stopped until he’d filled you to the point of dripping. The mess of him running down your ass before his weight collapsed on top of you in all his post orgasm panting and grinning.

His legs were too long to even fit on your bed if he’d fully stretched out. But he never did that either.

Doflamingo curled around you as he pulled you onto your side without ever removing his now softening cock. 

“You only get until sunrise. I have other places to be tomorrow.” He managed to somehow still sound haughty even with beads of sweat glistening that broad chest.

But you were just soaking this in, no complaint at all while he held you. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

Maybe one day he’d let you call him Doffy. Yet you were pressing your luck far enough already. You couldn’t ask for more as he pulled your blanket over the two of you once the surges in body heat had finally quelled. The king of Dressrosa warmed your bed all the way until dawn on your pirate ship.

——————————

Admittedly you’d been happy enough in all of that for days too. Your good mood had carried well over into the next week. Though it had finally tried to falter when after stopping in the next port, your crew had been giving you the oddest looks when you’d come walking back aboard after fencing much of your stolen cargo in town.

They were too nervous to tell you something.

“Some of the Donquixote soldiers paid us a visit while you were away.” One of them finally confessed.

And you’d had to steel your expression, concealing the momentary panic that ran through you.

Because had you done something wrong after all? Had you gotten too comfortable in this very unbalanced working relationship?

But your crew would tell you nothing more. As if they’d been ordered not to when they only awkwardly said for you to check your quarters next.

Your legs felt weaker even as you’d walked so fast to go below deck and face whatever this would be.

Once someone fell out of favor with Doflamingo, any punishment was possible, any horror that man may imagine for his newest victim.

You’d thrown the door to your captain’s quarters open expecting the worst.

And then you’d stood there, briefly unsure if you were hallucinating as you could barely even see the floor.

Vases and bouquets littered the small room as if a field had blossomed in just the few hours you’d been away. The floral scent was like a slap to the face as your eyes moved from one color to the next.

Roses, lilies, orchids, tulips, and more. Every color, every height.

You’d had to walk so carefully just to navigate between them in your astonishment. Towards the largest vase of all that held cut down sunflowers.

A bright pink vase with a large envelope emblazoned with a struck through smiley face.

Your hands might even have been trembling a little as you’d ripped that envelope open to retrieve the letter within.

The handwriting was done with such flourish and purpose as you read it quickly.

“As I said, dear, I don’t believe in limiting myself to a single day to show my appreciation or desire.

But it appears you are starting to think differently on these things. And if my pretty pet seeks such superficial validation, then at least have the decency of choosing a more meaningful day to do it. 

Holidays like you spoke of began solely for the unwashed masses. But I’m wounded you seem to have also forgotten what day it will be for us by the time you are reading this.

The anniversary of the agreement of our two crews to first ally and your inevitable subjugation to me that followed. 

I didn’t know your favorite color or favorite flower. This small variety will have to suffice for now. On your next pass near Dressrosa I expect you to make this up to me.

Do not keep me waiting.

Happy anniversary until then.

-Doffy”

Your bed was about the only thing not covered in flowers as you sat down hard upon it.

You now had an anniversary.

And it was the day you’d first placed your life into a pirate alliance with a man who could destroy you all with only a flick of his fingers.

But this was him choosing to do otherwise.

This was him saying he did want more.

He wanted more of you.

Your navigator looked at you like you were a wild thing recently broken free from a cage as you’d come back onto the deck in a rush with that letter still clutched in your hand.

“How many nights until we could make it to Dressrosa?” You’d asked even if you were still smart enough to know the cost.

Your brain knew at least.

It was your heart that was now a whole other matter.

——————————

End.

Thank you for reading! 💘🦩💌

[dijayeah]

"Yours truly: a special grade valentine with a special grade D" //

🔞 NSFW CONTENT MDNI 🔞 💥 Title: Yours truly: a special grade valentine with a special grade D💥 Word Count: 9.1k 💥 Synopsis: A cozy Valentine’s getaway with Suguru Geto turns into a full-body workout you didn’t sign up for—all thanks to one very smug special-grade sorcerer who has zero chill and a mission to ruin you. Between teasing, overstimulation, and the kind of fireworks that leave you questioning your life choices, this night will definitely go down in history (and so will you—literally). 💥 Contains:→ Fem!reader x Geto Suguru → Smut | PWP | Filthy Filthy Smut → Free Use Kink (Consensual) → Teasing & Edging → Size Kink | Choking | Degradation-Praise Mix → Overstimulation | Biting & Marking → Multiple Orgasms | Rough Sex → Suguru Being a Menace™ → You Won’t Be Walking Tomorrow™ 💥 Read on AO3! 💥 Reblog & Follow for More Degeneracy!

dividers by: @/cafekitsune fic by: @dijayeah

In the heart of Niigata, as the city basked in the crisp air of mid-February, you and Suguru found warmth in a cozy café near the still waters of the Shinano River. The café, with its soft lighting and inviting aroma of coffee and freshly baked sweets, was a quiet refuge from the cold outside—a perfect place to steal a moment away from the world on Valentine's Day.

Settled into a corner table, you glanced outside at the river, the scenery still beautiful even without the thick December snow. Suguru, his long hair tied up into a loose half-bun, watched you more than the view, his amber eyes reflecting the golden glow of the café’s lights. He seemed content just to sit there with you, soaking in the atmosphere.

"I still don’t understand why Niigata of all places," you mused, exhaling softly against the window and drawing a small shape in the fogged-up glass. "I mean, it’s a beautiful city, but when you said you had a surprise, I didn’t expect… well, this."

Suguru chuckled, his gaze shifting from the window to you. "Think of it as a getaway, just for the two of us," he said, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "Niigata is underrated, but it has so much to offer. I wanted somewhere we could escape to, without the crowds, without any distractions. Just us."

Your heart gave a little flutter at that. You knew how rare it was for Suguru to take time away from everything, so the fact that he planned something this thoughtful made warmth spread through your chest, despite the winter chill lingering outside.

Before you could respond, your drinks arrived—a fragrant matcha latte for you and a strong black Americano for Suguru, paired with an assortment of seasonal pastries decorated with fresh strawberries, Niigata’s famous specialty. The vibrant red of the fruit against the soft pastel tones of the cakes made for a picturesque spread, fitting for the holiday.

Suguru wrapped his hands around his cup, relishing its warmth. "Now, where were we? Ah, right—the surprise factor of our little trip. You said you didn’t expect this, but that’s kind of the point. I wanted something different from the usual Valentine’s plans. Niigata is known for its strawberries, sure, but also for its winter festivals, hot springs, and—"

"Let me guess," you interrupted playfully, picking up a strawberry and popping it into your mouth. "You booked a place with a view?"

Suguru’s lips curled into a smile, his amusement obvious. "You know me too well. A cabin near Lake Nojiri, with a perfect view of the sunset." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into that smooth, knowing tone. "Romantic, isn’t it?"

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you took a sip of your latte. "You really thought this through, huh?"

"Of course I did," he replied, looking pleased with himself. "I wanted this to be memorable, and after doing my research, Niigata seemed like the perfect place. Peaceful, beautiful, and perfect for spending time with you."

His words sent a pleasant warmth through you, something sweeter than the pastries on the table. There was something about the way Suguru loved—quiet but thoughtful, intentional yet effortless. He wasn’t one for grand, flashy gestures, but moments like this, the little things, always spoke louder than anything else.

You glanced at the clock and sighed contentedly. "Alright, fine. You win. But I’m definitely going to be a passenger princess again, because there’s no way you woke me up at 4 AM just to make me drive part of the way here."

Suguru laughed, the sound deep and warm, before reaching across the table to gently poke your forehead. "You’re always my passenger princess. And sorry about the early wake-up call, but I wanted us to have as much time together as possible."

You rolled your eyes fondly but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, alright. I’ll forgive you. But only because it’s Valentine’s Day."

Suguru smirked, taking another sip of his coffee before giving your hand a squeeze. "Then let’s make the most of it."

Continuing on from your cozy café encounter, you and Suguru bundled up in your winter attire, ready to leave the warm space behind. As you stepped out, the cold February air greeted you once more, bringing in a rather sharp contrast to the café's warmth. The Shinano River, partially frozen, glinted in the morning sun, its banks lined with snow that sparkled like millions of tiny diamonds.

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft crunch of snow under your feet the only sound. You slipped your arm through Suguru's as you walked, leaning slightly into his warmth as he looked down at you with a gentle smile.

"You know, now that the fog cleared up, I can understand why you wanted to come here," you mused, your breath visible in the cold air as you spoke.

Suguru leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, his eyes reflecting the serene landscape.

"This area genuinely is lovely," he agreed, continuing to gaze at you with a tender look as you walked. "Even without the winter firework festival, the scenery alone is enough to warrant a visit. The river, the snow-laden mountains, and the way the sunlight reflects off the water is nothing short of breathtaking."

After a brief walk, you reached the place where Suguru had parked his car, the vehicle looking almost out of place in the picturesque, snowy setting. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you inside before walking around to the driver's side.

As you settled in and Suguru turned on the navigation, setting up a slightly longer but scenic route toward your destination, the car's heater began to dispel the chill. He pulled out onto the road, the car's tires crunching over the freshly snow-packed street.

"The drive to Lake Nojiri should offer some beautiful views," Suguru said, glancing at you with a hint of excitement. "The mountains this time of year are something else."

You nodded, your eyes on the passing scenery as you slowly left the city. "I can't wait. Though, I'm equally excited about the cabin. A view of the lake, you said?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "It's secluded, peaceful. Perfect for watching the sunset... and maybe the sunrise too, if we're up early enough tomorrow that is." He turned around to wink at you with a smug smile. "And if we're not," he added a moment later, his voice becoming slightly more playful, "I have other plans for the early morning hours that you should definitely look forward to."

"I’m afraid I have too well of an idea of what other plans you might have in mind." You rolled your eyes, then laughed softly, your cheekbones slightly tinted in red as you connected your phone to the car’s audio system, putting on some music for the background noise.

Suguru chuckled as you put on some music to seemingly distract him, a hint of flirtatious playfulness coming through the gentle smile he usually wore and the playful banter that was the norm for your relationship. "Of course you do," he teased, turning back to the road, "I'm not subtle at all with you," he then added, his cinnamon-colored eyes glancing at you, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes, yes, a sugar daddy needs his sugar with a holiday tax on top." You teased back, humming along to the lyrics absentmindedly.

"Oooh, a cheeky one today, aren’t you?" The sorcerer said, shaking his head in humor as if you weren’t adorable and completely justified in your sass. "Well, I guess to some extent I am just spoiling you, as always. A scenic car drive, a private cabin, a romantic getaway for Valentine’s Day? What more can a girl want?"

"A dick, usually." You jested, winking at your boyfriend.

Suguru snorted in amusement and couldn't help but grin as you went there with the reply. "Well, guess what you're getting too," he said, looking at you with a sly, amused expression and a slight edge of teasing in his tone. "Should I pack it in a box for you like a present on my crotch?"

"Oh, absolutely you should, I like my gifts wrapped nicely." You emphasized as you put on ‘The Dick In A Box’ by The Lonely Island with a few taps on your phone.

The special-grade sorcerer immediately burst out laughing at your request and your choice of song, smiling widely as he looked over to you with a certain sparkle in his eyes, enjoying your wit and humor. "Perfect song choice. That said, I'll make sure it's the very prettiest wrapping paper for you," he replied, then snickered again at your exchange and the casual use of puns, his eyes on the road as the car continued its journey to the cabin. "I have to show off my brilliant wrapping skills after all. Would you like a red bow on top?"

"Can’t say no to such a brilliant suggestion." You hummed, your eyes teary from laughing a little too much as the song played in the background, low enough for you to be able to have an intimate conversation.

Once the initial burst of laughter subsided, Suguru's face once again became more playful and flirtatious, his eyes on you as he leaned over and whispered against your ear briefly. "I have to warn you though, the contents of that wrapping will be explosive..."

"Well then, I hope the explosion will be hard enough." You countered, your index finger trailing the sharp line of his jaw, a coy smirk on your glossed lips as you batted your lashes at him.

The raven-haired man couldn't help but grin at your reply, his eyes flashing with a hint of playfulness and something dark as his focus shifted to the road again, steering the car down the winding road and bringing you closer to your temporary new home away from Tokyo. "Just so you know," he added, placing his warm hand on your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh that was covered in fleece-lined tights, "that explosion is only getting bigger and stronger... so prepare yourself properly, there will be some fireworks to catch at the end too."

Your eyes danced with pure amusement as you felt Suguru's warm hand sliding up your thigh, his words sending a familiar thrill of anticipation through you. You leaned closer, your voice a rasp against your boyfriend’s ear. "Well then, I guess it's a good thing I'm with a special-grade sorcerer who's also an expert in pyrotechnics. I always did have a thing for men who know their way around fireworks. Makes for quite the dazzling display." Your smirk deepened as you playfully added, "Just be sure to handle those explosives with care, we wouldn't want any premature ignitions."

"Indeed we wouldn't," Suguru responded, his voice deep and laced with husky, seductive undertones. "Those sparks are reserved for the grand finale. And you'll see, once we're back at the cabin tonight after our final outing, I've saved the biggest and most spectacular firework display just for you. It's a show that might require some effort to reach its climax, but trust me, every bit of that effort will be worth it."

You snorted at the not-so-subtle innuendo, shaking your head as you chose to let that one slide, your eyes shifting towards the scenery outside of your window on the passenger’s side.

After that, you drove in a comfortable silence, occasionally pointing out a particularly beautiful tree or a distant mountain peak to Suguru. The landscape of Niigata prefecture unfolded before you, a tapestry of snow, trees, and the occasional farmhouse or small village.

As the road became more narrow in the mountains, the scenery became even more dramatic. The trees were heavier with snow here, the air much crisper. Suguru occasionally reached over to squeeze your hand or thigh with his large warm hand whenever he didn’t need it on the wheel or the transmission.

Upon your arrival, the cabin, obscured by the weight of winter, stood as a lone sentinel against the biting chill, its wooden facade dusted with a soft, white powder like confectioner's sugar on a holiday treat. It didn’t take long before Suguru parked the car in the designated area, close to the small house next to the lake, surrounded by a mountain range.

As you walked in, you swiftly unlocked the door after finding the key based on the host’s instructions, and Suguru carried your things from the back trunk of the car inside the cabin. The interior greeted you with remnants of bygone warmth, an echo of embers in the hearth, and a lingering scent of woodsmoke that told you it wasn’t that long since someone had last occupied this place.

The few rooms inside the cozy space were quaint, a tapestry of timber and Japanese tradition with a modern twist, where each creak of the floorboard told tales of countless winters past. The view from the windows was a masterpiece painted in snow and silence; the lake, now a glassy canvas, reflected the somber dance of a few snowflakes descending from an afternoon clear sky. The mountains, austere in their winter garb, rose like ancient deities, their peaks lost to the low-hanging clouds.

In the heart of this frostbitten idyll, you and Suguru discovered a tranquility that the city of Tokyo could never afford. As you walked around, getting familiar with the place, Suguru was quick to suggest making a bonfire outside. "We should set up a bonfire, it would be a shame not to," he mused, his words a breath in the crisp air.

You joined him as you stepped out onto the back porch, where the world seemed to pause, the hush of the wind a gentle whisper to your ears as you stood close to him. “And a fireplace inside.” You noted as a matter-of-factly. “Oh, is that a hot tub?” You pointed at the round tub that had a protective layer of dark fabric above the water.

“Indeed, perhaps something we can do tomorrow, to ease sore muscles.” He winked at you as you all but scoffed at him in return, bumping his side with your hip in amusement. “Let’s go collect something to get that fire going, or else I’ll turn into an icicle.”

Together, you gathered wood that was already available in the small shack next to the cabin and gently set up the fire, though not without a little bit of a struggle. “Fucking hell, I wish I had the ability to light this up instantly.” You groaned then scoffed in distaste at your attempt when it came to lighting up a fire, your eyes narrowing at the dry logs of wood.

Suguru chuckled next to you by the fireplace, the match struck once, twice, the flame took, and soon a fire was born, crackling with life and warmth. “Well, you were the one who insisted on trying to light up the fire inside the cabin,” he reminded you in a teasing tone.

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“Right, keep telling yourself that.” He snickered as he walked back out on the porch, working on setting up the bonfire before he heard you rustling around in the kitchen back in the cabin, most likely preparing a small plate of snacks and drinks given that you made a brief visit to Lawson’s on your way here.

From where he was standing, the tall dark-haired man observed the small clearing that opened to the vast, frozen canvas of Lake Nojiri. It was here, in the late afternoon as the sun began its descent behind the snow-capped mountains, that you and Suguru ventured to set up your own little sanctuary of warmth amidst the cold.

The orange and pink gradients of the sky cast a dreamlike quality over the scene, promising a sunset that would linger in your memories, making this holiday retreat all the more special.

"Don't you think it's a bit cliché?" you teased, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth as you stepped back into the snow-covered porch area, your eyes twinkling with mirth at the sight of Suguru arranging the logs. "Two lovers, alone in the wilderness, starting a fire as the sun sets?"

Suguru flashed you a playful grin, not looking up from his task. "Cliché? Maybe. But tell me you don't love it," he said, his voice as warm as the fire he was about to kindle.

With the wood carefully stacked, he struck a match, and the small flame seemed to hold its breath against the encroaching shadows of the evening. "Besides," he said, nurturing the fledgling fire, "how else will we toast our marshmallows?"

Your laughter joined the symphony of crackles and pops from the fire. "We're in Japan, Suguru. Marshmallows aren't exactly traditional," you said with a dramatic flourish, settling into a chair beside the growing bonfire and brushing away the dusting of snow with the back of your manicured hand.

He accepted the mug of hot chocolate you offered with a gentle chuckle. "For you, I'd import a mountain of marshmallows, even if they’re commonplace around here," Suguru joked, taking a warm sip. "But for something like that… we’d have to keep it a secret from Satoru because you know he’d insist on turning our solitary retreat into a glamping adventure—and of course, he'd bring company for a double date," he continued, a mock sigh escaping him at the thought of their peaceful duet becoming a quartet with his loud best friend around. "Though, this hot chocolate," he gestured with his mug, "is indeed the perfect companion for a day like this."

The fire, now roaring with life, cast a welcoming radius of light and heat. As the sun began its majestic descent behind the distant mountains, the colors of the sky deepened, creating a backdrop of such beauty it could've been lifted from the canvas of a master painter. The two of you sat side by side, your silhouettes etched against the fiery performance of the twilight sky, while the peaceful lake before you reflected the spectacle in its icy surface.

In the comfort of the fire's glow, with the taste of sweet chocolate on your lips and the serene view before you, you found an enchanting peace, a shared solitude that only deepened as the stars began to dot the heavens above, the first sign of the moon showing too despite the sky being far from dark.

The raven-haired man held your smaller hand in his, a comfortable silence settled between you as his thumb brushed the top of your hand absentmindedly, a heavy blanket draped over your lap. The fire reflected in both of your eyes as he slowly tugged you towards him, his other hand falling over to cradle your delicate face, his hand near swallowing the side of your face as he smiled down at you, looking at your face covered in a pink hue no doubt from the cold. “You know that I love you, right?” he husked out, tone smooth and low.

“Mhm,” you smiled at him, a soft and intimate gesture only meant for Suguru. “I love you too, baby.”

The long-haired sorcerer chuckled softly, a quiet content in his voice as he took in your words. "I know," he murmured, letting his long fingers trail down to your chin, tipping your head upward so that your faces were closer. His thumb ran over your lips, parting them slowly as the edge of his thumb grazed your tongue, his gaze meeting yours from a few inches away. "But just to add… I love you more than you’ll ever know," he rasped, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a gentle yet intimate kiss, the warmth of the bonfire and the scent of burnt cedar and pine mixing together with your breath.

Your mind fogged as your lips connected, thoughts of the early evening washing away and being replaced by a warm surge of emotions and sensations as you closed your eyes and gave yourself over to the kiss. His hand cupping your chin and his thumb stroking the underside of your jaw only added to the pull he had on you, making you lean into him, slowly shifting onto his lap from your chair. Your body pressed against his, your hands running over thick strands of hair and down to his chest, slipping beneath the coat draped over his shoulders.

Suguru groaned against your mouth, biting down lightly on your bottom lip before gently gripping your throat in warning. His dark eyes sought yours as he growled out, “You know you're tempting me now." He pulled you into another demanding kiss, letting out a low grunt against your lips, his hands moving down to your lower back, one hand brushing over your hip, his teeth lightly scraping your lip as he leaned you against his chest with a quiet moan.

A soft whimper left you at his words and the kiss he gave, your body pressing against his as your hands stroked through his soft mane and along his broad shoulders. "Good," you breathed, pressing closer to him and enjoying the warmth of his body. "I wouldn’t want it any other way." You murmured against his neck, tugging at the neckline of his sweater, your lips trailing along his pulse point as you felt him harden beneath you.

His fingers tightened around your waist as you rocked against him, his breath hitching at the sensation. One of your hands drifted down, fingers tracing the waistband of his dark trousers as you reveled in the heat building between you both. A rasped chuckle left you when you felt the familiar throbbing against your thigh, your hips rolling instinctively as the heavy blanket pooled onto the ground beside you.

“Fuck—” Suguru moaned low, one hand weaving into your hair, tugging your head back until you arched into him. “We still have plans tonight, princess, can’t take you just yet.” His self-control was fraying, barely hanging on. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t tease you… we still have time.”

“That’s cruel,” you whispered, your body shifting again as you pouted up at him, held firmly in his grasp.

“I never said I liked being gentle,” he husked, amber eyes flicking between your lips and your hooded gaze, the rise and fall of your breathing making your body press against him just right. His voice dipped lower, laced with teasing dominance. “You know damn well that I love hearing you beg.” His fingers traced up your side deliberately slow, sending another shiver through you. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You had me worked up the entire drive here.”

“Suguru—” Your voice came out breathless, filled with a deep sense of need as he kept you close, his hold possessive yet reverent.

“Inside the cabin. Now.” His eyes darkened as the bonfire’s flickering glow cast shadows across his sharp features. He let go of your hair, the slight sting at the back of your scalp fading into something more heated. “I’ll give you a taste since you’ve been so desperate for me today.”

He grabbed your wrist, guiding you swiftly inside, kicking the door shut behind you. Coats were discarded, landing somewhere near the chair as he wasted no time pressing you against the nearest counter. One large hand gripped your thigh as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "What do you say you be a good girl and let me do whatever I want with you? A little free use sounds good right about now."

A shudder ran through you at his words. "Y-yes, please," you gasped, your skin pebbling with anticipation as his fingers traced up your thigh.

Suguru hummed in satisfaction at your response, pushing your skirt up to your hips. His blunt fingernails caught the hem of your fleece tights, tugging them down just enough to expose what he wanted. His long fingers dragged through your clothed slit, and you bucked against his hand, cheek pressed to the cold counter with a quiet sob of pleasure.

“Pretty panties today,” he mused, amusement threading his tone as he ran a finger over the damp fabric. "And very tight ones, too." His voice grew huskier as the heat radiating from between your thighs had his own restraint slipping fast. “Already dripping for me…” His breath came shorter as he pushed your underwear aside, sliding two fingers inside of you in one smooth motion. “Shameless, aren’t you?”

Your body tensed around his fingers, a sharp cry escaping you as the sensation overtook your senses. “Mmm… Suguru—” you whimpered, his touch sending shockwaves through you, leaving you breathless.

“Stop acting so needy, princess,” he chuckled darkly, his fingers setting a slow, lazy rhythm, dragging pleasure through every motion. His other hand smoothed over the curve of your ass before giving it a light slap, making you jolt. “Patience.”

At that, your hips bucked into his hand, straining against his wrist, knees slightly shaky as you rocked on your toes to keep your position against the counter.

Suguru’s eyes were glued to you, watching as you writhed with barely contained need. One hand moved to grip your hip firmly, keeping you in place, while his other hand worked steadily, teasingly slow. "That's it…" he groaned low, listening to your whimpers and gasps, your hands curling around the edge of the stone surface as you strained against your own pleasure. "Keep whining for me like the good girl you are, and I might consider speeding up."

"Suguru, please, wanna come, please—"

He smirked at your pleading, cheeks flushed, breathing shaky. "Begging, are you?" His voice was low, hoarse from your desperation. He gave you another small but playful slap on your now-reddening rear. "What am I going to do with you?" He clicked his tongue before chuckling in amusement, pulling his fingers out swiftly. He made sure you were watching over your shoulder before bringing them to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied hum.

His hands then moved to the front of his dark pants as he quickly unzipped them, dropping them down to his thighs alongside his boxers. He gave himself a few shallow strokes, his length heavy in his grasp.

"Don’t worry, I’ll give you a taste of something better."

Your throat tightened at his words, his body thrumming with anticipation as he watched you, eyes half-lidded with need. He caught your attention with more shallow strokes along his length, the soft tip teasing your slit as you squirmed and groaned in response. "Ready for me?" His breath was hot against the back of your neck as he pushed in with one swift roll of his hips, hissing at the feeling as he bottomed out inside of you.

"Suguru—" You sobbed out his name, your hips pressing into the counter as you stood on tiptoe to meet his thrusts.

He set a harsh pace immediately, both of you moaning as he reached to grip your wrists, pinning them behind your back, arching you even more. The action tilted your body at a perfect angle, making you feel every inch of him as he thrust deeper. His other hand moved to cup your face, fingers briefly squishing your cheeks before sliding through your hair. With a swift tug, he pulled your head back, exposing your neck.

His voice dropped into something dark and possessive, "All for my pleasure, baby. Not letting you cum till later tonight—that’s what free use means."

Then, abruptly, he pulled out, stepping back as if nothing had happened, snapping your silk panties back into place. "Behave, and maybe you’ll get that dick all wrapped up nicely after the fireworks show." His words were a teasing command against your neck before he placed a soft kiss on your heated skin, moving away.

You whined at the loss, teary eyes giving him a soft glare as you pulled on your tights. "Fine," you muttered, straightening your skirt.

As the sorcerer parked their sleek black vehicle alongside countless others in the snowy parking lot, he stepped out before walking around and opening the door for you. Your hand wrapped around his forearm with familiar ease.

“Oh, I didn’t expect it to be this big out here. They went all out, huh?” you noted, eyes scanning the number of people in the area. Suguru nodded wordlessly, his gaze flickering to the large sign standing at the very front of the event area, stating, ‘Echigotsumari Art Field + Fireworks in the Snow, Winter 2025.’ Beneath the bold letters, in smaller print, it read, ‘Fireworks color ethereal flower fields of light on a snowy night.’

He guided you through the central area where the main art exposition on the snow was happening. It almost felt like stepping into another world, a vast, open field draped in white and bathed in the soft glow of intricate lights. As the dark sky greeted you both, the first hints of the event’s magic began to flicker to life. Lights in every imaginable hue shimmered, casting the field in a celestial glow as though a piece of the starry sky had descended to earth. Laughter and murmured voices filled the air, a prelude to the night’s main festivities.

“Mmm…” Suguru murmured after a moment, his voice laced with quiet awe as he took in the mesmerizing sight. As you both stepped closer, the colors shifted, painting the snow in breathtaking hues. He tightened his grip on your hand, his attention torn between the scene before him and the feel of you beside him.

“Wow, so pretty,” you breathed, eyes wide as they reflected the flickering lights. Suguru chuckled at your reaction, amusement tugging at his lips before he reached up, ruffling your hair playfully.

“You always get that look when you see something beautiful.”

“And what of it?” you teased, leaning into his touch.

“Nothing,” he said smoothly, the warmth in his voice enough to melt through the winter chill. “Just an observation.”

Along the edge of the glowing field, the scent of warm food and spices mingled with the crisp winter air. Vendors had set up their stalls, offering some of Niigata’s favorite seasonal delicacies. The sizzle of takoyaki turning golden, the rich steam from hot bowls of ramen, and the sugary aroma of freshly made taiyaki filled the space, promising comfort for those braving the cold.

Suguru’s eyes scanned the vibrant scene, but ultimately, they returned to you. His thumb traced a slow, absentminded circle on the back of your hand, his gaze softening as he took in the way you looked around in quiet reverence. The distant chatter of the festival faded into a low hum around you both, a comfortable quiet settling between you.

Then, in a swift but tender movement, he pressed a kiss to your temple, his thumb now smoothing between your knuckles. “You wanna get some food?” he asked, his voice a quiet rumble in the cold night air.

Your eyes brightened at the suggestion, a small bounce of excitement in your step as you grinned. “Ramen, if they have some,” you said eagerly, your tone light as you reached for his hand again, this time guiding it around your waist. “Let’s find a spot where the lines aren’t too long,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder.

Suguru chuckled, the sound warm and low as he allowed himself to be pulled along. “Very well,” he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing along your hip. “Ramen it is.”

The climax of the night was heralded by the first rocket that soared into the blanketed abyss above, bursting into a cascade of sparks. Fireworks, in a symphony of color and sound, danced across the star-littered skies, each explosion a painter's stroke on the canvas of the night. Countless figures stood shoulder to shoulder, heads tilted back, eyes reflecting the splendor above.

The loud pop of the fireworks and the bright lights that followed made Suguru’s heart race. His gaze was quickly drawn away from the colorful display and back to you, watching as your eyes shimmered in the darkness, your features illuminated by the bursts of light. The awe-struck expression on your face, the way your lips parted slightly as you took in the sight—it was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

“Beautiful,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a low rasp.

“The fireworks?” you teased, giggling softly at his sudden shift in attention. You turned to him, your lips curling into a small smile as you awaited his answer. Suguru, for his part, smiled back at you, though what he really wanted was to pull you in close and kiss you deeply.

“Those too,” he hummed against your cheek, his tall frame towering over you. Without another word, he wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand trailing up to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing gently along your jaw. Then, in one swift motion, he pulled you toward him, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and intense.

Suguru had a way of turning a simple kiss into something deep and consuming. His grip on your hips tightened, anchoring you against him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue darted against yours, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the chill in the air. The crackling of fireworks above was nearly drowned out by the thudding of his heart, by the quiet moan you breathed against his lips as he pulled you impossibly closer.

His hand slid lower, grazing the curve of your waist as he smirked into the kiss before eventually releasing you. “This firework display won’t be the only one you see tonight,” he teased, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face before shifting his gaze back to the sky.

You caught your breath, still slightly dazed from the kiss, your fingers lightly touching your lips as you turned back to the fireworks. “I definitely haven’t forgotten,” you teased back, your voice soft and slightly breathless. A warm sensation lingered where his lips had been. “Thank you for bringing me here, Suguru.”

His grip on your hand tightened briefly, a rare but sincere expression of emotion flashing in his amber eyes. “Always,” he murmured, his deep voice nearly lost beneath the next explosion of color in the sky.

They were kissing and giggling once more by the time they stumbled back inside the cabin they had left earlier, with Suguru trying to take off his heavy coat as your cold hands gripped his cheeks, bringing him to lean in for another brief kiss as he obliged for the hundredth time. The two of you were drunk on… love, quite literally (and maybe you had some hot cider at the festival, but that was beside the point).

“We really had a nice evening out,” Suguru mumbled softly as he took off his coat, shaking the fresh snowflakes off and hanging it up on the hallway wall before taking yours too. His attention turned to you, noting the beautiful glow on your cheeks, whether from the cold or from all of the kissing in the last five minutes. Suguru leaned in for another cheeky kiss, his hands moving gently down to the curve of your waist, pulling you tightly into his frame once again. “Now, I hope you will allow your favorite pyrotechnician to make some preparations to get the holiday celebrations in full swing. I believe… a blanket next to the fireplace should be reserved as a VIP spot for you, so follow my instructions, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” you giggled and nodded as you leaned against the dark-haired man's body, your arms wrapping around his for a brief hug before you moved to shrug off your heeled boots, exchanging them for a pair of slippers. “Are pillows allowed, or is that an extra holiday tax?”

“I am feeling generous tonight, so pillows are included in the holiday experience package,” Suguru grinned back at you, watching as you took off your shoes, following right behind you. “Now, you must be cold, so go and sit by the fireplace. As I said, I have more preparations that need to be made for tonight.” He gave you a gentle pat on the ass as he sent you off toward the open space living room and disappeared upstairs into the bathroom.

Around twenty minutes later, the sorcerer emerged from the bathroom with a fluffy robe around his broad shoulders, his dark hair pinned above his head with a small pin. He had taken the time to wash his face, the faint scent of mint still lingering on his breath as he made his way over to the fireplace, where you were now comfortably curled up with a bunch of pillows and two thick fluffy blankets brought from home.

You rested half of your body sideways on your elbow, feet tucked beneath you as you leaned against the back cushion, a short silk robe stretching across your curves as you offered him a glass of champagne, a strawberry swirling inside the liquid. You sat down then to face him better, taking a sip from your own glass.

Suguru chuckled and took the extra glass from you, holding it close to his body until he sat down beside you. He was more than intrigued by the way you looked right now, your eyes glinting in the firelight, your long silky hair falling over your frame like a curtain. He took a few sips of the alcohol, letting the sweetness wash down the lump in his throat before he turned toward you, a playful smirk on his lips as his gaze flicked down to the robe you were wearing. The sorcerer then brought his free hand to the top of your silk robe and gently tugged on it, waiting until you glanced up at him as the silk slid down your shoulder.

“These can wait till after we are done,” he murmured, taking your glass away too and putting them on the coffee table nearby. “The show’s more important after all.” He pushed you down onto the pillows and blankets beneath you. The light from the fireplace provided a sensual and intimate atmosphere between you both.

Suguru’s hand trailed lower as he slowly opened your robe just enough to let one of his hands trace the valley of your breasts, eyes darkening at the silk and lace bra you wore underneath. “Someone’s feeling festive, huh?” The dark-haired man’s face was close to yours as he slowly pulled the robe further away from your body, the robe covering you only in part now. His hand moved over your curves as your breath caught in your throat, your heart racing from the feeling of his warmth on your skin.

“Suguru…” you breathed out his name.

The sorcerer’s breath danced with your accelerated heartbeat, the heat rising even more as he traced your curves with his fingers and traced the outline of your bra, his hand grazing the silk as he felt a small thrill of anticipation. His mouth was close to yours, his tongue darting toward your lower lip, his hand sliding underneath your bra now to finally grab your breast and brush your nipple with the back of his thumb.

“Ready for your final gift tonight?” He pinched the nipple between his thumb and index finger as you threw your head back, then nodded wordlessly.

Suguru shrugged off his fluffy black robe. He was wearing nothing underneath—well, apart from a nicely wrapped gift box right on his dick.

“I can’t believe you actually took that seriously.” You groaned and then laughed at the sight that somehow made you even more aroused.

“Told you I’d show you my wrapping skills.” He smirked at you. “Now, how about you unwrap your gift, hm? He’s been rather excited to see you, given what we were doing right before we went out for the festival.”

Suguru then chuckled as he watched you giggle at his dumb joke. He was quite pleased he got to pull it off so successfully, though he felt even more pleased by the look on your face.

He was getting a feeling that you were going to enjoy his little idea, inspired by your silly song choice in the car today. “Now, how about you give me a little show first? Show me what you can do with your hands or that pretty mouth of yours, little miss, I’m all eyes.”

“Aww, how is it always on me to entertain?” you groaned in mock fashion, letting your hands brush across the sorcerer’s bare chest, your hand trailing lower to his groin as you slowly removed the box, trying not to laugh before brushing your fingernails along the thick vein of his cock.

“I’m afraid no fireworks can be launched without a little bit of preparation.” He groaned softly as you brushed your fingertips along his length. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was working wonders. Your touch was smooth and delicate, and it was enough to make his blood rush through his veins as his body reacted to your every move, his cock twitching in your hand as you gripped him tightly at the base now.

You couldn’t help your laughter, a deep chortle rumbling from your throat. It was quite a funny sight, having the special-grade sorcerer of all people be your gift, but you quickly found it to be a turn-on too. “Alright, I guess I’ll lend you some support.” You hummed, sliding down on your knees as your lips wrapped around the tip.

Suguru closed his eyes, his head falling back as he let out a long moan, his damp long hair slipping free from the pin that held it together, cascading over his back and shoulders. His body quivered as he took in the sight of you on your knees, working him over with eager lips and a talented tongue. His large hand gripped the back of your head, guiding you to take him all the way down just as he knew you could, your nose brushing against the soft trail of dark-trimmed hair at his crotch.

“Now, that’s more like it,” Suguru growled, his voice thick with desire as his body responded to the sensation. His fingers dug into your hair as your mouth and tongue worked their magic. “No wonder you’re my free use slut,” he groaned, his breath coming in short gasps as he watched your fierce, half-lidded eyes look up at him, long lashes casting delicate shadows against your flushed cheeks.

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” he bit his bottom lip, the taste of iron lingering on his tongue as he bucked his hips into your wet heat, his movements slow but deliberate as he began thrusting into your mouth.

You moaned at his reaction, using his heavy breathing as a guide while your swollen lips and tongue swirled and slid over him. Every now and then, you flicked your eyes up to make sure he was enjoying the view, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. Minutes passed, both of you losing track of time, moving in sync. His grip on the back of your head tightened, his thighs tensing, his breath hitching as you reached down and gently squeezed his balls.

Suguru’s body shuddered, the tension in his stomach coiling tighter, his muscles trembling as he neared the edge. You felt it—his body strung taut, teetering between restraint and release. But you were toying with him, teasing, bringing him close but never letting him fall over. You smirked up at him, enjoying his struggle.

A low, frustrated growl left him as he suddenly pulled you away, his hands gripping your shoulders as he pushed you down onto the pillows. His body hovered over yours, his knees nudging your legs apart. “Think you’re such a tease?” he murmured darkly, eyes burning into yours. “Oh, I’m gonna make a firework show of your insides.”

“With your firework stick?” you teased, smirking.

His response was swift—a sharp slap against your clothed pussy, making your eyes widen as your body jolted.

“Yes, my firework stick,” he groaned, his voice thick with amusement and arousal. His gaze darkened as his hand drifted down your inner thigh, teasing but not yet giving you what you wanted. You writhed beneath him, anticipation building as he slid his fingers along your slit, pushing your panties aside. Your breath hitched, body trembling at his touch.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his voice husky as he pushed two fingers deep inside you. Your breath caught in your throat, your back arching as your nails dug into his arms. “Want that firework stick now?”

“You’re teasing me again, Suguru,” you sighed, chest rising and falling with sharp, shallow breaths. “It’s not fair.”

He smirked, his thumb circling your clit with slow, deliberate strokes. “Please what?” he murmured, one arm pinning your wrists above your head, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“Suguru, I want your cock—” you gasped, your words breaking into little sobs of pleasure as he continued to toy with you.

The sorcerer hummed, his free hand moving to grip himself, rubbing the tip along your soaked folds. “Like this? Does my little slut like this? Tell me,” he rasped, his voice teasing, knowing exactly what he was doing. Your teary eyes widened as your thighs trembled, instinctively seeking more contact. “God, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his breath growing short as the blunt head of his cock gathered more of your arousal, slicking himself up.

“A-ah, inside, please,” you whimpered, frustration laced in your voice, your body aching from the emptiness.

“Alright, I’ll oblige just this once since I teased you enough already,” he chuckled, releasing your wrists. His large hands gripped your thighs, pushing your legs back until your knees nearly touched your chest. The movement made your breasts jiggle, drawing a low, appreciative groan from him. Before you could catch your breath, he was inside you, stretching you open in one deep thrust.

“Mhm, don’t clench so hard, baby, or the fireworks might come early,” he moaned against your neck, his head falling forward, silky strands of black hair tickling your collarbone and cheek. You squeezed him so tightly he thought he might lose it right then, but the way your body spread open for him, folding beneath him just for his pleasure, was an image he would never forget.

“But you feel so good,” you gasped, arms wrapping around his shoulders, legs trembling at the overwhelming sensation. His cock filled you perfectly, the stretch delicious, making you feel every inch of him with each slow roll of his hips.

“Shit, you’re just begging to be fucked open like that,” he growled, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, keeping you pinned beneath him. “Gonna fuck open that hole of yours nice and well for me tonight—that’s what needy little whores like you get.”

You whimpered, body pliant beneath him as he started moving, his heels digging into the blanket for leverage. His thrusts were slow but deep, pulling out only halfway before slamming back in, dragging pleasure from you with every movement. Your soft thighs pressed against his abs, your ankles brushing over his shoulders.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. “Need you like this for me,” he groaned against your mouth. “All spread out and taking me all the way in like a good girl.”

His hips snapped forward sharply, the force of it knocking the breath from your lungs. You cried out, back arching, nails dragging down his back as he fucked you open, his body covering yours as he took exactly what he wanted.

“Fuuuck,” you groaned, biting your lower lip as your nails dragged along his shoulders, down to his biceps that flexed with every thrust. He kept you exactly where he wanted, his pace increasing, hips slamming against yours. Your eyes rolled back, your mind emptying as a familiar sensation built within you—the ache turning into something far more intense, something dangerously pleasurable.

Suguru fell onto his forearms now, his cock stretching you in a way that made you whimper and moan, his pace relentless. Your lashes grew damp, your voice breaking into small, needy cries as his movements became rougher, deeper, hitting every spot that made you see stars.

“Close—” you choked out, and he heard you, immediately doubling down. His hips slammed into you with a force that promised you wouldn’t be walking straight for days. The sound of skin slapping filled the space, each desperate thrust accompanied by the weight of his balls smacking against you. Your walls clenched down around him, and you let out a sob, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks.

Something inside of you snapped—tight, like a string pulled too far. Your entire body twitched erratically, his name leaving your lips in a breathless chant, swallowed by his mouth as he latched onto your neck, sucking and biting until your skin was marked by him. His own restraint nearly snapped when he felt the way you pulsed around him, your tight cunt milking him, desperate to take everything he had to give.

“What a fucking wet mess you are,” he groaned, his voice rough with lust. “Look between your legs, baby. You’re dripping for me, making a mess of my cock.” His sharp amber eyes flicked downward, watching as his length dragged out of you, slick and coated with your release. A creamy ring formed at the base, evidence of just how ruined you were for him. You could only whimper in response, too lost in the pleasure to form coherent words.

Suguru gripped one of your ankles, kissing the inside of your leg with a surprising tenderness that contrasted the merciless way he was still fucking into you, barely giving you time to recover. He slid back in, chasing his own relief now, his breath ragged.

“You’re still so fucking tight after all that,” he groaned, his voice strained. His heavy breaths matched your own as he watched the way you took him, his cock splitting you open over and over again. His pace was erratic now, his hips shaking as he leaned in, panting against your cheek. “God, I love you so much,” Suguru moaned, seconds away from unraveling.

“I love you too,” you gasped, your body trembling, thighs twitching from the overstimulation. Your fingers, which had been clawing at his shoulders, now gripped the blanket beneath you instead, trying to ground yourself as the pleasure threatened to consume you whole.

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly, and with one deep, desperate thrust, his entire body shuddered. His broad back arched, veins popping along his neck and arms as he let out a series of ragged, needy grunts. “Fuck—baby—milking me like this—”

You moaned hoarsely at the warmth that filled you, thick ropes of cum spilling inside you, coating your walls. He groaned low in his throat, his tongue darting out to lick a stray tear from your cheek as he savored the moment. His cock twitched inside you as he stayed buried to the hilt for a few extra seconds, basking in the sensation before finally slipping out with a grunt. His hand, which had been wrapped around your throat, loosened, leaving behind the faint imprint of his touch.

Suguru leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, sweat glistening on both of your bodies.

“Did you like the fireworks?” he rasped, a hoarse chuckle escaping him.

You nodded frantically, still dazed, your body twitching as the lingering pleasure pulsed through you. Your breath was uneven, coming in short little puffs as you gazed at him through heavy lids. “I didn’t know you had that in you,” you sighed, voice weak, barely above a whisper. The ache between your legs was proof that he had pushed you to your limit, leaving every muscle loose and spent.

“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” he asked, raising a brow, though his smug grin faded slightly when he saw the way you struggled to move.

“You’re gonna have to carry me for the next few days because no, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk at all,” you groaned, wincing at the slightest movement. Your hands remained clenched around the blanket, as if letting go would make the overwhelming sensation return in full force.

Suguru’s smirk faltered, concern flickering in his eyes, but you quickly shook your head, reaching out to cup his cheek. “I couldn’t possibly be more satisfied than I am right now,” you reassured him. “So stop worrying and let’s just cuddle by this goddamn fireplace.” You pushed at his chest until he rolled onto his side, allowing you to curl up beside him.

He gave you a satisfied little smile, his heart doing an embarrassing flip as he pulled a spare blanket over both of you. His long limbs wrapped around you, one arm securing you against his chest as he tucked your head beneath his chin. He kissed your forehead softly, inhaling the scent of your skin, content to simply hold you.

“If anyone should be worried, it should be me,” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone. “You’re a mess right now, and I feel no remorse whatsoever. What is this now, the third time this week I’ve ruined you?”

“And this will be the third time I’ve enjoyed it,” you countered, smiling against his chest. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him impossibly closer, your breaths evening out as exhaustion settled in.

“Oh shit—the champagne!” you suddenly remembered, cracking your eyes open. You glanced at the coffee table beside you, spotting the two glasses you had barely touched. The strawberries floating inside had absorbed half the alcohol, fizzing up slightly.

Suguru groaned. “You mean to tell me I did all of that and you’re still thinking about champagne?”

You giggled, nudging his side. “Well, it’s still a celebration, isn’t it?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, his grip on you tightening. “Yeah, yeah. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, baby.”

///

© 2025 dijayeah.

[604to647]

Crawling Back to You (Dieter’s Version)

3.7K / Dieter Bravo x fem!reader

Summary: A moment of weakness could lead to lifetime of regret unless Dieter can set things right with you.

Warnings: Angst, pining. Mention of drug use. Reader has a purposefully vague production/behind the scenes job because I don't know anything about movie production. Eventual HEA. One Friends reference - see if you can find it 😉

A/N: This was written for @happypedrohours’ Bouquets of Pedro Challenge. My Valentine’s prompt for Dieter was PDA. I’ve never written for Dieter before! I know he’s a chaos gremlin (affectionate), but I really like fics I read of him where he just wants to be loved? So, that's the Dieter that I wrote - I hope it's okay 🥹 (Sorry if he’s too OOC 😭) Musical inspiration is Hozier's cover of Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know."

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Many thanks to @morallyinept for your character and dialogue database to help me try and get into a Bravo state of mind 😘

He considers doing something big and splashy, of course.  And public - very, very public.  Afterall, not being P with his DAs had been what tore the two of you apart. 

Well, part of it, anyways.

Double-paged feature in Variety.  Highway billboards with matching ads on the side of buses.  Live poetry reading on the big screens in Time Square.

But all of that would be very old Dieter Bravo of him and he was no longer that man - in large part because of you, for you.

Dieter had met you many, many moons ago.  Always a friendly face on whatever set or industry event it was where you might cross paths, the two of you had gone from familiar acquaintances, to friends, to someone the other actively sought out for good company or shelter when the bright lights got too hot, the clamouring crowds too loud.

When you first met, Dieter thought you must be an actress - you were too beautiful, too captivating not to be onscreen.  But while you did have a few extra credits to your name, he soon learned that your ambition lay behind the camera.  He remembers the first time he heard your melodic voice ring out across set - like a drunken sailor to a siren’s call, he followed it without question in a semi lucid state (Hey! What’s a little marijuana between a movie star and the teamsters?).  But upon the lifting of his fog, Dieter found not his destruction, but salvation: a sympathetic ally on set, someone with whom he could be a team – a calm in the chaotic storm that was most movie productions,

You worked hard at learning and mastering your trade, and your keen eye and intuitive sense for movie making sang your merits louder than that hypnotic voice of yours that first drew Dieter (and others) to you; that you were easy to get along with and impossible to say no to was no small feat in this business – especially for a woman.  Dieter watched as you dogged forward, paying your dues and solidifying your reputation and resume – whenever he hears your name being bantered about behind the doors of Hollywood’s most coveted meetings, he feels only excessive pride.  He would tell you himself if you were speaking to him. 

Dieter still remembers the night when the two of you crossed that unspoken line for the first time; even now he’s not sure what he would have done if Cupid hadn’t been on his side.  There had been some studio gala, nothing special – or so he thought.  Slipping away from the endless shmoozing and sycophantic hoards that tend to overrun these gatherings, Dieter escaped through the catering entrance in search of some obliging venue service staff (Hollywood hot tip: the wait staff always have the best drugs!).  Instead, he had found you - sitting on a table pushed to the side of the corridor, fancy ballgown fanned out, eating popsicles, legs swinging without a care in the world.

“Dieter!” your cheer was infectious, your smile mischievous and joyful, “I didn’t care for any of those tiny finger desserts they had going out on the trays so I asked the wait staff what they kept in the back for dessert and they gave me a whole box!”  His search for extracurriculars forgotten, Dieter happily joined you, choosing instead to get drunk on your pretty face, happy chatter, and the completely innocent yet salacious way your mouth worked that frozen treat.

About three popsicles in (each) the icy desserts began melting – you managed to save yourself and finish yours just in time, but Dieter’s blue-raspberry concoction was rapidly disintegrating and about to make a guaranteed mess of his dress pants when your hands darted out, catching the slush midair.

Dieter cackled, marveling at your wide-eyed expression and hands, now wet, sticky and blue, “What did you do that for?”

“I don’t know," you crowed, eyes crinkling, still holding your cupped hands out in front of you, "I just didn’t want them to make some kind of 'blue balls' joke about you and your stained crotch in the tabloids tomorrow!”

He clasped his clean hand in yours, adhering himself to you in more ways than one - the two of you giggling and giddy as you re-entered the ballroom.  After finding a free table, some clean napkins and a pitcher of water, you sat as Dieter lovingly washed and cleaned your hands so that they wouldn’t be stained with Blue Dye #1.  He was on his knees, drying and holding your small delicate hands in his much rougher, clumsier ones, when he happened to look up to see you gazing adoringly down at him, eyes grateful and looking at him like he was hanging the moon for you.

Dieter lifted up and unable to help himself, connected his lips to yours – hoping against hope that he wasn’t ruining one of the few precious, genuine connections in his life.  His relief was soon overtaken by desire when you kissed him back – the two of you somehow managing to make your way back to the service hallways, lips crashing together over and over like unstoppable waves of an inevitable ocean.  The kisses were sensual and messy, pure and happy – it made Dieter feel like a teenager again. 

“Is this weird?” he whispered at one point - vulnerable, no bravado.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” you breathed, though your voice was soft, your touch reassuring, “but don’t stop.”  So, he didn’t.  He kissed your lips swollen, pressing you up against the wall and succumbing to the intoxication of your pretty noises and tender affection. 

Nothing else happened that night, and in fact, you had run away!  After getting a text that your friend was currently giving birth, you rushed off to the hospital like Cinderella, ballgown skirts gathered in your careful hands while darting away in the night.  Dieter, dazed and higher than he’s even felt, caught the kiss you blew him, and while pressing it to his slackened, blissed out face, vowed to become your Prince Charming.

He found you on set the following Monday and for the first time in a long time, Dieter Bravo, famously chill Cool Dude™ had felt shy, nervous.  He needn’t have been – you responded to his earnestness with sweet generosity, only ever honest and non-pretentious; it was clear that for the both of you, there was no going back to just friends. 

The rest as they say, was history. 

Except being with you felt completely new to Dieter – for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he looked forward to waking up to the start of each day, genuinely excited for its possibilities, and even more to coming home every night, grateful for the newfound comfort of life’s simple pleasures.

Grateful, yes.  If there was one thing Dieter wishes he could tell you it’s how grateful he is for you.  While you were blazing your own path to success, you had also helped him redefine his - believing in and supporting the seemingly unflappable Dieter Bravo when he admitted to wanting more.  Hollywood’s unbothered bro, Tinseltown’s perpetually aflame trainwreck darling was capable of and itching for growth, who knew?  You did.

You read scripts with him and talked through his needs and ambitions; finally having a sounding board with no self-serving stake in the financial success of his career choices, Dieter began choosing increasingly more varied and interesting projects with your encouragement and support.  He’s happier now, more fulfilled, challenged, engaged.

And he got sober (Well, he still drinks, but that doesn’t really count, right?  It’s Hollywood).  Detox had been a fucking nightmare but Dieter likes the voices in his head now.  They’re gentler with him, more forgiving, thoughtful.  They sound like you.

Dieter loved you so much, he wanted to climb to the top of the Hollywood sign and shout it all the way across the Pacific; he thought a love such as yours was limitless.

His publicists discouraged it.  The world loved the Dieter they knew: eccentric, sex-crazed, tabloid staple, a spectacle.  They weren’t interested in another middle-aged actor trying too hard to be taken seriously, who had seemingly left his wild days behind for a boring, stable relationship with a non-celebrity.  The public wanted ✨salaciousness✨glitz✨scandal✨.

You had gone along with keeping your relationship hidden, valuing your privacy and preferring to keep the sacredness of your love for one another only.  “I love you, Dieter,” you vowed, “I don’t need everyone to know it, but I don’t ever want to feel like your dirty little secret, okay?”

He promised you without really understanding what that meant.

Your relationship blossomed behind closed doors.  Both of you walked red carpets alone, careful not to get papped together, and on sets, remained cordial and professional until you got behind Dieter’s closed trailer doors where his affection for you knew no bounds, even when contained.  You would tell each other that your love wasn’t a secret, it was private, protected and kept safe from the prying and critical eyes of the public.

When his PR team arranged a fake relationship with the young and upcoming nepo baby starlet with whom he acted opposite in his latest movie as a means to promote the film, Dieter had reservations.  But he hadn’t said no. 

And after several long and serious conversations with his management about his fading relevancy and the exposure that the arrangement would net him, the starlet, the film, Dieter eventually relented and agreed to go along with it.  It seems that fame was the one drug that he hadn’t quite kicked. 

Dieter will never forget the look on your face when he brought up the PR campaign – the way your eyes crinkled in disappointment and the curve of your pretty lips pulling down your entire face haunts him every night. 

“What happens to your real girlfriend when you’re out with your fake girlfriend, Dieter?”

He couldn’t even bring himself to ask you to wait, or stay by his side, but hidden.  It was beneath you, insulting.  And to ask was to break his promise.

Turns out he didn’t even need to ask for you to feel the full weight of his betrayal.

The last words he ever spoke to you had been uttered pathetically to the front door you shut in his face, “Baby, maybe I can fix it.  Let me try.”  Their only registered response was the sound of your sobs getting softer and softer as you walked away, shutting the doors in the house he could no longer call home.

He hadn’t been able to fix it.  By design, Hollywood’s PR machine is a force, the joint efforts of Dieter and the starlet’s teams a runaway train.  Their “relationship” had been Page Six news before Dieter even had the chance to call his publicist to say that he couldn’t go through with it.  The public ate it all up just as predicted:

Dieter Bravo, Hollywood Chaos Prince back at it again, charming and capturing the heart of Tinseltown’s newest princess.

His mind swims of you.  During every press tour interview he does with his pretend girlfriend, Dieter cringes at the fake touches and gestures of affection choreographed for the cameras; all the scripted flirting and empty terms of endearment taste like acid on his tongue (and not the good kind either).  But none of this compares to the shame he feels at having hurt you, the owner of his heart, and that he likely continues to do so with every orchestrated date night photo-op for TMZ, every “happy couple” glambot he poses for on the red carpet.

Dieter finally sees you again six months into his fake relationship.

At the MTV Movie Awards, he’s waiting for the starlet to finish her solo shots, rubbing his temple at the too bright lights, the garish and loud décor, the music that doesn’t even sound like music, when he sees you stroll in on the arm of a man he doesn’t recognize.  But Dieter couldn’t care less who the man is - it’s you he can’t look away from; you’re laughing, radiant, soft.  Unchanged.  Ethereal. 

Dieter thinks he might vomit.  He thinks he might need to do a line.  He can’t let you see him.

Without excusing himself, Dieter leaves the red carpet and locks himself in a bathroom, trying to push down his bubbling panic attack.  He knows his “girlfriend” is probably beside herself, and that his unexplained absence is likely giving rise to new rumours and speculation that he’s on some kind of drug-fuelled spiral, but he can’t bring himself to come out.

Someone slips a KitKat under the door of the bathroom. 

Dieter knows it’s you; only you would be so subtle, so gentle, so reassuring with one simple gesture.  Only you know him and what brings him the most comfort.  He picks up the chocolate bar and stares at it for a while before biting into it, thinking about how he got himself into this mess.

A moment weakness.  A lifetime of regret.

Not if Dieter could help it.

He “breaks up” with the starlet the following week; it would have been handled even sooner if he didn’t have to fight and threaten to fire his entire team, eventually dragging in Legal to help him break the marketing contract he had unknowingly signed in blood.

Immediately Dieter starts planning how he will make things up to you, beg for another chance – apologize; drafting and discarding every over-the-top gesture that pops into his buzzing mind, each more theatrical and outlandish than the last.

He finally settles on a letter – one that Dieter can’t stop writing after he starts and ends up being eighteen pages (front and back).  It begins with an apology – for having hurt you so callously, for breaking his promise to you, and for, even if only a second, ever making you feel like you weren’t important or enough.  Especially when it was his own bruised ego that had needed the stroking – this entire disaster a result of his own weakness, born from a dark place inside where he had been made small by an industry that thrived on the insecurities of its so-called stars, and Dieter’s fear of feeling even smaller.  You made him feel so good while the two of you had been together, he naively thought that your light had eradicated all such voids and pits within him – but it was unfair to heap the responsibility of his growth and self improvement onto you.  And though he knows that he still has work to do, he credits your influence and compassion for the progress he’s made so far.  Around page six of the letter Dieter’s Sorrys transition into Thank Yous. 

Dieter thanks you for every way you’ve made him a better man, made him want to be a better man.  He thanks you for all the times your unparalleled support, kindness, and generosity have gotten him through the day on set, or through his self doubts at night.  Words of gratitude overflow from his pen, pouring out nearly faster than he can write – you, you, you.  He’s thankful for you.

And he misses you.  And not just all the ways you meshed your gentle life with the squishy bits of his, but just you.  Your sweet laugh.  The crinkle of your nose and the watering of your eyes at his farts sarcastic jokes.  And your mouth.  Great Paul Newman, he’s always been obsessed with your mouth – and not just what he knows it can do and how it tastes, but everything that comes out of it.  Dieter could listen to you talk about anything for hours – he might not know a single thing about what you’re talking about, but he understands eloquence, passion, and the artistry of words when he hears it.  Having spent most of his adult life around industry blowhards, Dieter knows that intelligence without pretension is a rarity - fresh air that he longs to breathe in again. 

On page twelve, Dieter tells you he loves you - loves you for everything you are and what you stand for.  He loves how you’ve remained gentle, even though the business of show makes it its mission to sharpen everyone and everything it swallows.  He loves that your default is always thoughtfulness and compassion, that you embody a quiet type of beauty that doesn’t need to be paraded about or loudly lauded in order to shine.  How do you make even the mundane so fascinating?  It must be that confident grace of yours.  Dieter writes an entire two pages on how he just wants to watch you wash dishes again – he tries to describe the meditative calm that comes just from seeing the soapy water bow to your whim, as if it knows the power and majesty of its bender; understanding as he does now the magnanimity it takes to ensure that no small movement is wasted, to make every action purposeful.  He’s enraptured by you.  Admires you. Worships you.  So, so in love with you.

He reads the letter over a hundred times before tying the folded pages together with a bright red bow.  Using his Bravo charm, Dieter sneaks onto the set of your latest movie and leaves it in your trailer on top of a jewelry box that holds an ostentatiously luxurious diamond necklace he bought you before everything had gone to hell.  He had kept it all this time, unable to bring himself to return it, never even considering giving it to anyone but you.

Three weeks pass and Dieter hears nothing back.

He had tried to prepare himself for this possibility – that perhaps you might never forgive him, want nothing more to do with him, but still, it’s with a heavier than expected heart that he gets ready for his movie premiere, the very same film he’d promoted with his fake relationship.  Dieter didn’t expect any drama at the event – he and the starlet spoke last week and agreed that arriving separately but acting like friends was the best way to quell the outrageous reasons for the “breakup” speculated in the gossip rags.  In truth, even though they had grown to become actual friends during the meshugana of the last few months, Dieter can’t help but associate this entire project with his own regret and shame - he can’t wait for this evening to be over.

He goes through the motions of the red carpet.  Greeting his co-stars with boisterous cheers and hard gripping handshakes.  Hitting his marks and smiling almost manically for the cameras.  Waving to the fans and signing every piece of paper shoved towards him (this part he really did not mind; you always said that his fans were the best and they are).  Doing his time in the interview pit.  When he’s near the end of the gauntlet, with only the Entertainment Tonight interview to get through before he can (blessedly) retreat to his seat in the theatre, a vivid glimmer of brilliance catches Dieter’s eye.  Unlike the near blinding flash of a photographer’s camera, this sparkle beckons him, brightly winking – he almost puts up a hand to shield his eyes before he realizes what it is.

It's you.

You’re at his premiere.  Gorgeous, breathtaking, elegant – you’re walking down the arrivals promenade… and you’re wearing the diamond necklace Dieter left with your letter.  Inadvertently tuning out the ET interviewer, he stares, awestruck, mouth agape – hopeful.  The interviewer can’t help but follow Dieter’s gaze and asks him who you are. 

“An angel,” he answers honestly.

At that same moment, you finally spot him and your face breaks into a big smile, the luminosity of which nearly drops Dieter to his knees.  Instead, he breaks out into a sprint, running towards you. 

When you see what he’s doing, you pick up your skirts and start moving towards him as well.  Dieter dodges and weaves between the bodies on the red carpet, trying not to slam into any of the people that stand between him and his everything, only vaguely aware of the Entertainment Tonight interviewer and her cameraman hot on his heels.

Suddenly, the crowd seems to part and there’s a clearing right where the two of you finally meet, stopping only inches from one another.  Dieter’s panting (fuck, he’s out of shape!) but grinning like a fool when you drop the fabric of your dress to bring your hands come up to cup his face, thumbs running lovingly over his unkempt scruff – a familiar gesture that feels better than any high he’s ever experienced.  Your face is flushed bright and content, home.

“You got my letter.”

“I did.”

“You’re wearing the necklace.”

“I am.”  Your eyes twinkle, complimenting the serenity and invitation of your countenance - both saying everything without even a word.  It gives Dieter the boost of confidence he needs.

“May I kiss you?”

“Even though we’re in public?” You’re being cheeky on purpose.

But for once Dieter won’t play - there is nothing except sincerity in his response, “From now on, only ever in public.  No more hiding.”

An orchestral movie score heard only by the two of you swells as you both move to close the remaining distance between your bodies, crushing your mouths together.  The kiss is passionate, deep and heated – leaving no doubt of your feelings for one another; not even the gawking onlookers can deny what you mean to each other.  Camera bulbs pop and bright lights flash all around as your lips settle and mold in a tender slow dance, loathed to be parted ever again.  Your hands card through Dieter’s soft curls, delicate fingers cradling his head soothingly, warm; his hands spread wide to cover your back, covetous and protective.

“No more hiding,” you whisper, face lit with joy at the adoration and promise reflected in Dieter’s mirrored expression.

He nods and tightens his arm around your waist, love and resolution coursing through his veins.  Sharing one last private look, the two of you turn in unison, a team, towards the awestruck Entertainment Tonight interviewer whose microphone is practically shaking with excitement.  Dieter beams his megawatt Bravo smile at her, “Is this what the kids call a hard launch?”

🎶Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know" lyrics (Hozier's version):

Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through Crawlin' back to you 🎶

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

It's Golden

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Your week in London with Dieter comes to an end. A new year brings a revelation. Warnings: pov switching, warren's a pos, pining, fluff, comfort, dieter bravo is good at being romantic, unprotected p in v sex, oral (f&m receiving), balcony sex, shower sex, london eye sex (please throw out all reality about the london eye), waking up to oral sex, ordering room service with dieter between your legs, ass slapping, risque photos, psychedelic mushrooms, marijuana, alcohol, special guest star paddington bear, long distance relationship airport flashbacks for your author, i am sorry about the ending Words: 8,500

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you to everyone who reads this... Dee & Sweets started as a singular fic... and then the character's planted in my head and heart and refused to leave. This chapter's a big one. I hope you enjoy. ✨💞 Thank you to @devineconjuring and @schnarfer for their Google Docs perusing.

Previous Chapter Golden Girl Masterlist Masterlist ✨✨✨

December 29

Dieter wakes up, reaching his arm out for your body, but finds only cool sheets. He blinks away the remnants of sleep turning over to find your side of the bed empty.

With a sigh, he fumbles for his phone on the nightstand. As he unlocks it, a flurry of notifications pop up. At the top, a message from Alex. An outline, detailed and thorough, listing everything he needs to do now that the photos have been taken care of. There’s a lot there… but he’d do triple the work if it meant it’d keep you safe.

He can hear the faint sounds of a random cast of British people on TV. He gets out of bed excited to tell you the good news.

He slides his arms in his robe before tying it loosely as he pads out of the bedroom. The living room is empty, the TV playing Paddington softly to itself. Of course you’d choose Paddington. He hears a slight clattering down the hallway as he gets his first smell of coffee.

He hears you softly humming to yourself as he approaches the kitchen. He pauses at the doorway when he sees you. 

You’re standing at the stove, flipping pancakes while sipping a mug full of coffee. You’re wearing the same bright, striped robe he gave you a couple of years ago. He loves watching you exist, doing something as mundane as flipping pancakes. It almost feels like he’s been transported back to your home, standing in your kitchen.

"You brought my robe?”

You startle slightly when he speaks.

“Morning," you turn, lifting your mug up and smiling in greeting. “I did.”

He strides over. Placing his hand on your shoulder to turn you. His eyebrows rise at the sight in front of him. The robe is tied loosely, your chest almost fully exposed to him, his mouth already begins to water. “Damn, it looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile before turning back to flip another pancake.

He steps closer, his chest pressing against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Pancakes, huh?”

“I know they’re one of your favorites and I-I wanted to thank you for what you did last night.”

“It was nothing. Alex also let me know he’s called off the proverbial hounds.”

"Really? How did you manage that?"

"I have my ways. Let's just say I'll be doing a lot more press in the coming months."

You turn in his arms, eyes wide with surprise. “You didn’t have to do that… honestly.”

"Hey, it's worth it. You're worth it.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out appreciatively. 

He presses his lips against you, his hands sliding down to your waist, pushing you against the countertop. The spatula clatters to the floor when you wrap your arms around his neck.

The two of you get lost in the kiss, your lips, tongues, hands, and moans trying to tell each other all the words and feelings left unsaid… until you smell burnt pancakes.

“Shit!” you exclaim, pushing him away before moving the pan off the stove.

You shake your head with a smile as you scrape the charred remains of the pancake into the trash. “Get out of here before we have to order room service.”

He constantly feels like he’s dreaming whenever he’s around you, especially right now. You’re sitting cross legged on the couch happily eating a piece of marmalade topped toast while watching Paddington. He’s already devoured three pancakes. You even remembered exactly how he likes them: covered in honey, hot sauce, and bacon.

It’s like you’ve always been here in London with him, slotted into his life. You’ve taken this temporary hotel suite and made it into a home.

You’ve always been the one for him, and when you look over, mouth full of toast, and ask “Paddington 2 next?” He wants to do this with you forever.

—-

"If you're kind and polite, the world will be right."

Dieter chuckles a low, happy sound when he sees you’re wiping tears from your eyes as the credits of Paddington 2 begin to roll.

“What do you want to do today now that you’re all cried out from Paddington?” he teases.

You grab a throw pillow, bonking it against his head. “Shut up.”

He laughs, catching the pillow and tossing it aside. “Did you want to go see Paddington at Paddington Station? We’ll get some marmalade sandwiches, maybe see if we can spot a small Peruvian bear,” he says with a wink.

“Oh, so my not so subtle hints worked, right?”

He shakes his head, offering you his hand as he rises. “Come on Sweets, get your rain boots out.”

“They’re called wellies here!”

—-

How can you take such a menial task and make it so sexy? 

You’re squeezing the remnants of your travel size shampoo out of the bottle, frowning as nothing spurts out. He doesn’t know why he can feel the rush of blood to his dick. Oh yeah, it’s because you’re all wet and naked in front of him, your breasts jiggling as you shake the bottle.

He finds himself sudsing up his cock with much more vigor than normal. His length not so subtly growing hard against his palms. You’re massaging shampoo into your scalp when you look over at him, realizing what he’s doing.

You reach over with a smile, wrapping your hand around his, guiding it up and down his shaft. His deep, long groan echoes off the marble when you brush your thumb against his sensitive tip.

His chest meets your back when you turn, his hands move to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers as he rubs his cock against your slippery, wet ass.

Bracing your hands against the tiled wall, you bend over slightly. He runs his hand down your back and over the curve of your ass. Water cascades down your skin, he can’t resist himself, you look so fucking good, he leaves a light slap against your ass.

“Oh!” you shout followed by a long moan and a tempting giggle. His legs turn to jelly when you breathe out a low “again.”

He complies, this time teasing you with a couple false starts before SMACK, he leaves an open palmed sting against your skin.

You moan again and spread your legs wide for him, arching your back and presenting your pussy to him.

You glance over your shoulder. “Fuck me Dieter, give me your cock.”

You’ve never talked dirty to him, he’s thought about how you’d sound for years… so much so, he would dread it if he heard you utter the word fuck, because in his fantasies, you were constantly telling him to fuck you.

He grips your slippery hips as he lines himself up to your eager pussy that’s waiting for him. Lazily, your hips sway back and forth, brushing the tip of his cock against your cunt.

You glance at him again, a look of determination on your beautiful face. “I said, fuck me Dee,” you command.

That’s enough for him, he enters you quick and hard, your elbows and knees bending at the impact. His cock bottoming out in your wet, tight cunt as you scream his name.

He drives into you hard and fast, his hands perched against your shoulders, hips snapping against your ass.

“Yessss,” you hiss.

He knew you’d be the best he’s ever had, but he never knew just how good you’d feel every time, how sweet your moans would sound reverberating off the tile, how mesmerized he’d be by the way the water splashes as he fucks into you.

His suite is one of the largest and highest floored at this super luxury hotel, but he’s pretty sure that even the lobby can hear the noises you’re making right now.

He watches your orgasm spread through your body. Your hands trying to grip the wall, your head thrown back, mouth open wide, spitting water out as you coo and gasp for him. You’re absolutely gripping his cock, the pulses of it and your vibrating body sending him over the edge.

“Fuuuuuck,” he swears, pulling his cock out and shooting his load all over your back and ass, pumping himself as the water washes away his cum. You’re trembling, barely able to keep yourself up. He grabs you, kissing your soaked skin and whispering how good you took his cock as you smile up at him with a sweet, satisfied smile. Okay, now he’s sure he is dreaming.

—-

You’ve been to London a few times with Warren, but he always found the idea of going somewhere to see a statue of a “cartoon” ridiculous. You always knew Dieter would understand your joy with zero judgment.

You weave around the travelers and tourists, until you see him. The Paddington Bear. You pull Dieter towards the bronze statue, “Oh my god! It’s him!”

You can’t contain your excitement, a wide grin spreads across your face as you sit down on the bronze suitcase and mimic Paddington’s seated position.

Dieter takes a few photos of you with your beloved bear, his shoulders slightly shaking as he chuckles to himself.

“Come here!” you insist, reaching your hand out to him.

He leans down, wrapping an arm around your waist as you both squeeze in next to Paddington. He holds up his phone, angling it to get all three of you in the shot. You turn just as he takes the first picture, planting a kiss on his cheek.

You don’t care if someone in the crowd might see you, Dieter’s gone above and beyond to prove that he’ll protect you, more than anybody ever has.

Later that night, you can’t stop staring at the photos of you and Dieter with Paddington, it’s hard to deny that you look like two people in love.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 30

Dieter’s refused to tell you where you’re headed since you left the hotel. Your mind races with ideas until… the car pulls up to the entrance of the London Eye.

“Surprise Sweets,” he says, opening the door.

“Oh my god. We’re going on the Eye?” you ask, sliding across the leather and getting out of the warmth of the car. Your head tilted to take in the large ferris wheel.

He nods. “Not just that. Come on.”

An attendant greets Dieter by name and ushers you two past the waiting crowd. There’s a twinge of guilt as you bypass the line, you really have to get used to the life of a celebrity.

The attendant leads you to a private capsule, holding the door open as you step inside. The door seals, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in the pod.

A bottle of champagne sits on ice with two flutes, a large fuzzy blanket topped with pillows is spread across the floor, along with an assortment of flickering fake candles. But what really catches your eyes is the fancy tray filled with slices of cheddar cheese and crackers. Tears spring in your eyes, quickly falling when you close them in laughter. “Oh my god, you got me cheese and crackers. My favorite!”

“Of course I did,” he responds a wide smile matching yours.

The capsule begins its slow ascent. You turn to Dieter, your eyes shining with happiness. "This is incredible.”

“We have it for the rest of the night. You deserve it. All of it.”

He settles on the blanket and pops the champagne pouring two glasses. You join, snuggling close to him as he drapes an arm around you.

“Cheers,” he says, clinking his glass against yours.

“Cheers,” you smile as you watch Dieter reach for the tray and build you a cheese and cracker sandwich. He smiles as he holds it up to your lips with a lopsided grin. You feel like you’re in a fantasy, like one of those stories Dieter’s fans write about him when you take a bite and savor the buttery cracker and smooth, sharp cheddar. 

“Big Ben looks so cool up here,” you exclaim, as your pod ascends higher.

“It’s about to look cooler baby,” Dieter whispers against your ear as he pulls out a baggie full of dried mushrooms.

“Oh my god, I haven’t done shrooms since your birthday party a few years ago.”

“Mm,” he hums as he pulls out a small piece for you and puts it on a cheese topped cracker. “Here, drink some champagne to chase it, they’re not that great tasting.”

You do as he says, grimacing at the musty taste before gulping down a whole glass of champagne, welcoming the tingly bubbles. “This is ridiculous.”

Dieter takes a handful of shrooms and stuffs them into his mouth, happily chewing before winking at you. “You love it,” he says, pulling you close and wrapping the blanket tighter around you.

You really do.

—-

The pod sits atop the eye. You’re leaning forward looking out amongst the sparkling lights of London. “I feel like Peter Pan,” you muse, your warm breath hitting against the chilly glass.

He leans in close. “They say if you kiss someone at the top of the London Eye, you'll be together forever."

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” he hums, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Want to test that?”

You nod before you seal your mouth over his and kiss him. The pod gently descends as you both explore each other’s mouths, soft groans and whimpers, hands exploring each other’s body. 

You pull away, sighing when you see the station come into view.  “Oh my god. We’re already going down. It’s almost over.”

“No, it’s not baby,” he responds, kissing his way to your ear. “You forget, I have connections, we have this pod all night.”

“Ooooh, connections,” you mock.

He chuckles, shaking his head before he lifts you to sit on his lap, your back settling against his warm chest. He begins to tickle the spots on your sides, you’re kicking and laughing, as you squirm.

"Stop, stop!" you gasp, but he doesn't listen.

"Make me," he teases.

You twist in his lap, facing him before capturing his lips. His hands still immediately, moving to grip your waist instead. You smile against his mouth before pulling away beaming with a bright grin.

“Wow,” you exhale, your eyes wide. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy.”

“No Sweets, those are the shrooms.”

“No Dee, well, wait—yeah, but also you’ve made me so happy this week.”

His heart thuds against his chest, it’s all he’s ever wanted to do since that first night you called him heartbroken and alone in your home. He wanted to make you smile, make you laugh, help you heal.

“I’m glad baby, so glad.”

He can also feel the mushrooms starting to take effect, making everything feel dreamy and surreal. He lets himself get lost in it, blinking slowly as the lights of London blur and swirl outside the pod, but you—his Golden Girl—stays in focus. 

Your skin is glittering in the soft light, your hair shimmering. He reaches out to touch a strand, amazed at how silky it feels. You mimic him, reaching out to comb your fingers through the waves of his hair. 

“Your hair is so soft,” you admire dreamily. “Like a cloud.”

He chuckles, his eyes still closed, patterns whirling around his eyelids. “A cloud, huh?”

You giggle a light, airy sound. “Everything feels so light and… floaty."

He opens his eyes to see you staring at him. His sense of touch heightened as he slides his hand under your shirt, moving it higher to cup your breast over your bra, his cock hardening as you begin to grind against his lap. Suddenly, you pull away, cutting through the lust and psychedelic riddled haze. “Aren’t there cameras?”

He smiles reassuringly. “Not if you’re famous enough,” he says. “Remember baby, connections. But we still gotta be careful.”

Your eyes widen as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. It takes you zero time for you to shift in his lap, your fingers untying the drawstrings of his pants. 

He pushes your skirt up, bunching it around your waist when he groans a low, appreciative noise as his fingers brush against your pussy, feeling how wet you are through your panties. 

“Dee,” you sigh, rocking against his hand.

“I know, I know.”

He lifts you, hovering your soaked cunt over his hard cock. You stare, reaching down to pull your panties to the side, your dilated pupils turning into hypnotic spirals as you sink down onto his length, both of you groaning in unison. The feeling is indescribable - you wrap around him like your pussy was made for him, your body fusing with his.

You begin to move, rocking your hips slowly at first, his hands grip your skin, guiding you, moving you in a steady rhythm.

“You’re perfect,” he pants, unable to look away from your eyes. He can see a future with you in them. Happiness, love, acceptance.

The world outside the pod seems to fade away, it’s just him and you. Your pussy perfectly moving on top of him, your hands planted on his chest as you gently bounce.

Gravity disappears, clouds surround your bodies, the dark night sky twinkles in the distance, stars sparking and bursting. You are the center of his universe, your skin even more golden and radiant. Shining, glowing, glimmering all for him.

You’re panting, swirling your hips around his base as you grind. He rocks his hips up, matching your dripping cunt as he begins to pound into you.

He leans back on his palms, watching as you take him, your hips rolling, your tight pussy squeezing him as you chase your release.

“Fuuuuuck,” you cry, throwing your head back, lost in your pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful,” he grunts, feeling the familiar pulse of your pussy.

With a ringing cry, your orgasm beams through you. You’re lit from within, your skin shining metallic gold as you clench around his cock, squeezing him impossibly hard, your velvet fluttering pulling him closer into your orbit.

He is in awe of you, in love with you, and gasping your name as he cums. You’re shivering and smiling as he fills you, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you.

You giggle and nuzzle into his neck. “That was…”

“Fucking amazing,” he finishes, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

He holds you, feeling happier than he’s ever felt. He has to tell you he loves you, but sober. Damn the shrooms.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 31

The world outside the hotel suite is abuzz as London prepares to celebrate. Dieter doesn’t remember most New Year's midnight countdowns if he’s telling the truth.

Though he does remember one quite vividly. You and Warren hosted a NYE party shortly after you bought your house. You were the perfect host, floating around like June Cleaver, refilling drinks, laughing, and galavanting with friends. You were so happy, so hopeful. And when midnight came and Warren wrapped you in his arms and gave you a kiss, well, Dieter couldn’t look away. He’s a masochist like that sometimes.

Sure, he chastely kissed his date, before quickly pulling away just so he could watch the happy newlyweds cocooned in love’s warmth at midnight. It was so long ago, and now—now you’re here with him, cocooned under a blanket and nestled up next to him on the balcony. He can hardly believe his luck. 

“Wow, it’s almost midnight,” you muse. “What a year, huh?”

He turns to you, the lights of the city reflect in your eyes “You know, I’m proud of you,” he starts. “After everything… you amaze me.”

He watches you swallow past the lump in your throat as you gently nod. 

“And not just this year, through everything you’re still just as radiant and… golden.”

"Dee," you whisper. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands. "I think you’re the reason. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

The distant sounds of revelers in the streets below begin counting down the final seconds of the year.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

Dieter pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

His heart is racing, years of longing and unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface.

"Four! Three! Two!"

“I love you,” he breathes out, just as the crowd below shouts “One!”

Fireworks explode in the sky, but he barely notices as you pull away, your eyes gazing into his, a smile lighting your face. “I love you too.”

“Yeah?”

You kiss him. “Yeah.”

“Amazing.”

He pulls you into his lap as you both watch the fireworks from the privacy of his balcony.

You light up a joint, his heart beats against his chest as he watches the orange glow of the lighter and the bright flashes of fireworks shine across your skin. “Okay, am I dreaming?”

You chuckle. “No, we’re here… and I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck, I thought Christmas was good. New Years is way better.”

“Mm,” you hum. “Let’s make it better.”

You turn in his hold, straddling him. He’s already hard for you when you give him a tempting smile and open his robe.

“Dee?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to feel you inside me when you tell me you love me.”

He shivers at your words. His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your robe open.

"God, you're perfect," he breathes.

You rise up on your knees, positioning yourself over him before you slowly sink down onto him.

His whole body tenses before relaxing as your tight pussy surrounds him.

The fireworks continue to explode in the sky, the lights flashing across your skin as you begin to move. Your eyes, filled with awe and love, are locked on him.

He’s sure he’s uttered the words I love you to someone while fucking them before. Hell, he’s pretty sure under the drug and drink haze with Anika, he told her it a few times… but he knows he never truly felt it like this. But with you, now here, on top of him, your skin glowing against the backdrop of stars in the sky and random bursts of fireworks, he knows now this is making love.

"I love you," he whispers, gazing into your eyes. "God, I love you so much."

"I love you too.”

Your hips roll against his. Your mouth finds his. You’re moaning into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair.

You make love slowly, tenderly. There's no rush, no urgency - just the two of you connecting. Your lips never leaving the others.

He worships you, his Golden Girl. 

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

January 1

Dieter slowly stirs from sleep, his mind hazy, either from the leftover champagne and weed in his system or dreams. There’s something warm and tingly between his legs, a wet slurping noise alerts him and he blinks his eyes open. He looks down to see your head bobbing gently under the covers.

Your tongue swirls around the tip of his hardening cock before you take him deeper into your mouth as you massage his balls.

“Holy fuck sweets,” he gasps, throwing the blankets off his body. He almost cums when you’re revealed, your wide eyes looking up at him, his cock stuffed into your mouth. 

“Happy New Year,” you purr before licking a trail down the thick vein along his cock. His head falls back against the pillow, a low groan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He feels the vibration of your sweet giggle against his cock before you murmur “I love you too” against him.

“Come here baby, come here,” he says, reaching and pulling you up his body. He kisses you, his tongue licking at yours.

He can feel the heat of you as you straddle him, his cock aches to feel the slick he knows you’re leaking out for him.

His hand snakes down to grip himself and rub against your wet cunt, you moan against his mouth as he teases you, sliding his cock through your slick folds. You’re whimpering against him, rocking your hips to try to take him inside.

He sucks on your tongue, just as he notches himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You both moan before you both stay still, relishing in the feel of each other.

He’ll never tire of how it feels to have you this way.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you begin to move, rolling your hips in a slow rhythm before you sit up. He looks down, watching his cock disappear into you as you lift yourself up and sink back down on him. You stare at him as you reach for his hand, bringing a finger to your mouth and sucking it.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, sitting up and pushing his broad chest against yours, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you deeply, as you melt into the heat of his body.

He’s buried deep inside you, neither of you moving. He stays like that, savoring the feel of his cock enveloped in the heat of you, pulsing within your tight, wet pussy.

He runs his hands across the plains of your back, tracing the curve of your spine as his tongue tangles with yours.

You card your fingers through his messy hair, tugging gently.

He holds you tight as he begins moving inside you, groaning against your mouth, he’s so drunk off your pussy he feels like the room around him is swirling, his mouth drooling. He’ll never get enough of touching you, feeling every dip and curve of the body he’s craved for years.

You break the kiss, throwing your head back after he thrusts deep into you. He takes the opportunity to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nipping.

“God damn baby,” he whispers against your collarbone. He can feel you getting close, you’re clenching him, your ragged breaths panting into the air.

He licks his way up to your neck, his tongue tracing and swirling around the rapid pulse there. Your fingers dig into his shoulder as you grind against him. You’re so close, you’re trembling in his arms, your sweet pussy fluttering with need.

He grips your hips, guiding you to ride him faster, to take him for everything he has.

“Oh god, Dee,” you gasp.

“I love you,” he rasps.

“I love you too,” you whimper.

He almost cums right there, but he makes himself hold back and not give in, determined to make you fall apart first.

“Fuuuuck,” he drawls. “Let me feel your pussy cum for me baby,”

That’s your undoing, he feels you tighten around him, your walls squeezing him as you orgasm.

“Oh god,” you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He holds you tight, feeling every quiver and pulse of your body as you tense all over and release.

He doesn’t let up his pace, thrusting into your soaked cunt, letting your ride out your high before you collapse against him, your lips pressed against his shoulder. 

“I love you,” you whisper, lifting your head, your eyes hazy and soft, with a dreamy smile on your lips. 

That does it for him. He grips you tightly, pulling you down onto him as he thrusts up hard, his cock pumping inside you. “Oh fuck, I love you,” he groans, filling you with his cum.

Dieter falls back onto the soft mattress, carrying you with him. He’s still inside you, relishing in the warmth. He can feel the beat of your heart against his own.

You lift your head, he reaches up, gently cupping your face, rubbing his thumb across your skin. “You’re so beautiful. My golden girl.”

—-

Peace. That’s the overwhelming emotion you feel as Dieter’s chest is pressed firm against your back as the two of you watch Simpsons reruns in the giant hotel bed. The setting sun is shining in through the windows, though you have no idea what time it is. All sense of it lost by being wrapped in Dieter’s arms all day.

The room service cart that sits just outside the bedroom door is piled high with dirty dishes. Today has been perfect, indulging in only each other.

Your hands lightly pet the dark hair of his forearms wrapped tightly around you, and when you lightly graze your nails across his skin he lets out a slight groan into your ear. The sound goes straight to your core.

You stretch languidly, loosening your muscles soar from the hours spent in bed kissing, fucking, and laughing. You push your ass against Dieter firmer, wiggling it slightly.

“Baby,” he lowly whispers. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Burn me baby,” you giggle.

He flips you over, and climbs over you. “That was so fucking cheesy,” he says against your lips before kissing them. “I love it.”

He trails kisses down your neck, peppering them across your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breasts. His wide brown eyes staring into yours as his tongue darts out to swirl around your nipple before he takes it into his mouth.

He continues his journey downward, his plush lips ghosting over your ribs, your stomach, your hip bone. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to lift his head to look at you. His eyes meet yours, questioning.

"No, really," you breathe. "Burn me. Make me feel you."

His eyes widen slightly before he nods.

He knows what you mean, tomorrow you leave. Today, time doesn’t exist. Today is only you and him, in this bedroom luxuriating in only each other. But tomorrow, you get on a plane, going home to only silence and yourself.

He grasps your thighs, spreading them wide, and stares down at you, his hand gripping his cock as he pumps himself until he’s standing tall and proud for you. He lifts your legs over his broad shoulders and slaps his cock against your cunt before he buries himself to the hilt in you.

You cry out high and needy, as he grunts low and satisfied. He waits for a breath, stretching you, letting you adjust before he pulls back and slams into you again. He makes it burn, his hips snapping against yours.

You can’t stop staring at how beautiful he is as he pounds into you, his face set in concentration, jaw clenched tight and nostrils flaring.

Your hands roam over your slick, sweaty skin, your nails raking across your breasts, pulling and pinching as he fucks you.

"Fuck, you always feel so fuckin’-ahh-good,” he groans as he pulls out and then thrusts back in.

He leans heavily against you, your knees meeting your chest as he folds you in half, the weight of him crushing you deliciously.

“Harder,” you plead.

He growls low in his throat, burying his face in your neck. Rough, deep thrusts pound against your cunt.

The flames in your core grow warmer, spreading across your body, but just as you feel the familiar flames lick across your skin, Dieter pulls out of you. You whimper at the loss, but before you can even say anything, he rolls you onto your side and lays down behind you. His slick chest meeting your slick back.

His cock nudges between your thighs. "Lift your leg for me, baby.”

You muster the strength and comply, draping your leg over his hip. He reaches down, guiding himself back into your wet cunt.

His arm snakes under you, wrapping around your chest to cup your breast. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he begins to move. Slow, deep thrusts that have you gasping and arching back against him.

"That's it," he breathes, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

The angle reignites the flames as they spread across your body. You turn your head, seeking his mouth with yours. He meets you, his lips firm as you gasp into his mouth.

He holds you tight, grinding against you before thrusting deep. 

His hand slides down from your hip, dipping between your legs. His thick finger rubs your clit, making you gasp and cry. You’re writhing in Dieter’s hold, so close to your release, pulse beating, fire roaring. Your tongues and moans tangle as your orgasm consumes you. Your hands fist in the sheets, tears prick at your eyes as you let the blaze overtake you.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, against your lips. “You’re squeezing me so tight baby.”

“Fuck me," you muster out, leaning forward and pressing his cock deeper inside.

Your cunt is still quivering around him as he slides his cock out and back in. He grips your hips, lifting a leg up on the bed to gain better leverage. Each stroke sends an aftershock through your body.

“I love this pussy,” he pants as he fucks into you harder and faster, chasing his release.

You whimper in response, overwhelmed by him as his movements become frenzied, his hips snapping against you with desperate urgency. He feels so tense behind you, the sound of his wet body slapping against your wet body sounds so depraved and so perfect.

"Oh god, baby," he moans. "I'm gonna cum. Fuck, you feel so good."

“Please,” you whimper, reaching back to wrap a hand into his hair and pull tight.

He lets out a loud, long groan of your name when he cums. His sharp nose pressed against your neck, his lips against your shoulder, tasting the salty sweetness of your skin.

The flames still sit within you, lit by Dieter’s love and the feel of his cock softly throbbing inside you.

—-

He can’t sleep, and you can’t either. The end hour is rapidly approaching. He spends the night watching you exist next to him. The way your face looks in the low light of the TV, the sound of your laughter when you giggle at one of Homer’s antics, the feel of your body against his. Fuck, he’s going to miss you so much.

Twenty more days, twenty more days. You can do this.

For years, he’s felt like a fuck up, just some random guy with a cool name who stumbled into being famous. Sure, he’s a good actor… he supposes. He's been called a lot of things over the years - heartthrob, bad boy, party animal, has-been. But with you, he was always just Dee… and now he knows he’s so much more to you.

Since that day you called him, heartbroken and alone, because Warren wasted the most precious thing… everything has shifted. The constant restlessness that used to plague him has settled. The nagging emptiness that drove him to seek oblivion in willing partners, drugs and alcohol has been filled.

You’re all he’s ever wanted, and now he has you… at least until you catch your flight in fifteen hours.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

January 2

You dream of Dieter, a familiar dream you’ve had for years before. The sight of his fluffy hair between your legs, the feel of his tongue against your pussy. But this time it feels different, it feels… real.

Your core is wet with need, a heavy weight settled between your legs. A long moan escapes your lips when you feel a thick tongue against your cunt.

Your eyes flutter open, blinking the sleep away from them. When you look down, you’re greeted by the most beautiful sight - Dieter’s mess of waves nestled between your thighs.

You must still be dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time your subconscious has conjured up this scenario. Usually you just roll over and try to go back to bed or get up and take a shower, but this time the wet slide of Dieter’s tongue tells you this is real.

“Dee,” you breathe out, reaching down to hold his hands as they grip your thighs.

He groans against your pussy, slightly lifting his head to leave a kiss against your thigh.

“Good morning Sweets,” he smiles before diving back in and leaving a slow circle traced against your clit.

You’re soaked for him, your hips bucking as one of your fantasies becomes your reality.

He seals his mouth over your clit, sucking it sweetly between his lips. A high pitched-moan escapes you as he licks his way down to your entrance, diving his tongue in, lapping up your slick.

He gets you nice and wet, before he slides his two thick fingers in, slowly pumping inside you, twisting them deliciously around your entrance. Your head thuds back on the pillow, a high pitched keen of his name echoing in the room.

He licks you right to the edge of your early morning orgasm, thighs trembling, chest heaving, your hands grabbing at the soft tendrils of his hair. He angles his fingers just right, causing your body to tighten and slacken as a shockwave of bliss flows through you. You’re quivering for him as you gasp for air, Dieter’s tongue between your legs awakening you in the best possible way.

“That’s it baby,” he encourages, his warm breath against your heated skin.

Dieter doesn’t stop, he eases you through your orgasm before he builds you up all over again, this time pushing a third finger into your tight channel. He watches you under hooded eyes as he licks and sucks against your clit, thrusting his thick fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Your heart is pounding against your chest as you stare wide eyed at him happily devouring you.

You’re writhing on the sheets, your hands fisting the soft fabric as he hums against you, the vibrations bringing your second orgasm crashing into you quick and intense. He plants a hand on your stomach, sealing you down to the bed, his tongue and fingers overwhelming you as warmth spreads through your limbs.

"Dee, oh god," you pant as you catch your breath, his plush lips leaving wet kisses along your inner thighs, occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin.

Your heart rate begins to slow, your limbs stretching out and relaxing… just as Dieter dives back in, his tongue parting your folds.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

He pulls away, a wicked grin lifting his beautiful mouth. “Grab the phone. Order us some breakfast.”

Your hand fumbles for the hotel phone on the nightstand, nearly knocking it over when he rapidly dashes his tongue against your swollen clit. You manage to press the button for room service, trying to keep your voice steady as Dieter eats your pussy.

“G-good morning,” you stammer. “I’d like to order some breakfast-nyugh-please.”

Dieter’s tongue circles your clit, making you bite back a moan.

"Two omelettes please," you continue, your voice slightly strained. "One with mushrooms and cheese, the other with - oh!"

Dieter chooses that moment to suck hard on your clit, nearly making you drop the phone.

"The other with ham and peppers," you finish quickly.

“Mimosas,” Dieter says against your pussy, refusing to pull away before he licks a firm, slow lick against your clit.

"And… two… mimosas pleeease,” you add when his tongue swirls around your clit. Your free hand gripping Dieter’s hair.

You barely manage to confirm the order and hang up before Dieter’s crawling up your body. 

“How long?” he asks, nuzzling his sharp nose into your neck.

“They said about fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect,” he grits as he sheathes himself inside you.

—-

The moment you’ve been dreading arrives. Packing your suitcase. Dieter sits on the bed, attempting to fold a pile of clothes for you.

He lets out a sad sigh every time he places a terribly folded garment next to him.

He fumbles with the soft fabric of one of your sweaters, his rings clattering against one another as he creates more wrinkles.

"Here, let me show you," you say gently, taking the sweater from him. You demonstrate how to fold it neatly. Dieter watches intently, his eyes following your hands.

"Like this?" he asks, picking up another sweater and mimicking your technique.

You laugh at this terrible attempt.

“No,” you say, taking the sweater from him and kissing his cheek. "How about you just watch me?”

“Oh thank god, I fuckin’ hate folding.”

“I can tell.”

You continue packing in comfortable silence, each item placed in your suitcase makes your heart sink lower.

As you carefully place the charm bracelet Dieter gave you in your jewelry case, he clears his throat.

"So, um, what are your plans when you get back?" he asks.

You pause, your hand lingering on the charm bracelet, your finger tracing the shape of it. .

"I'm not sure," you admit softly. “I think I want to look into maybe getting a job at a flower shop. I was thinking, now that I’ll no longer have, uh, Warren’s help. I need to figure something out.”

There’s a bit of shame to your voice. You gave Warren the prime years of your life, and you allowed him to take them for his gain.

“That’s good baby, you have such a talent. What about your own shop?”

You bark out a loud laugh. “I don’t even know how I’m going to afford my fucking house, Dee. You’re already doing more than I could ever ask for, helping me with the lawyer.”

His eyes round in guilt and you instantly feel foolish, you both already have enough to deal with today, as the trip to Heathrow looms over the hotel suite.

You shut your jewelry box, placing it in your suitcase before walking over to him and sitting in his lap. “Don’t worry Dee, I’ll figure it out.”

“With my help.”

“With some of your help.”

His arms wrap around you tighter and you want to ask him about his plans, about what happens next for the two of you, but you're afraid to burst this bubble you've been living in.

"Back to filming tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "It'll be… so different without you here."

“God, I’m going to mi—”

He cuts you off with a kiss. “I know,” he whispers. “Me too.”

You cling to him, breathing in his scent—weed, coffee, and eucalyptus—trying to memorize the feel of his arms around you.

“Twenty days,” he whispers.

—-

Heathrow comes into view and he wills the car to miss the turn to departures. It doesn’t work. Soft sniffles and little gasps escape your mouth, he knows tears are already in your eyes, as hard as you try to hide them behind your sunglasses.

The car pulls up to the curb. No. It can’t be the end, but when the driver opens the door and the sharp, bitter cold breeze of the night hits him, his heart sinks as he realizes this is it.

He slides across the leather, feeling each reluctant movement of his body as he gets out.

He grabs your hand to help you out, his jaw drops when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks.

He pulls you in for a hug. “You can always stay,” he whispers in your ear.

“I know, but I-I can’t. I need to… figure things out back home,” you say, your voice muffled against his chest. “Continue getting my life in order.”

He nods, understanding but hating it all the same. He knows you now have your freedom, regained your independence and he never wants to be the one to hold you back.

“Twenty days,” you remind him softly.

“And then I’ll be back in LA and I’ll be there to help you figure it all out. Together.”

“Together,” you nod, managing a small smile.

He leans in, kissing you tenderly as you wrap your arms around him, clinging to him, knowing it’s the last time for nearly three weeks.

"I love you," he whispers. "So fucking much."

"I love you too."

He wraps his brown fuzzy coat tighter around you and leaves a soft kiss against your forehead before you pull away with great reluctance.

He watches you walk away from him, the chill of London rasps against his skin, while the emptiness of his heart makes him ache all over. He wouldn’t trade this pain for anything in the world.

—-

When Dieter first booked your ticket, you scoffed at the idea of first class, relenting over and over that you didn’t need any special care… but now as you’re settled in your own small pod with a couple walls that give you a sense of privacy, you’re very thankful for his generosity. Your eyes are swollen and red, your head is pounding, you feel your heart breaking with each minute that passes. So this is what it feels like to really be in love.

The flight attendant comes by, offering you a glass of champagne. You accept it gratefully, hoping it might help dull the ache in your chest.

You can’t help yourself when you pull your phone out, scrolling through the photos from your time in London.

Dieter and you grinning widely next to Paddington Bear. The two of you bundled up on the London Eye, the lights of the city twinkling behind you. Dieter’s dopey smile in the Harrod’s dressing room holding up the ripped pair of panties. A selfie in bed, your hair messy, faces glowing in a post-sex haze, his hand resting on your breast. 

You're smiling through your tears as you swipe through the photos, reliving each moment. The last one makes your heart ache - a selfie Dieter took of you sleeping, his arm wrapped around you, your head tucked under his chin. You look so peaceful, so content. For years, you lied to yourself that you had that feeling of love, warmth, and protection. You feel like the ache in your chest is going to swallow you whole as you realize just how much you already miss him.

Dieter just gave you the most magical ten days of your life.

—-

He avoids making his way back up to the hotel room. He sits in the bar, slowly sipping a glass of whiskey. The low lights turn everything golden and warm, yet he feels empty and cold, the bitter alcohol burning his throat. He hasn’t felt this pit of sadness in years, but he knows it’s worth it, because to miss you in the way he does now, means he finally has you. After years of longing and pining, you’re his.

He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. Twenty days. He can do this. You both can.

The bartender approaches, gesturing to his nearly empty glass. "Another, sir?"

Dieter shakes his head, declining another drink. With a long sigh, he settles his tab and makes his way up to the now-empty hotel suite.

The silence hits him as soon as he opens the door. No more laughter, no more of your soft humming as you get ready for bed. Just stillness.

Though, there are still signs of you through the space. Your favorite mug is still sitting on the counter. One of your hair ties left on the bathroom counter. The bottle of your favorite lotion is still sitting on the nightstand, right next to your water glass.

He picks up the lotion, opening it to smell the scent of you as he sits on the edge of the bed. He pulls out his phone, opening the photo he took of you and him this morning, sitting in bed toasting each other with mimosas.

He stares at the photo. Your hair is tousled and sleep rumpled. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders while the sheets are bunched up around your chest, barely concealing your body. Your eyes are bright and your smile wide as you clink your glass against his.

He wishes he could taste the orange juice and champagne on your lips again.

He can’t help himself, he knows the next picture, his thumb swipes across the screen. In this one, the sheet has slipped down, exposing the swell of your breasts. 

He swipes to the next photo and he exhales a deep sigh. His face is nestled between your breasts, your skin glowing in the soft morning light. Your fingers tangled in his messy hair. He can almost feel the softness of your skin against his cheek, he yearns for it.

Dieter feels a warmth spreading through his body as he swipes to the next photo. This one makes his cock twitch - his mouth latched onto your nipple, cheeks hollowed as he sucks. His eyes are locked on the camera, dark with mischief and lust. One of your hands is gripping his hair tightly. Your head his tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted in a soft gasp.

Right after this picture, he tossed the phone on the bedside table and fucked you.  

An idea lights in his mind as he sends the photos to you. It’ll be a nice surprise for you when you land.

A remembrance of this morning. Miss you like crazy. Call me when you can, even if it wakes me. i love you

—-

The plane touches down on the tarmac at LAX, sadness washes over you as it taxis to the gate. Soon, you’ll be home, far away from Dieter’s arms.

You make your way through customs in a tired daze, the harsh fluorescent lights of the airport seem to only amplify your exhaustion. You miss the gray London skies.

Finally, you collect your luggage and step out into the warm Los Angeles night air. It feels almost unreal to be back home now… especially when it feels like Dieter is your home and he’s over 5,000 miles away.

As you wait for your Uber, you dig your phone out of your purse and power it on for the first time since leaving London. A flood of notifications immediately pops up on the screen. Your heart skips a beat when you see several texts from Dieter.

With a soft smile, you open his texts first. Your breath catches as you pull your phone closer and swipe through the photos from your last morning together. You ache to feel his touch again. Twenty days suddenly feels too long to bear, but you tell yourself you’ll get through it. Dieter’s worth the wait.

You're still smiling at Dieter's sweet message when another text notification pops up. Your heart leaps into your throat as you see the name: Warren.

There’s a photo of you and Dieter… a selfie you took of the two of you on the balcony a couple mornings ago. Welcome home. Looks like you had a lot of fun in London. We should talk. 

✨✨✨

A/N: OH MY GOD, RIGHT?!?!! I don't wish the long distance relationship goodbye at the airport departure curb on anyone. I may have shed a tear or two while writing that scene.

✨✨✨

Perma tagging: @schnarfer @mothandpidgeon @ohheypedrito Tagging some friends and lovers of GG (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @sawymredfox, @secretelephanttattoo, @galway-girlatwork, @whatumuhcallit, @chronically-ghosted @copperhalfcent, @jessthebaker, @moel-jiller, @sunnytuliptime, @jokesonthem @lotusbxtch, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, @flawssy-227, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @littlemisspascal @cas-readsandwrites, @wave0fg00dvibes, @rulexofxnines, @tuquoquebrute, @littlevenicebitch69 @readingiskeepingmegoing, @marissa47, @amyispxnk, @peepawispunk, @ishabull ✨

[little-jana]

"A Love in Code"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: mutual pining, kinda slow-burn, kissing

Summary: On Valentine’s Day a secret admirer starts leaving you coded messages, book quotes, and thoughtful gifts.

a/n: it's really similar to my other Spencer Valentine’s fic, but I just loved the idea sooo much. I had to write another one! Enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 🌷💝

February 14th – 8:12 AM

You weren’t expecting much for Valentine’s Day.

Sure, the BAU was like a family, and someone (probably Penelope) would bring in heart-shaped cookies. But you hadn’t planned anything special for yourself.

That changed the moment you arrived at your desk.

Sitting on your keyboard was a small, folded note with your name on it.

You frowned, glancing around. Everyone was going about their morning routine—JJ sipping coffee, Derek chatting with Emily, Spencer flipping through a book. No one seemed to be watching you.

Curious, you opened the note.

“When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.” – Arrigo Boito

Your breath caught.

A love quote? From who?

“Whatcha got there?” JJ appeared beside you, peeking over your shoulder.

You quickly folded the note. “Nothing! Just… something from a friend.”

JJ raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “A special friend?”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart raced.

A secret admirer? Could it really be possible?

And if so… who?

10:45 AM

The second surprise came just before the team’s briefing.

You returned from the breakroom to find a small book sitting on your chair. Pride and Prejudice.

Your heart pounded as you picked it up. Tucked inside the front cover was another note.

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” – Mr. Darcy

Your face burned.

Okay. This was real.

“Wow,” Emily said, appearing beside you. “Whoever this is, they know their romance novels.”

You forced a laugh, scanning the room. Spencer was flipping through his own book, not paying you any mind. Derek was smirking like he knew something.

Your mind raced.

Could it be… Spencer?

No. That was ridiculous.

Right?

2:30 PM

You spent most of the afternoon trying (and failing) to focus on work. Every time you thought about the notes, your heart fluttered.

Then, just as you returned from lunch, another surprise appeared on your desk.

A small box of chocolates.

Your hands shook as you picked up the attached note.

“All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.” – Charles M. Schulz

Your stomach flipped.

“Alright,” Penelope declared, marching over. “I need to know who’s making you blush like that.”

You groaned. “I don’t know!”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, you definitely have a guess.”

You bit your lip.

Spencer.

It had to be him. The literary quotes, the thoughtful gifts—it all screamed Spencer.

But why would he keep it a secret?

Unless…

He was scared.

Just like you.

5:00 PM

You were packing up to leave when Spencer appeared at your desk.

“Hey,” he said, his voice slightly hesitant.

You smiled, trying to act normal. “Hey, Spence. What’s up?”

He shifted on his feet. “I, uh… I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee?”

Your heart pounded. “Coffee?”

He nodded. “I mean, if you don’t have plans, of course. I just thought… we could talk.”

Your pulse thrummed in your ears.

This was it.

You swallowed hard, then smiled. “I’d love to.”

6:15 PM – The Coffee Shop

The café was quiet, bathed in the soft hum of conversation and the gentle clinking of cups against saucers. The scent of roasted coffee lingered in the air, but you barely noticed it.

Spencer sat across from you, fingers tapping restlessly against his cup. The nervous energy rolling off him was something you weren’t used to—he was always so composed, even when discussing the most horrific cases.

But now, he looked… hesitant. Uncertain.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before pulling out the small stack of notes from your bag and placing them on the table between you.

“Spencer,” you said softly. “Was it you?”

His gaze dropped to the familiar handwriting on the notes.

He stilled.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. His lips parted slightly, his fingers tightening around the ceramic of his coffee cup. His mind was working through a million thoughts, you could tell—trying to calculate the best response, the least damaging outcome.

But there was only one truth.

His shoulders rose with a deep inhale, and then, finally, he met your eyes.

“I wanted to tell you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t know how.”

Your breath hitched.

“Spencer…” you prompted, leaning forward. “Why didn’t you just say something?”

He let out a soft, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Because I was scared. I’m not—” He paused, licking his lips. “I’m not good at things like this. I’ve spent my whole life being better with numbers and facts than with people. And you… you’re the exception to every rule I’ve ever known.”

Your heart squeezed.

“The exception?” you echoed.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, his nerves unraveling before your eyes. “I thought if I told you, it would ruin everything. You’re my best friend. And I was terrified of losing that, of making things complicated. But I also—” He let out a shaky breath. “I couldn’t not tell you.”

Your fingers trembled against the notes as you absorbed his words.

He had felt the same fear you had.

The same hesitation, the same nervous energy that had been plaguing you for months.

He had been scared of losing you.

The weight of it all crashed over you like a tidal wave, and suddenly, every glance, every stolen moment, every lingering touch between you over the years took on a new meaning.

Spencer Reid—the man who saw the world through logic and numbers, who feared unpredictability and chaos—had been in love with you all along.

Your throat tightened. “Spence…”

He swallowed hard, his hazel eyes filled with a quiet vulnerability. “I love you,” he confessed, the words escaping like an exhale he’d been holding in for far too long. “I think I’ve loved you for longer than I even realized. I just—” He shook his head. “I didn’t know how to say it until now.”

Your breath caught.

A warmth spread through your chest, replacing every doubt, every fear, every moment of uncertainty you had carried for so long.

Because you knew.

You knew that this—this man sitting in front of you, the one who had left you quotes from classic literature and chocolates and poetry—he was it.

He was everything.

You didn’t hesitate.

Reaching across the table, you laced your fingers with his. His hand was warm, slightly trembling, but he didn’t pull away.

“I love you too,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips as naturally as breathing. “I have for so long, but I—” You shook your head, laughing softly at yourself. “I guess we’re both kind of idiots, huh?”

A slow, brilliant smile spread across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess we are.”

The warmth of his hand against yours sent electricity up your spine, and suddenly, sitting across from him wasn’t enough.

You stood, heart racing, and Spencer followed suit without hesitation. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation—just an unspoken understanding as you met him halfway, closing the space between you.

Your hands moved to his face, fingers brushing along his sharp jawline. His own hands settled at your waist, hesitant but firm.

And then, you kissed him.

It was soft at first—a gentle meeting of lips, like the first note of a song waiting to be played. But then he responded, tilting his head, deepening the kiss just enough to make your heart stutter.

His fingers curled into your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and for the first time in forever, you weren’t overthinking a single thing.

You just let yourself feel.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and lightheaded, Spencer rested his forehead against yours, a small, incredulous laugh escaping him.

“I can’t believe it took me this long,” he murmured.

You grinned, brushing your thumb along his cheek. “Better late than never, Dr. Reid.”

He huffed a laugh. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your lips.

You smiled.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Spence.”

And as you stood there in the dimly lit café, hands still tangled together, you knew—this was the start of something extraordinary.

Something that had been written in the stars all along.

[rosesrotofficial]

the killer chat serials lovers have a gift for you this valentine's! ❤️

want a love letter from your killer chat! lover? how about a romantic fic? 👀 donate to my vday bundles on itch now and get yourself some serial killer loving this vday! <3

support the team’s work and you can get:

♥️ love letters!

🎨 art!

🔪 stories! 

🎙 you can even hear misaki, v and angel’s love letters read out by the voice actors!! 

this option will not be available for ronin due to the video game strike (find out more about the strike here!) but we have an exclusive ronin art option to compensate!

check out the bundles here!

i’d love for these to be free, but game dev is expensive! i'm so grateful for how much you have helped me so much to support the team so far, so to say thanks i will also be sharing a special valentine’s gift to my patreon/ko-fi rotterlings soon!

love rosesrot xx

[dykeforhire]

Valentines Special

Emily Prentiss x reader (no mention of pronouns)

Summary: It's Valentine's Day, so you and Emily have a date night. And Emily looks so good you simply cannot resist.

Warnings: 18+ smut (sex while driving), no mentions of y/n in this one.

Word count: 4k

Available on ao3

Masterlist

A/n: I decided i wanted to give you guys a little Valentines Day gift, so here!! Also, the outfit in this fic is inspired by the one she has on in that picture cuz she looks so good and I needed more of it.

…

“Hey, hon? Are you almost ready? The reservation is at 6.” You holler from outside the bathroom door, buttoning the last bit of your shirt, leaving the top two undone.

“Yeah, just a second!” Emily responds. You hear a few muffled banging sounds from behind the door and assume she's just putting away her hairdryer and other toiletries.

Slipping on a pair of boots, you sit at the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom door so that when Emily finally emerges, you’ll be the first thing she sees.

Hearing the familiar click of the lock, you raise your eyes, watching as she steps through the door. Immediately, your heart is pounding in your chest. Emily is always effortlessly beautiful, but God, does she look absolutely magnificent right now.

Her figure is clad in a tight black dress, hugging her curves in all the right places. The neckline dips just low enough to show a hint of cleavage, and the hem of the skirt rests just above her knees.

You’re practically breathless as your eyes travel the expanse of her skin, soaking in every little detail.

“Wow…” you whisper, your gaze following her as she pads over to the closet, choosing a pair of heels and slipping them on.

“Yeah? You like?” Emily quips, her brow arching as she stands and walks towards you. Her hips swaying suggestively with each step.

“Like? Baby… I love it. But, Jesus Christ, if we didn’t have this stupid reservation, I’d be ripping that thing right off.” Your hands reach out, trailing over the curve of her belly and down to her hip bones, caressing the flesh with your thumbs as she steps in between your spread legs. 

“Hmm, well…” her fingers thread into your hair at the base of your head, scratching softly against your scalp. “If you’re behaved, maybe I’ll take you up on that later.” Emily hums, pulling your head to rest against her abdomen.

You press a kiss just below her belly button and wrap your arms around her thighs, not so sneakily grabbing a handful of her ass as you do so.

Emily yelps, swatting your hands away. You chuckle as she shoves at your shoulder, stepping away as you fall dramatically backward onto the mattress.

“Naughty…” Emily groans, turning and heading towards the dresser to finish accessorizing. Sliding her watch onto her wrist and clasping on her necklace.

“But you look sooo good.” You whine, rolling onto your side and giving Emily a ridiculous pout as you stare at her reflection in the mirror.

“Well thank you, but keep those hands to yourself until after dinner.” She locks eyes with you, smiling softly before spinning back around to face you properly.

“I will try… but no promises.” You smirk, shamelessly checking her out once again. Emily scoffs, making her way over to the bed and pulling you from it.

Once standing, she pulls you in gently, slotting her lips between yours slowly and passionately. You hum into the kiss, arms sliding around her waist and pulling her flush to your body. 

After a moment, Emily pulls away, placing one last peck on your bottom lip before leaning back to look you in the eyes. 

You inhale deeply as you rest your forehead against hers, breathing her in. You can smell the faint essence of mint on her breath, and the fresh layer of her perfume permeating in the air.

“You kill me.” You state matter-of-factly, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. Emily grins proudly at your words. 

What she does to you is no secret, not that you’ve ever tried to hide it. She’s gorgeous and undeniably sexy, and you want nothing more than to make sure she knows it. 

“Alright, Casanova… let’s go.” Emily tugs on your hand, leading you out of the bedroom and out to the foyer.

“I’ll drive.” You grab your car keys from the hook next to the front door before unlocking it, opening it just wide enough for Emily to step through.

“Oh, why thank you! how chivalrous.” She flirts, patting your chest as she brushes past you.

You shoot her a wink, closing the door and locking it back up before rushing ahead to open the car door.

“I’m starting to think you have some ulterior motive here…” Emily eyes you curiously as she slides into the passenger seat.

“Whaaat… never.” You roll your eyes, swooping down to kiss her forehead before closing the door and getting in the driver's seat.

“Sure, love.” Emily looks at you with sparkling eyes, her arm resting in the center console while her hand hangs preemptively near the shifter for you to hold once you’re situated. 

Starting up the car and taking her hand in yours, you pull it up to your lips, pressing a string of kisses over her knuckles to her wrist before placing your connected hands on her lap and backing out of the driveway.

… 

The drive to the restaurant is serene. 

Music playing quietly on the stereo, the evening sun casting its bright and warm rays through the windows, the feeling of Emily’s soothing thumb dusting over your fingers.

Arriving at the establishment, you urge Emily to stay in her seat before rushing to the passenger side and opening the door for her once again. Emily smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek as she steps out.

Intertwining your fingers and wrapping your arm around her waist, you pull her into your side as you walk towards the entrance. Squeezing her into a hug so tight that a grunt is forced out, a giggle follows shortly after. 

Once inside, the host guides both of you toward your seats. The table for two is directly in front of a large window overlooking a quaint marina. The evening breeze ripples the water, reflecting a caustic network over the ceiling. 

Emily grins at you from across the table as she takes a seat, and you shoot her one back.

You both decide on your meals fairly quickly, settling for something familiar and ordering an appetizer and drinks for the wait. In the meantime, conversation between the two of you flows easily. With Emily’s work keeping her in a near-constant state of busyness, and yours doing just about the same, there is always something new to discuss. 

Emily prefers to spare you the gruesome details of her work, but she loves talking about the shenanigans she and the team get up to, and all the good parts of the job like when a child is reunited with their family. 

When the food arrives, you both take your time, savoring the mingling flavors as they coat your tongue. Once finished, you decide on a dessert, splitting a sundae.

Emily reaches across the table, wiping a smudge of chocolate from the corner of your mouth with her thumb. Smirking, she brings it to her lips, slipping the finger inside, and sucking the chocolate from it.

The sight sends a shockwave straight through you, settling deep in your gut. You groan as you watch her lips wrap around the digit deliciously, silently wishing that it be your own instead.

“You tease…” you lean back in your chair, folding your arms over your chest. 

“I haven’t done a thing.” Emily shakes her head. Her voice, low as she mirrors your position, biting at her thumbnail.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, Prentiss.” The toe of your boot grazes her ankle beneath the table, her breath hitching as the cool leather comes into contact with her bare skin.

“Look who’s talking…” Emily shifts in her seat, kicking your foot away from her.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” You roll your eyes, kicking her back with half the amount of force.

Emily smirks again before scooping up the last bit of sundae and swallowing it. You watch her throat bob as it goes down, resisting the urge to lean forward and press your lips against the skin.

The waiter brings the check shortly after, beating Emily to the punch, you whip your card out and hand it to the young man. Emily practically growls at you, her face contorting into a deep, somewhat hilarious scowl.

“Love, come on… you don’t have to pay for the whole thing.” She tilts her head at you, arching a brow.

“I just wanted to treat you today… it is Valentine’s Day after all…” you reach out and take her hand in your own, squeezing it. “Especially after that lovely gift you gave me this morning…”

Emily flushes at the suggestive comment, ducking her head to the side. Your eyes catch the faint purple mark etched into the skin just below her ear. A remnant of said gift, consisting of a little breakfast in bed, then a proper homemade breakfast in the kitchen.

You’ve never been big on receiving gifts, but when it comes to giving them you’re all for it. You live to spoil Emily; in your mind, she deserves the world and so much more. 

So when she decided to wake you up this morning with feather-light kisses and a hand inching between your legs, followed by the whispered promise of an orgasm and chocolate chip pancakes, you gladly accepted and officially made it your mission to make sure the rest of the day all about Emily.

The waiter returns fairly quickly with the card, and you both decide to bask in the final moments of the sunset over the water. Emily toys with the ring on your finger as you do so, a silver band that matches the one she wears around her neck.

Rings that promise you to each other even when you’re physically apart. Emily had cried when you gave her the band on your anniversary the year prior, the mess of words that spewed from you more so affecting her than the ring itself. 

You promised her your ever-eternal love and support, that she is and forever will be your one true salvation in life. You had cried too.

You turn to Emily in the moment of silence, studying her.  The typical rich amber of her eyes is nearly charcoal, and her skin is cast in a bluish tint from the darkening sky.

“I love you, Emily.” 

Emily turns to you in response, emotion prominent in her waterline. She picks up your clasped hands from the table, cupping your palm over her cheek and kissing your wrist.

“And I love you. So much. More than I’ll ever be able to express.” She smiles softly, the shell of her ears growing red as she tries to stifle the growing swell inside her.

“How about we get out of here?” You lean forward on your elbows, voice low as you tilt your chin towards her, silently asking for a kiss.

Emily quickly obliges you, pressing a few chaste kisses against your lips.

“Let’s go…” she grins, pulling back and slipping out of the seat. You take her hand as you follow in tow.

Bidding the host a goodnight, you make your way to the car, opening the door for Emily. As you round to the driver’s side, Emily reaches over the console and opens the door for you in return.

“Thank you, honey.” You kiss her cheek once you sit, repeating the usual routine of intertwining your fingers and placing them in her lap.

“I passed the test.” Emily giggles, you can’t help but chuckle at her reference. 

“You’re silly, you don’t need to pass the door test for me to love you.” you shake your head, looking over at her with a lopsided grin.

“If ya say so…” Emily places your hand over her thigh, her nails scratching up and down your forearm as she leans over to kiss the side of your bicep.

Exiting the parking lot, Emily switches through the radio stations, searching for the perfect one. She settles on an oldies station currently playing eighties hits, The Cure’s, Lullaby to be exact.

As you drive, your thumb brushes over the thin cloth of Emily’s dress, fingers tapping along to the beat.

Your eyes leave the road momentarily, looking over at her as she shifts slightly. With a glance, you notice how she’s moved to face more towards you, how her legs have parted, nearly manspread.

You can feel her eyes on your profile, burning into your skin. You look over at her again with a curious expression.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No… could be though.” Emily teases, her fingers wrapping around your arm and squeezing at the muscle.

“Are you insinuating something, Prentiss?” Your hand slides towards her knee, fingertips pressing into the sensitive area. Emily hums in response, squirming under the pressure.

“That is completely up for you to decide, baby.” Her voice is low and raspy, you scoff at the obvious teasing laced in it. 

Your knuckles turn pale from clutching the steering wheel, desperately trying to slow your quickening heart rate.

From the corner of your eye, you see Emily reach toward the volume knob, turning the radio down. You know almost instantly what she’s playing at.

Now that silence fills the car, your senses become heightened. You can hear her breathing and the sound of your fingertips against the fabric of her dress.

Turning onto the freeway, you glance over your shoulder, checking for on-coming traffic before merging. Luckily rush hour traffic has concluded and the roads are practically empty. 

Looking at Emily again, you take in the slight flush creeping up her chest, perfectly accentuated by the dress’s low neckline. 

Switching your eyes back to the road, your fingers curl under the hem of the skirt, Emily sucks in a breath as the pads of your fingers slide over the bare skin. Sinking further into the seat, she lifts her knee to rest against the center console.

“Emily…” you groan, a painfully wide smile growing over your cheeks. “You’re gonna make me crash the car…”

“Then I’d be dying a very happy death.” Emily smirks, scratching at your elbow. You give her an unimpressed look.

“Mmm..” you hum, shifting your attention forward.

With a sigh, your hand trails under her skirt, the faintly calloused tips of your fingers scratching magnificently over her smooth flesh.

When they dance just past mid-thigh, you stop abruptly at the feeling of a thick, lacy band. Your neck pops with the speed at which you whip your head around to face her.

“You’re wearing a fucking garter?” Your hand swiftly switches over to her other leg, feeling up her thigh for a matching band.

“Maybe…” Emily bites at her bottom lip, looking up at you through her lashes.

Your finger curls around the elastic before snapping it against her flesh. Emily lets out a quiet gasp, her nails digging into the leather seat, while her hips roll slightly.

Her movement does not go unnoticed, and your smile widens. 

Deciding to tease her just a bit more, you slip your full hand beneath the fabric, gripping the flesh of her thigh. 

“I love when you wear those… you look so fucking sexy. God, remember the things I did to you the last time you had those on…” your nails dig into her skin as you recall the memory. 

Emily, leaning against the door frame of your dimly lit bedroom, wearing nothing but a skimpy black lingerie set, and those wicked lace garters around her upper thighs. 

You were practically drooling like a mastiff when you finally got your hands on her that night. Your head between those lace glad thighs, working her with your mouth and fingers, over and over again until she physically pushed you away. 

The thought of pulling over on the side of the freeway to have your way with her undeniably crossed your mind. But no. 

Keeping as much composure as possible, you pull your hand away, resting it over her knee. 

“Take your panties off, seat belt stays on.”

Emily audibly moans, quickly slipping the thin garment down her legs and tossing them into your lap. You smile as you look down at them, a noticeable patch of arousal glistening over the gusset.

“Someone excited?” Your hand slides back down to her thigh, pushing the hem of the dress up with it. The closer you get to her center, the more heat you can feel emanating. 

Sliding over the garter, you give the apex of her thigh a rough squeeze. Emily moans softly, pushing herself into your hand.

“Touch me… please.” She whines, her hand sliding over your arm, but not attempting to pull you closer. 

“Be patient.” You pinch at the skin of her hip. Emily brings her hand that’s been clutching at the seat, to her lips, biting down on her finger and looking out the window to distract herself.

Your thumb brushes over her hip bone, pressing into it slightly before gliding down her pelvis. You can feel the muscles quivering under your touch, always so sensitive when it comes to your teasing.

Emily inhales shakily as you flatten your palm over her stomach, running it across the soft flesh before landing on the opposite leg and slotting your fingers along the inner crease of her thigh. Emily huffs, her hips rolling forward in an attempt to gain some sort of friction against where she needs it the most.

“Baby…” Emily looks at you with pleading eyes, her head lulling forward as the car drives over a few bumpy patches.

With a hum, you relax a bit further into your seat, letting your fingers shift over a mere inch, tracing along the curve of her outer labia and down to the wetness pooling around her entrance. 

“Stop teasing.” Emily groans, rocking against your fingers as they glide through her folds, toying with her arousal. 

You tut at her in response, swiftly pinching at her inner thigh, causing her to yelp. Smiling deviously, you make your way back to her center, gathering up her wetness and spreading it over her clit. 

‘This what you want?” You slowly circle the swollen nub, just enough that a breathy moan is pulled from her throat, but still not enough to provide the relief she needs.

“Yes… need more.” Emily clutches the back of your arm.

“Mhmm.” you apply more pressure as you draw sloppy circles around the bud, Emily’s trembling breath and the faint sounds of her wetness echoing through the quiet car.

“So wet… and to think we had some fun just this morning…” You murmur, dipping down to her entrance to drag more of her arousal to her clit, alternating between clockwise and counter-clockwise circles. 

Rolling her hips in tandem with the rhythm of your ministrations, Emily’s eyes lock on the side of your face. Watching as your lips part, your tongue flicking out to wet them, observing as a blush covers your cheeks.

Emily whimpers as you drive over another bump, the force knocking your fingers against her clit harder.

“Can you…” Emily pants. “Inside, please baby.”

You look over at her again, eyes flitting back and forth from the road to Emily’s flushed body curled into the passenger seat, her legs spread as wide as they can, a thin sheen of sweat glistening over her brow.

You hold her gaze as your fingers slip lower, your middle finger dipping teasingly into her entrance. Emily’s mouth falls open with a gasp, her hips angling upwards to accommodate you.

Rotating your wrist, you press inside. Bottoming out before pulling back and slipping in a second, curling into the spongy spot below her pubic bone.

Emily lets out a low moan as you repeat the curling motion, her fingers squeezing at your arm, forcing your thrusts harder. Her head falls back against the door, hair mussing against the foggy glass. The lewd sounds of your fingers inside of her growing louder with each thrust.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You give her a quick but stern look as your palm grinds over her clit.

She looks up at you immediately, her pitch-black irises peeking through her long lashes. Her mouth hangs agape, bottom lip glistening with the absentminded saliva pooling inside her mouth in response to the relentless motion of your fingers inside her.

“Fuck… feels so good.” Emily moans, her breaths coming out in short and quick bursts.

“You feel so good, baby. God, I can’t wait to get home and do this the right way…” You groan aloud at her disheveled state, she always looks so fucking irresistible when she’s desperate like this. All red-faced and panting, her body writhing underneath your touch.

“Yeah?” Emily breathes out. “What are you gonna do to me?” 

“Jesus…” You give her a wide-eyed look, letting your head fall against the headrest. “Might have to pull out your favorite strap. What do you think, hm?” You quicken the pace at which your fingers pound into her, skin slapping against skin.

“Oh- yes. Keep going… gonna make me cum.” Emily arches against you, her face scrunching with the intensity of the pleasure she’s feeling.

“Might bend you over the side of the bed, fuck you nice and rough from behind…” you slow the pumping motion and opt for curling your fingers into her, hard. “Maybe I’ll have you ride me… you know how much I love having you on top.”

“Yes… whatever you want. Please… almost there, don’t stop.” Emily lets out a sharp moan as you curl into a particularly deep spot within her.

“Come on, baby. Let go for me…” Your movements stay consistent as you push her closer and closer to the edge, her hips stuttering against each of your thrusts.

You can feel Emily’s walls fluttering around you, her nails clawing at your arm hard enough that you think she might draw blood. Erratic bursts of air shoot out of her in whiny clusters of moans and whimpers.

“Coming… Oh shit, I’m-” Emily’s body seizes as her walls clamp down onto your fingers, her orgasm barreling into her like a collapsing brick wall. You keep steady as she descends from her high, her hips twitching sporadically with the aftershocks.

“There you go… you sound so pretty.” you ease your fingers out and settle them over her clit, pressing down gently to work out the last of her high.

“Ugh, that was so good- you’re so good. Thank you, baby…” Emily sighs, her hand sliding from your arm to the hand that rests over her pubis, squeezing it. She shifts forward, righting herself in the seat and pulling her dress back down.

“My pleasure.” You shoot her a wink, catching the way she shies at the flirtatious gesture.

Pulling your hand from her grasp, you raise it to your mouth, sucking her clean from your fingers. You hum at the savory flavor of Emily against your tongue, no matter how fancy the dinner might’ve been… nothing will ever compare to how remarkable Emily tastes. 

“I sure hope you uphold that statement you made earlier…” Emily says, leaning towards you over the console and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Because I most definitely am ready to go again…” She nips at your jaw, practically purring in your ear.

“Well…” you trail off, making a sharp turn and coming to a full stop. “Now that we’re home, I’m sure I can indulge you on that…” You smile, craning your neck to steal a deep kiss from her.

Emily places a hand over your chest, fingertips running over your collarbones and up the side of your throat before gripping at the nape of your neck and tugging. With a groan, you let your head roll back, allowing her to have her way.

She places a trail of wet, sloppy kisses across the expanse of your neck, running her tongue over your pulse point before sucking harshly. After a moment she pulls back, gazing at the reddened skin. “Now we match.”

...

a/n: heyyyyy!!! i hope you guys enjoyed!! I know this ones a bit shorter than my others but it was meant to be. it was a spontaneous write. Please feel free to leave some comments on what you thought or if you have any requests or critiques!!

[dazedhyu]

Backseat 𓂃 🌹 sjn

:¨ ·.· ¨: paring ー fwb!johnny x fem!reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ warnings : slow(ish) burn, fwb to lovers, very little angst, smut, johnny spoils tf out of you, unprotected car sex (WRAP IT UP!), pet names (baby, doll, pretty, etc), grinding, riding / cowgirl, i'm probably missing a few oh well :p

★彡 4.5k wc!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ authors note >< : valentines day posttt hehe :3 i saw this edit and knew i needed to write something car related w johnny... ENJOY & HAPPY (LATE, im sorry!!😭😭) VALENTINES DAY!! this lowk isnt my fav.. i kept procrastinating posting but theres such a lack of johnny fics on here i need to bless my fellow johfam 💗. Pls trust the next fic that comes out will be very delicious u guys r gonna love it mwuahahaha (๑>◡<๑) this was proofread at like 4am pls ignore spelling mistakes..

Things were always just meant to be casual. Sure, it wasn't too casual to fuck on a regular basis or talk to each other the way you do, but you always felt a little bad for keeping him in the friend zone for so long, knowing how he felt about you. You and Johnny had known each other since high school; you've always been best friends.

And to be completely honest, you couldn't help but be completely whipped by him. He bought you gifts nearly every day, whether it was something small or something thoughtful. You'd catch yourself admiring a necklace at the store, and sure enough, the next morning, it would be sitting at your front door with a cute note attached. He was like that with everything: the things you needed, the things you didn't even know you wanted, and especially the things that made you smile.

He wasn't just good at spoiling you with things. He always knew exactly what to say when you were upset, how to touch you in a way that made you feel safe, how to fuck you so good you were seeing stars. Johnny knew you better than anyone else. He knew your body, your moods, your every little habit. He could read you like an open book.

But the lingering fear that if you ever crossed that line and took things further with him, things would go south and you'd lose him as a friend was what always kept you in check. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him, and that fear kept you at arm's length.

But even today— valentines day, a day meant for romance and cheesy gestures, you told yourself things were still supposed to be casual. That’s what you kept telling yourself as stepped out of the shower and got ready for the night ahead.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the flowers he had sent you this morning. The bouquet was massive, the kind that looked like it belonged in a romance movie, wrapped in black satin and tied with a sleek ribbon with a cute card tucked into the petals with a simple message:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Be ready by 9, dress extra pretty for me. -J <3” 

It had made your stomach flip. You hadn’t been prepared for that— not from him. It wasn’t that Johnny wasn’t sweet, but this felt… different. Special. His usual kind gestures and love had turned into something else and you weren't sure if you were ready to handle all of that. But as the day had gone on, you couldn’t help but smile every time you thought about it.

Now, standing in front of the mirror, you add the finishing touches to your hair and makeup. He knows how much you hate fancy restaurants and anything overly formal, so you’ve kept your outfit casual yet still put together. A maroon cropped cardigan draped over a delicate white lace-trim cami, paired with the black skirt you know he loves. Every time you wear it around him, you catch his lingering stares and feel the way his touches last just a second too long, like he can’t help himself.

The clock was ticking, and with each passing second, your nerves grew. You thought you had it all figured out. It was supposed to be casual, after all. But you couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your chest as the minutes passed. It felt like tonight was different.

And before you knew it, you were out the door, the cool night air greeting you as you walked toward his car, your heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of your steps.

The air nipped at your skin as you approached Johnny’s car, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw him standing by the passenger door, leaning against the car with a grin that gave you butterflies. His eyes scanned over you in that way he always did when he looked at you, a look of admiration mixed with something else you couldn't quite describe. 

He straightened up when he saw you, his grin widening as he took a few steps closer. You almost missed the way his hand reached out to take yours; the warmth of his touch was enough to melt any hesitation you might’ve had.

“Hey, angel.” He spoke softly, his thumb gently traced the back of your hand as he held your arm up, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Twirl for me, baby, let me see the full fit.” 

A small laugh bubbled up in your chest, but you couldn’t resist. You spun around once, letting your skirt flare out as you turned. You could hear him take in a sharp breath behind before you faced him again. 

“God, you’re so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, his eyes never once leaving you. His voice was low, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t believe you were real. 

The way he said it made your chest tighten, and a small heat spread through your cheeks. It wasn’t just the usual compliment— there was something more behind it, something deeper, but he didn’t press it. He just smiled, that easy, confident smile that made your heart race.

“Let’s get going, yeah?” Johnny added, keeping his voice light but warm.

You nodded, still feeling the buzz from his words. As he opened the door for you, he moved closer, guiding you toward the seat. His hand briefly brushed against your waist as he helped you into the car, soft and slow, nothing rushed, just enough to send a jolt of warmth through your body. 

It didn’t take long for the night to escalate after that. His constant lingering touches and sweet words, laced with a quiet intensity, were slowly driving you mad. It started innocent— his hand brushing against your thigh every now and then as he drove, his soft chuckle as he teased you, asking about your day. But it was clear that each moment with him was a little more than you could handle. This wasn’t at all the usual for you two, even though you’re very used to his ‘dates’ there was always the friendly demeanor behind them. This one was all a complete shift in the energy, it made you nervous, like this was an actual real date and not just two friends hanging out and flirting. 

By the time you made it to a quiet spot by the water, the atmosphere had shifted. The air around you crackled, thick with something unspoken, an electric current that you could feel building between you two with every glance, every word. You weren’t even sure how you’d ended up in this position, but you didn’t care.

One minute you were sitting side by side in the backseat, laughing, the next you were straddling his lap. The shift had been so gradual, so natural that you didn’t question it until you felt his hands begin to roam.

His fingers slid under the fabric of your cardigan, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively leaned into him, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. You could feel the heat radiating from his chest, the way his breath hitched slightly as his hands slid around your waist.

You continued talking, but your words felt like an afterthought, drowned out by the racing of your heartbeat. Every now and then, Johnny would murmur something that made you blush, his voice low and teasing as he casually slid his hand under your top, his large hands gliding against the skin of your back.

But it was his eyes that truly did it for you. They were still so sweet, full of admiration and affection, but there was something else there now. A flicker of heat, of raw desire, a hunger that made your pulse spike.

“Johnny, you’re looking at me like you want to eat me.” you spoke with a small chuckle, your voice betraying the nervous flutter in your chest. It was a poor attempt to ease the tension and the heat pooling between your thighs, but it was all you could manage as his gaze burned into you.

Johnny tilted his head slightly, the smirk never leaving his lips. His fingers tightened at your waist, sending a shiver up your spine. “Only if you want me to.”

His voice was low, teasing, it was enough to make your breath hitch. His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers tracing slow circles into your skin before gripping just a little tighter, pulling you in until there was no space left between you.

The subtle pressure of his touch mixed with the feeling of his painfully hard bulge pressing right against your core made heat pool in your stomach, your breath coming out uneven as you bit your lip to keep yourself together.

Johnnys gaze flickered to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and the grin on his face grew just slightly. He was enjoying this, the way you tensed up under his touch, the way your body was reacting to him before you could even find the words to respond.

“You like that, pretty?” His voice was smooth, almost lazy, but the way his hands slowly slid up to your hips sent another rush of warmth through your body. He gently rocked your hips against his, just enough to let you know what he wanted. What he knew you wanted, too.

“You’re being awfully shy tonight,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours. “Am I making you nervous?”

“Johnny…” You barely breathed out, your fingers gripping at his shoulders as a small, helpless whine slipped past your lips when he pushed you further onto his lap.

You didn’t know what was worse, the way your body was betraying you, or the way he was looking at you like he already knew everything you weren’t saying. Like he was waiting for you to catch up to what he already understood. The tension was driving you insane. It wasn’t just the way he touched you, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he wanted— it was the aftermath. The way he could act like this, make you feel like this, and then leave both of you tangled in that same unspoken confusion the next day. That lingering feeling that always stayed around for days every single time the two of you had sex. 

Longing. Maybe even love.

You wished, more than anything, that you could push past the fear of relationships, of rejection, of getting hurt. But it clung to you, holding you back, even though you knew deep down that Johnny would never hurt you. He cared about you too much. He always made sure you had everything you needed, always put you first in ways you weren’t sure he even realized.

And it made you feel guilty for pretending your feelings weren’t real. For acting like this didn’t mean something. 

The weight of it all pressed down on you, a storm of conflict and confusion swirling in your head. You let out a quiet whine, your frustration spilling over as you looked down at him, torn between everything you wanted to say and everything you were still too scared to admit.

Johnny’s fingers flexed against your hips, and his smirk softened into a small smile. “I know, baby,” he spoke, his voice quieter now. His hands slid up your back, holding you close. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could stop yourself, your hands were moving up, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt like you needed something to hold onto. Like if you let go, you’d fall apart completely.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm against your skin. “Just let me take care of you, yeah?.” His fingers traced slow patterns along your waist, his touch patient, steady. “It’s a special day today, and you’re my special girl. You deserve it.”

He didn’t wait for another word. The second your head dipped in a nod, his lips were on yours, slow and deliberate, he wanted you to feel everything neither of you could say out loud. His hands slid up your back, fingertips pressing into your skin just enough to make you shiver.

The kiss deepened in an instant, all hesitation melting away as his tongue intertwined with yours, teasing, coaxing, making your breath hitch. His grip on you tightened, your hips instinctively picking back up their pace rolling against his. 

A small whimper slipped from your lips, and Johnny groaned lowly in response. The friction you felt as he slightly thrusted up pressing further against you sent a sharp wave of pleasure through your body, you gasped, breaking the kiss for just a second before he chased your lips again, capturing them in another heated, desperate kiss.

“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured against your lips, his voice hushed but dripping with hunger. “Always so good for me.”

His mouth traveled, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, sucking softly at the spot he knew would make you squirm. 

The heat between you was unbearable now, every touch, every movement sending you spiraling deeper into the feeling. You didn’t care about what would happen tomorrow, about the confusion that always lingered after nights like this. All you cared about was him, his touch, his lips, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

His hands moved with purpose, slipping beneath the hem of your top, his palms searing against your skin as he slowly dragged the fabric upward. There was no hesitation as he pulled your clothes over your head, tossing them somewhere beside the two of you. His eyes darkened at the sight of you, his gaze drinking in every inch of exposed skin.

His hands were back on you in an instant, skimming up your sides, thumbs grazing just under the band of your bra as he leaned in, kissing along your collarbone, down the valley of your chest.

The anticipation was unbearable, your breath coming in short, needy gasps before the fabric slipped away. The cool air made you shiver, but Johnny was quick to warm you up, his mouth finding your skin again. Kissing softly before latching onto one of your nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the perky bud, making you moan and pull softly at his hair. 

He hummed, the vibrations against you causing a whimper to leave your lips. He tilted his head back, releasing your breast with a small pop, immediately diving back into your chest to kiss and mark you in places nobody else would see. His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs and pushing them apart, the feeling of his clothed cock flush against where you needed him most was almost too much to handle. 

Johnny groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rocked you against him with more intent. “You feel that, baby?” he rasped, his fingers digging into your skin. “You want me just as bad as I want you, don’t you?”

The way he said it, the way his voice dripped with need, made you dizzy. Your body answered before your words could, your hips grinding down against him, a desperate moan slipping from your lips.

Johnny’s grip tightened, and he exhaled sharply, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Sit up, pretty girl.” 

Without hesitation, you lifted your hips from his, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as he worked fast to undo his belt and free his aching cock. You watched as it sprung out, a drop of pre-cum already leaking at the tip. 

Johnny worked quickly, sliding your skirt and panties down your legs with practiced ease. Before you could even process the loss of fabric, he was pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance, dragging it along your slit in slow, deliberate strokes that had your breath hitching.

A frustrated whimper slipped past your lips, your hips instinctively trying to push down onto him, but his grip on your waist was firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

His hold on your waist tightened as he continued to tease you, the head of his cock dragging along your slick folds, never quite pushing in. You let out a shaky breath, hands gripping at his shoulders, desperate for more. 

“Johnny, please..” you tried, your voice soft.

He hummed, tilting his head slightly, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him. “Please what, baby? At least ask properly.”

Your body trembled as he rolled his hips just enough to nudge against your entrance, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

You swallowed hard, your pride slipping further with every second of his agonizing teasing. “Please,” you whined, voice breathless and needy. “need you so bad, please fuck me...”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, his restraint nearly snapping at the way you begged for him. Without another word, he finally pushed into you, stretching you open inch by inch. A small gasp left your lips. 

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails pressing into the fabric of his shirt as you tried to steady yourself against the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

Johnny groaned low in his throat, his grip on your waist tightening as he forced himself to move at a steady pace, savoring the way your body welcomed him so perfectly. “Fuck, yn,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Always so tight for me.”

Your head tipped back once again, a broken moan slipping past your lips as he bottomed out, his head kissing at your cervix with just the slightest shift of his hips. He gave you a second to adjust, his thumbs stroking slow, soothing circles against your hips, but the way your walls clenched around him made his patience waver.

“You okay, angel?” he asked, his voice softer now, despite the way his restraint was hanging by a thread. 

You nodded quickly, your body already desperate for more. “Mhm, feels so good..”

That was all he needed. With a deep, satisfied hum, he pulled out just enough to thrust back in, slowly, making sure you felt every inch of him. His hands guided your movements as you rocked against him, your moans spilling into the air between you.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his lips grazing your jaw before trailing down to your neck. “Taking me so well.” 

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails grazing his scalp as you let out a breathy moan, overwhelmed by the way he moved— how every roll of his hips sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. He tilted his head up to watch you, eyes dark, completely filled with a mix of love and lust. 

“You feel so good,” he whispered against your skin. His lips trailing lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, lingering at your collarbone before nipping lightly, just enough to make you shiver.

A soft whimper slipped past your lips as he slightly picked up his pace. He caught your sound with a kiss, deep and unhurried, like he wanted to drown in the taste of you. His tongue traced along your bottom lip before he pulled away just enough to whisper, “You like that? Want more?”

You could only nod, barely able to form words with the way he was unraveling you so effortlessly. The intensity of his gaze never wavered, watching every little reaction, every shiver, every breathy sound that slipped from your lips.

“Use your words, doll, want to hear you.” 

A shaky inhale filled your lungs before you managed to whisper, “Yes… more, please.”

His lips curled into a soft smirk, but there was no teasing in his eyes only devotion, only the overwhelming need to give you exactly what you asked for. His movements deepened, his hips snapping into yours with a bit more urgency, dragging out every sensation. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he buried his face in your neck, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding you to match his rhythm.

Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, your body trembling in his arms as your moans grew louder. He was losing himself in you, in the way you felt, the way you sounded— so sweet, so desperate for him.

“Johnny—” His name spilled from your lips like a plea, your fingers gripping onto him like you’d fall apart if you let go.

His hands roamed your body, both hands resting just under your breasts, his thumbs rubbing small circles at your nipples. He kissed you again, much deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours with a tenderness that had your heart pounding against your ribs. It wasn’t just desire; it was more than that. It was the way he held you like you were something precious, something he never wanted to let go of.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his voice strained, almost like he was trying to hold back but couldn’t anymore. “You feel so damn good… can’t help it, baby.”

His grip on you tightened as he thrust into you with more intensity, repeatedly hitting that spot that made your toes curl, but his touch remained gentle, his hands smoothing over your skin, grounding you, making sure you were with him through every moment. The sound of your moans only spurred him on, his breath coming out in ragged exhales as he broke the kiss to bury his face against your neck.

“Taking me so well, angel,” he groaned, his lips brushing against your jaw between each word. “So perfect— so beautiful —just for me.”

Your fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as another whimper escaped you, and he nearly lost it right then. His hips snapped forward with more force, his control slipping further with every sound you made.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark, filled with adoration and something raw, something unrestrained. “Need you to know how good you are to me… how much I love you.” 

You couldn’t even form words in response, your head spinning with the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into you. You clung to him, feeling each thrust of his hips, the way he drove deeper, harder, pushing you toward something higher. Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, everything seemed to stop. His words hung in the air, but your body was too lost in the bliss he was giving you to process them fully.

You couldn’t focus on anything except the way his hips crashed into yours, the delicious pressure building inside of you, the tenderness in the way his hands touched you, each movement making you feel like you were in pure bliss.

“Just like that,” he whispered, his pace faltering as he grew closer, but still, he stayed gentle with you, his hands caressing your skin, as if he never wanted to let go. 

Your body gave in to the intensity of it all, a rush of heat flooding you as you reached your orgasm. His name left your lips in a breathless string of pleas and moans, but still, he whispered praises against your skin, each word a caress, as if he were reminding you of how much you meant to him. Soon both of you reached your limits, his thrusts nearly stopping and cock twitching as he came. The feeling of his warmth seeping into you mixed with your own arousal soaking his length was enough to make your legs twitch and breath hitch once again.

As the intensity began to fade, the air between you was thick with lingering heat, you both slowed, your breaths coming in shaky, uneven gasps. His forehead rested gently against yours, as he soothingly rubbed your sides. 

He kissed you slowly, deeply, savoring the aftermath, his lips soft against yours as he pulled you closer, like he was trying to keep you attached to him.

But as the world around you slowly started to come back into focus, his words played on a loop in your mind, each one like a soft echo against your chest. As much as you tried to convince yourself it was just the heat of the moment, you couldn’t deny it. You knew he meant it.

And deep down, you realized that you really felt the same way. The realization hit you like a wave, slow and steady but impossible to ignore. For the first time, you were tired of parading around the topic of love when it came to him. It wasn’t just the sex, the intimacy, or the wild rush of everything that had just happened, it was the way he made you feel, the overwhelming warmth in your chest that never went away when he was around.

All you knew for sure, as your heart beat in time with his, was that you weren’t going to shy away from him anymore. You weren’t going to play games, or pretend like there was some distance between you. You wanted him. Not just in the way your body craved him, but in the way your heart had always known he was the one you were meant to be with.

You wanted to be his, as badly as he wanted to be yours.

“…I love you too,” you breathed out, your voice full of the same raw honesty that had been in his. The words felt like a weight lifted from your chest, the last piece of the puzzle locking into place.

His breath hitched, and you felt the shift in him— a gentle smile curving his lips as he looked at you, soft with emotion. “Yeah?” His voice was quiet, as if he was still letting the confession settle between you both.

You smiled back, still clinging to him. “Yeah, Johnny, I love you.”

His lips found yours again in a tender kiss, but this time it was slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring the sweetness of your confession. “Good,” he mumbled against your lips, holding you close, like he’d never let you go.

The world outside may have still been waiting, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the warmth of his arms and the love you had for each other.

Eventually, everything calmed down. He pulled back just slightly, a lazy smile spreading across his face as his thumb traced gentle circles on your skin. “Now,” he spoke up, his voice soft but playful, “let’s get cleaned up and go get some dinner, yeah?”

You chuckled softly, still a little dazed, but the warmth of his words made your heart swell even more. “Yeah, I think that sounds perfect.”

As you both reluctantly untangled from each other’s arms, you shared one last lingering kiss, both of you smiling into it, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. 

You were his. And he was yours.

Love letter from mae 💌 : ughhshshgsh i need him bad 😭 i rlly do hope u guys like this way more than i do because truly i almost scrapped the whole thing like 7 different times LMFAO

ty for reading!! ♥︎♪ヽ(*´∀｀)ﾉ

[saccharinesatoru]

Unwrap Me (m)

Pairing: gojo satoru x reader (f)

Genre: sorcerer & boyfriend!Gojo + smut w/ fluff

Word count: 

Summary: Satoru felt so very bad after spending so much time away from home, so to make it up to you, he’ll be wrapped nice and pretty for you as a Valentine’s Day gift for the both of you. 

Warnings: submissive!gojo, mommy kink, bondage, overstimulation, breeding kink, choking, penetration (f receiving), brief use of daddy kink, pregnancy kink (low key)

A/N: i originally had this as a gojo christmas/belated birthday fic, but i didn’t finish it in time… lmao thank you always for the support. And lemme know if you have the artist’s ^ name, so i can tag or credit them  

Xx Jay

Surprisingly, the hardest part about being a sorcerer wasn’t fighting curses, the agonizing hours of training, or even dealing with the ridiculously ignorant higher ups. The most challenging part was how your social life was almost entirely depleted. It’s a miracle you get along so well with other sorcerers like Shoko and Nanami, otherwise you’d have no friends whatsoever… and no boyfriend either. When you first met Satoru, you admittedly thought he was annoying. Though, pretty much everyone felt the same way upon meeting the white-haired sorcerer… and some people still found him annoying to this day (i.e., Nanami). 

After years of working together, neither of you could deny the spark you two shared and eventually caved in to the passion. The rest was history. And now, going three years strong, you and Satoru love each other more than anything. There’s just one problem: both of you are so busy that you hardly get any time with each other. You have the day off? Sorry, Satoru’s on a mission abroad. He miraculously finishes a mission early and gets to come home sooner than expected? That’s a shame; you’re caught in a meeting with Yaga and the higher ups. It certainly wasn’t easy being in a relationship with the honored one, and that was emphasized on anniversaries and holidays that you two spent apart. 

Today was Valentine’s Day, and you had already prepared yourself to spend the night alone, drinking wine, watching corny romcoms, facetiming Satoru from his mission outside of Tokyo, and trying not to cry yourself to sleep as you lay in a cold bed, void of your boyfriend of several years. You told yourself it was okay. After all, you should be used to it by this point, right? This was hardly the first significant date you had spent without your partner. Surely you’d be able to muster through this one too… right? 

That would be much simpler if you hadn’t borne witness to about a dozen couples enjoying the day of love together. Hell, even Principal Yaga had plans and left campus early to meet with some mystery woman. Like Satoru, you're a teacher at Jujutsu High, and you saw plenty of your students celebrating the special day together. Yuta planned a picnic date with Maki, Megumi made a bouquet of origami flowers for Yuji, and even Hakari and Kirara had planned some big trip to a casino in the heart of Tokyo which definitely didn’t seem legal or age-appropriate. As happy as you were to see your students so happy and in love, it reminded you of how your Valentine this year would be your couch and a bottle of wine instead of your boyfriend. You took a deep breath as Ijichi drove you home. Ordinarily, you’d drive yourself, but you had a sneaking suspicion that even Ijichi felt bad for you and decided to show you some compassion… or pity… or both. 

You smile softly and wave goodbye to the assistant supervisor as he drives off in the direction of the setting sun. Surprisingly, getting off work late was a welcomed circumstance today given it meant you’d be spending less time alone in an empty house. Trudging to your front door, you fumble with the keys and slip off your shoes upon entering the home you shared with Satoru. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but the house quite literally felt colder without Satoru- regardless of what the thermostat said. All you want to do is change into your pajamas and wallow in self-pity… but then you see the rose petals delicately scattered on the floor. You frown, and for a second, you think you’re either hallucinating, about to be attacked by someone who broke into your home, or being pranked. 

Your worries are offset when you hear soft music coming from the direction of your bedroom. You slowly walk toward the room, following a line of rose petals. Upon peeking your head in the doorway, your jaw drops and your eyes widen. Who else do you find but the one and only Gojo Satoru sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but his signature blindfold and red ribbon that’s meticulously wrapped to cover his pelvis. Now you’re sure you’re hallucinating. 

You stammer, “I… The mission… you’re here…”

He laughs and sits up to rest on his elbows. “Surprise, sweetheart. Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

You feel dazed. Here you were, preparing yourself to lie to your boyfriend over facetime about not crying your eyes out due to loneliness when Satoru was sat, waiting all patient and pretty, and ready to be unwrapped like the gift he is. Your jaw must still be on the floor, because Satoru laughs again at your expression. “Don’t just stand there. I didn’t get home earlier than planned just for you to catch flies with that jaw of yours left open all night.”

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you feel tears well in your eyes as you rush toward him and leap onto the bed, pulling him into your arms. You say softly and quietly, “I missed you so much, Toru. I wanted to count down the days until I saw you next, but with how busy we both are, I wasn’t sure when that day would be.” 

Satoru looks at you with a soft smile too as he holds you close to his chest and his warmth envelops you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart… I know this is difficult for you and our relationship. I’m going to make a better effort to make time for us. And that’s why I think you’ll like the gift I got you…” He trails off before chuckling. “I mean, it’s not the only gift I got you, but I think you’ll like it most.”

You furrow your brows and look at him. It was not a surprise that Satoru got you multiple gifts for Valentine’s Day. He does the same thing for just about every special day, even holidays like Saint Patrick’s Day that neither one of you even celebrated. So what did he have planned that was so magnanimous that he deliberately mentioned it before giving it to you? “...What is it?”

He smirked at you and whispered in your ear, “After negotiating with the higher ups…” He pauses and amends, “Okay, after threatening the higher ups, I got the two of us a whole week off of work to do whatever… we… want.” 

It may sound silly and over dramatic, but you honestly have to hold back a scream at the words he whispers to you. A whole week? Neither one of you has had that much time off since… actually, you’ve never had that much time off. You and Satoru were lucky to get a mere afternoon together. That time was always cherished, but this is an entire week. You feel faint just thinking about it. Your silence and expression conveys just about every bit of excitement and shock you have. Satoru smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “That’s right, sweets. Just you and me for the whole week. No curses, no missions, no higher ups… just us.” 

A tear threatens to slip down your cheek as you process his words. He softly wipes away your tears with his thumb. You pull him even closer and breathe in the scent of his cologne. It’s the little things, really. The very thought that you’ll be able to take in his scent from rubbing your nose against the crook of his neck rather than try to inhale traces of it from his pillow brings you overwhelming joy that you can’t begin to put into words. You say softly and sincerely, “Thank you, Satoru. This means more than the world… You mean more than the world.”

Satoru smiles. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He leans closer to you, his breath warm against your ear and whispers, “Now, how about you unwrap your other gift.. I think you’ll really like it.” He grabs your hand gently and places it on the ribbon’s bow on his thigh. You smirk as well and begin to slowly pull on the strand, untying the bow. 

“I think it’s a gift both of us will like,” You whisper back. 

You undo the ribbon and slowly slide it off Satoru, revealing his body in its entirety. You caress him as if he’s the most precious piece of art you’d ever laid eyes on (which is true). Almost as if in a trance, you whisper, “A masterpiece…” 

Satoru’s blush doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Even though Satoru was always very confident (cocky) about his handsome features and bragged frequently about his physique and attractiveness, he never failed to blush whenever you complimented him. Something about you and your praise made him equal parts flustered and proud. And your comment just now was no exception. You chuckle at his expression and run your finger down his body. You have a mischievous twinkle in your eye. “Satoru… I have an idea for your Valentine’s Day gift…”

He furrows his brows in confusion. You have to keep yourself from cooing and pinching his cheeks, given his expression makes him akin to a puppy dog. “What is it?”

You smile and gently pull off the remaining ribbon on his body. Satoru lets out a quiet hiss at the feeling of the silk gliding over his rock hard cock. Once the ribbon is completely off his body, you twirl it in your hands and smile. “Be a good boy for me, and let me tie you up another way.”

Satoru’s eyes widen, and his cock grows impossibly harder. If your previous compliment made him blush, your comment made him red as a tomato. Sure, he likes pet names like ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, or ‘honey’... but nothing gets him hot, bothered, and a blushing mess than when you call him your good boy. He stutters, “T-tie me up?”

You chuckle and nod, playing with the ribbon in your hands. “You heard me right, Toru. How bout you let me string you up and take care of you for the night, hm? You must be so tired after your long mission… Why don’t you let mommy do all the work?”

He nearly cums from your words alone. No one would ever expect the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, the honored one, the almighty Gojo Satoru to have such a submissive side to him, but you knew better than anyone that every now and then, Satoru would be so desperate for you to take control that he’d be on the brink of tears. This is no exception. He looks at you like you’re his patron saint, and he worships the very ground you walk on. He nods slowly, eyes still wide. You chuckle again and lightly pat his cheek. “Words, baby.”

Satoru attempts (and fails) to snap out of his daze, but is able to speak softly, “Yes, mommy. Please make me feel good. I need it- I need you.” 

You smile and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “What a good boy. Scoot up near the headboard for me, baby. Let’s hope I’m still good at tying knots.” He damn near leaps to the top of the bed. You almost question if he teleported there, too excited to even move normally. It’s not entirely fair to chuckle at his behavior, since you’re just as excited as he is. You use the ribbon to tie his wrists to the headboard. Pulling gently on the restraints to make sure they’re not too tight, you ask softly, “Is that okay, baby? Not too tight?”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine, mommy- no pain or discomfort.” 

You nod and caress his cheek again. “You remember our system, right? Green for keep going, yellow for slow down, and red for stop. If your mouth is full, tap me three times, and I’ll stop. Also, be sure to tell me if the restraints are too tight or are beginning to hurt you, okay? I know you can heal yourself with reverse curse technique, but the last thing I want is to hurt you, alright? Don’t ever worry about upsetting or disappointing me. Your safety is the most important thing to me, alright?”

Satoru nods. Even the way you speak to him while explaining your safe words has his stomach doing flips. He’s always appreciated how caring you are, and there’s no exception when it comes to sex. As hot as the actual act is, the amount of love and care you display is the part of sex that means the most to him. And obviously, he’s far too strong for the measly ribbon to hold him back, but the very act of submitting to you willingly has both of you feeling hot and bothered. “Yes, I understand. I will communicate with you how I’m feeling, I promise.”

You nod again and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Okay, baby, let’s get started.” 

The excitement in Satoru’s eyes is practically visible through his blindfold. You chuckle and gently slip the fabric up and over his head. “I want to see all of you.” His face heats up at your words and nods, his bottom lip between his teeth and blush on full display. You begin by running your finger gently down his torso, leaving goosebumps along his skin. As you move lower, you begin to pepper kisses along his torso, leading to his muscular thighs. When you reach his cock, you playfully run your tongue over a vein, making him shiver. “P-please don’t tease, mommy. I need you so bad.”

Chuckling softly, you drop a dollop of spit onto his length and take him in your hand, pumping him a few times. “I’m sorry, baby. You know I can’t help but love watching my good boy squirm and beg for me.” Shooting him a sweet smile, you lean forward and wrap your lips around his pretty pink tip, eliciting a gasp out of the man. Deciding you’re done with teasing him, you sink your mouth down further until he hits the back of your throat. Instead of making him cry through teasing, you’ll make sure to bring him to tears by milking him dry. 

You begin with a slow rhythm, pumping in your hands whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Satoru was nonstandard in every sense of the word. To say his cock was massive was an understatement. The feeling of him in your mouth was one thing, but the stretch you felt when he finally slipped inside was unlike anything else you’d ever felt. And you were determined to make him feel as good as he made you feel. Quickening your pace, you hear Satoru moan, the occasional whimper and whine spilling from his lips. You forced your mouth deeper until your nose touched his pelvis, the soft white tufts of hair around his cock brushing against your nose. You lean up quickly for air, you immediately wrap your lips around him again. He gasps at the sudden change and wiggles his hips against you, almost thrusting into your mouth. You tap his thigh, wordlessly giving him permission to fuck your mouth. Satoru whines upon your signal granting him permission and wastes no time bucking his hips upward, his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. You’re gagging, drool and precum spilling from your lips and dripping down your chin. Satoru looks at the sight of you with tears brimming in your eyes from the lack of oxygen as he fucks into your tight throat. He honestly feels like he could cum from the sight alone, but he holds back since he doesn’t want the moment to end. The pleasure feels too good for him to give in now. He bites his lip and clenches both of his fists against the restraints. 

Upon seeing him hold back, you narrow your eyes and sit up. When his hardened cock falls from your lips, his eyes shoot open in desperation and he immediately begins to whine, “W-wait, wait, wait! Why did you stop? Please, please keep going, mommy.”

Taking his length in your hand and rubbing up and down the appendage, you say sternly, “You know how I feel about you holding back, baby. You’re not supposed to hold back any noises or orgasms unless I tell you otherwise. I don’t want to have to punish you…” 

Satoru feels like he might start crying on the spot. “N-No! No, I swear, I’ll be your good boy. I’m sorry for breaking the rules, mommy. I… I just wanted this to last longer. Y-your mouth feels so good, and I just want to feel it a little bit longer, mommy. I wasn’t trying to be bad.” 

You honestly feel bad for even mentioning punishment in the first place with how desperate Satoru looked at the moment. You caress his cheek and say softly, “Baby, I have so much more in store for you. Just because you cum early during a blowjob doesn’t mean I’m not going to milk you dry tonight.”

His eyes light up in excitement at your words, the distress written on his face fading and the tears subsiding. “Yes, yes, thank you, mommy. I’m sorry for doubting and disrespecting you…” Satoru’s face morphs into a pout. “Can… Can we keep going please?”

Chuckling at his question, you nod. “Of course, baby. Tonight’s about you.” You catch him off guard by immediately taking him in your mouth again, causing him to let out a loud moan and tense his thick thighs. You increase the pleasure by moving one hand to his balls and fondling them the way you know drives him crazy. He whimpers at the feeling and faces an internal dilemma as to whether or not he should drop his head against the pillow in pleasure or keep his eyes trained on the captivating sight that is you. 

With his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, your hand pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth, and your other hand playing with his balls has him teetering on the edge of climax. He whines out, “M-Mommy, mommy, I’m close. Please let me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” 

You hum around him, both giving him nonverbal permission to cum as well as sending vibrations through his already sensitive cock. He gasps and shoots his load into your mouth, whining, moaning, and thanking you for pleasing him. “Thank… Thank you so much, mommy. That felt so… so good.” He’s panting and trying to catch his breath when his eyes widen upon realizing you hadn’t stopped your ministrations. Satoru stammers, “W-Wait, mommy, I finished already. I- fuck- I’m sensitive.” 

Despite hearing his nervous stammering, you continue to suck him off. Hearing all his cute little noises sounded even better after he felt boneless following a powerful orgasm. Just to push him even further, you pick up the intensity of your movements and make the act even messier with more drool, tears, and precum. You know how much he likes the sight of you eager to please him and give him the relief he needs. 

Satoru feels like his brain is turning to mush. Despite the fact that he just came moments ago, he feels his cock begin to harden again, adding to the sensitivity he feels. He feels his entire body tremble as you increase the intensity. He lets out a shaky breath, feeling as oxygen-deprived as you do. “I-I’m close again, mommy. I’m so, so close. I’m going to cum, oh my god.” Satoru groans and his entire body tenses, anticipating his climax. You pull your mouth off him, but continue pumping him up and down as well as fondling his balls. 

You say to your boyfriend warmly, “Baby, I told you I was going to milk you dry. Mommy always keeps her promises, right?”

He nods vigorously which is a miracle considering how high he feels at the moment. Satoru’s lips are red from how much he’s bitten them and his entire body is on edge, teetering on the brink of release. He looks at you with tear-filled eyes. “C-Can I cum, mommy? Please? I’ve been such a good boy for you.” 

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to his lips and whisper, “Cum for me, baby. Show mommy how good she made you feel.” 

You barely finish your sentence before he’s spilling into your hand, several ropes of cum coming from his red, sensitive cock. “Fuck!” Satoru’s a moaning mess, and you’d surely get noise complaints from the neighbors if Satoru weren’t so rich that he could buy the two of you an unreasonably large mansion. He’s loud and shameless- just how you like him. 

He comes down from his high and mutters, “Thank you, mommy. I-I was worried about how sensitive I felt at first, but you made me feel so good as usual. Thank you for always taking such good care of me.” Satoru looks at you with stars in his eyes as if you were an angel sent from heaven. 

You chuckle softly and lick off the cum that had stuck to your hands. Gently pushing some of his hair from his sweaty forehead, you smile fondly at the man. “Of course, baby. I have to give my good boy every bit of care and affection he deserves.” 

Satoru smiles at you softly and leans up to catch your lips in a kiss again. You make him feel so safe, so warm… so loved. He hadn’t felt that way since Suguru said goodbye to him all those years ago and left him to pick up the broken pieces of the life they had built together. You made him feel whole again, and he would spend every day of the rest of his life repaying you for the priceless amount of care and affection you gave him. 

He feels content in the moment but longs for you in a more intimate way. Satoru looks at you, a bit shy, and asks softly, “Can… Can you please ride me, mommy? Your mouth feels so good… but your pussy feels amazing.” 

You chuckle again and press another peck to his lips. “Of course, baby. I just wanted you to catch your breath first… What color?”

He thinks back to their color safe word system and states confidently, “Green, mommy. I feel a bit overstimulated… but you know I like it…” Satoru looks to the side, blush spreading across his cheeks again. 

Gently grabbing his chin and turning him to face you, you meet his gaze. “I know you do, baby. We’re far from done tonight, so I really need you to be honest and vocal with me if you want to slow down… If you’re ready, then we can move on.” 

Satoru nods. “Yes, mommy, I’m ready to continue. Please… please use me. Use my body, mommy. My cock belongs to you.” You can tell by his expression just how much sincerity his words hold, and it makes your heart warm like nothing and no one else could. You smile softly at him and capture his lips in a loving kiss. Your actions convey what your words cannot, and Satoru can feel the amount of love you feel for him. It makes his stomach erupt with butterflies. He would fight every cursed spirit and curse-user a million times over just for a simple touch from you. 

You throw your leg over his torso, effectively straddling him. You hover over his cock and use your hand to line him up with your entrance. Looking down at him, you ask, “Are you ready, baby? Ready for mommy’s pussy to take your big cock?” 

Your words have Satoru feeling feral. He nods so intensely, you think for a moment that he’ll have to use RCT to heal his neck. With desperation in his voice and written across his face, Satoru says quickly, “Yes, yes, please. Mommy, I need you so bad. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 

Chuckling, you show him mercy (not like you were doing any better yourself). You sink down on his cock and hiss at the stretch. The two of you never wore condoms since nothing felt better than being able to feel each other without any barriers in the way. The thought of that alone made Satoru feel weak, and the action itself made him feel like he ascended to heaven. Every time he filled you up, he returned to his own personal paradise. And the feeling was only exemplified by the fact that he was tied up, completely at your mercy. He whimpers when he bottoms out, your tight, warm walls sucking in his cock like a vacuum, making him shiver uncontrollably. 

After taking a moment to adjust, you lift yourself up with your thighs and slam back down onto him, making the two of you moan loudly in unison. After a few slow movements, you begin to bounce on his cock with increasing speed. You bring one of your hands to play with your clit as you ride him which has Satoru feeling both incredibly turned on and also a bit jealous since he wanted to touch your body too. You notice the look on his face and chuckle breathlessly, “Don’t worry, baby. Your touch still feels better than mine. Your hands are just a bit… preoccupied at the moment.” 

In any other situation, Satoru would have laughed at your sly joke, but you were fucking him so good that he couldn’t even get in a smart ass comment in retaliation. As your hips meet his, a bit of drool begins to spill from his lips. You lean forward and lick off the saliva that threatens to descend down his chin. Satoru looks fucked out beyond belief. The two consecutive orgasm  overstimulation from earlier only made him more sensitive, and you knew it too. 

With your spare hand, you wrap your fingers around Satoru’s throat, applying a fair amount of pressure that has him impossibly more aroused. Though you’re careful not to squeeze too tight and risk hurting Satoru since he was particularly sensitive in his submissive state, you press your fingers around his throat and make him see stars with the combination of your tight pussy and tightened grip around his windpipe. 

Satoru’s eyes roll to the back, and his head drops down onto the pillow. He longs to place his hands on your hips and guide you up and down his cock, but he knows that he has to be a good boy for you- especially since you’re oh-so-sweetly taking care of him. And in the moment, the mere thought of displeasing you makes him feel like crying. 

Noticing his expression, you press your lips to his again, kissing him passionately. He returns the kiss, matching the amount of affection and eager to express his love for you through his lips. You continue to fuck yourself on his cock, making the both of you loud and uncontrollable messes, frantically chasing their releases. 

Satoru hisses, “F-Fuck, mommy, your pussy fits me like a glove, I s-swear. I don’t give a fuck about jujutsu; your pussy is the real magic.” 

You would have laughed at his words if it weren’t for the fact that you were also turned on beyond belief and felt like you were going to explode if you didn’t climax soon. You release your hold on his neck (much to Satoru’s dismay) and start leaving hickeys along the smooth skin instead. Satoru gasps at a particularly hard bite against his jugular, making his eyes widen. You whisper in his ear, “You better not get rid of the marks I’m leaving on you, baby. You’re my own little masterpiece. My good boy, so pretty and strong. I just wanna mark you so everyone knows who you belong to. So be a good boy for mommy and don’t use your RCT to heal yourself, okay?”

Satoru is nodding quickly before you even finish speaking. “Yes, mommy, I belong to you. I don’t want anyone else looking at me. I- oh my god, you feel so good…” He’s unable to finish his sentence with how good you’re making him feel. He stammers out again between moans and whines, “I’m all yours, mommy- no one else’s. Use me whenever and however you want. Just wanna make you feel good.” 

He’s a rambling mess, and you know he’s approaching another orgasm. You ignore the burning in your thighs and force your body to move even quicker. His cock is sucked in and out of your pussy before his eyes, and the sight has him feeling even dizzier than he already does. Moaning against his skin, you breathe out, “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make mommy cum. Be a good boy and thrust up into me like before, okay? Can you do that for mommy?” 

Satoru nods eagerly again and starts fucking up into you, increasing the pleasure even more. Your fingers make fast figure eights on your clit and bring you to your climax. You curse and clench around him. “Oh my god, Satoru!”

He’s unable to be quiet even if he wanted to. Your walls tightening around him sends him spiraling over the edge. Satoru whines uncontrollably, and you feel him fill your insides with several spurts of his hot seed. He’s panting, chest rising and falling heavily with his eyes clenched shut. All of a sudden, his eyes shoot open. “Oh my god, mommy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t ask for permission to cum, and you told me to obey you otherwise I’d get a punishment, and I didn’t mean to let you down. You felt so good around me, and I know that’s not an excuse, but I just couldn’t help myself and-” 

You cut him off with a kiss. “Baby, it’s okay, I understand. Don’t worry; I’m not mad at you. You’re not going to be punished, baby. Take some deep breaths, okay? I know you’re feeling sensitive.” You softly wipe a tear that threatened to fall from the corner of his eye. He was so distraught at the thought of disappointing you that it had him as breathless as his orgasm. You rub your hand on his chest comfortingly. “What color, baby?”

He takes some deep breaths, trying to collect himself. Your soothing touch did wonders for him (it always did), and he was able to calm down within the next couple of moments before saying softly, “Green, mommy. I just… I just want to make you proud.”

Satoru has a frown on his face that breaks your heart just a bit. You take his face in your hands gently and say softly, “Baby, you make me proud everyday. The love of my life is the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. And the jujutsu isn’t even the most important part.” 

He looks at you with a bit of surprise in his eyes, “...It’s not?”

You chuckle softly and shake your head, rubbing your thumb against his cheek. “I’m proud of how smart you are, how brave you are, how big your heart is... I’m the luckiest girl in the whole wide world, because I get to call you mine.”

Before, Satoru felt like he was going to cry out of fear that he has disappointed you by not following the rules. Now he felt like he was going to cry from the sheer impact of your words alone. “You… You really mean that?” 

You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. “I meant every word, baby. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It doesn’t matter if our schedules don’t align or if we don’t always get to be around one another. There’s nothing that could keep me from loving you.”

Now Satoru actually starts crying. You frown and untie his hands gently before pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you for always being such a good boy for me, baby.” He pulls you in closer and wraps his arms around you tightly as if you’ll slip through his fingers if he’s not careful… just like Suguru did.

He whispers, vulnerability laced in his words, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You smile softly and caress him. “You’ll never have to find out, baby. I’m right here, and there’s nothing you can do to get rid of me.” He chuckles softly at your words, knowing that he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Satoru speaks softly again, “I keep having this dream… where you and I are retired, and we spend our days doing all the things we never have time for as sorcerers. Every time I pass by a bakery, I think about baking with you on a peaceful Saturday morning with flour cutely dusted on your face… Whenever I travel abroad for a mission, I think about how amazing it would feel to take you on a trip around the world, visiting every landmark and attraction just for the hell of it… Whenever I’m around the students, I… I think about how it would feel having kids of our own…”

Your eyes widen at that last comment. You know that Satoru is especially soft and sentimental after being in a submissive state, but you and Satoru had never discussed having kids together before. Of course, you wanted to… but having and raising kids when both of you were overworked beyond reason seemed impossible. But to hear him say those words so passionately, so sincerely, it had your heart warming in a way it never had before. 

You say softly, “Maybe… maybe we can make that a reality, Satoru.” 

He looks at you with hope. “Do… Do you think so?” 

Smiling warmly at the man, you press another kiss to his lips. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, and the thought of building a family with you only makes me love you more.” 

In that moment, Satoru feels more loved than he ever had in his entire life. He pulls you even closer until you feel his heartbeat against your own chest. After a moment, a smile slowly forms on your lips. “You know, Satoru… maybe I should stop taking my birth control…”

His head snaps up, and his wide eyes meet yours. “Don’t mess with me right now, or I swear to god, I’ll hollow purple myself.” 

You laugh at his comment. Although it sounded like a joke, you could hear the vulnerability in his tone. He wouldn’t really hollow purple himself… but this conversation about your future together was so important to him that he felt like he was hanging on the edge of his seat waiting for your answer. You whisper against his lips, “I want you, Satoru- all of you. I want the white dress and flower bouquet, I want the sounds of our kids playing in the backyard, I want you by my side as we build a home- a family- together.” 

Satoru pauses and looks a bit sheepish before saying, “Well, uh… If you don’t wanna spoil the surprise, then don’t look at the small box on our nightstand…”

You pause as well and naturally turn to the nightstand, unable to resist the temptation. You ask calmly, though your heart feels like it’s about to explode, “Satoru… is that an engagement ring?”

He doesn’t answer, and his silence speaks volumes. 

You laugh at his expression and smile playfully. “Well… If we really do hear those wedding day church bells in our future… then maybe it really is time we start building that family…” 

Satoru’s cock twitches inside you at your words, and you smirk. “What do you say, baby?”

He catches off guard by flipping the two of you over. You yelp as you're pinned down to the bed, staring up at Satoru with a fire in his eyes you’d never seen before. Before you can say anything, he grinds his hips against yours, and you moan. You ask shakily, “Y-you’re not too sensitive still?” 

Satoru laughs and begins to slowly thrust into you. “Ha! Are you kidding? My girl just told me she wants to have my kids. I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my entire life.” 

You’re about to playfully roll your eyes when he snaps his hips against yours again and sets a rough pace. You’re a moaning mess, and Satoru’s hard thrusts have you seeing stars. Satoru doesn’t even care that you’re still on birth control, and there’s hardly a sliver of a chance that you could miraculously get pregnant from a faulty medication. None of that matters. He has tunnel vision, and the idea of you pregnant has him crazed. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life. “Fuck, you’re gonna look so good, all round and plump… And your tits are gonna taste even better when they’re swollen with milk.” He latches his mouth onto your nipples and starts sucking and biting.

Long gone is the submissive Satoru who called you ‘mommy’, because now Satoru is hellbent on turning you into a mommy. He’s a man possessed with the way he fucks you. His hardened cock is slamming in and out of you, and all you can do is moan as he fucks your brains out. He chuckles darkly, “Who’s submissive now, huh?” 

You don’t even get the chance to respond since Satoru’s hand makes its way between your thighs and begins to rub your clit harshly just the way you like. You scream out, “Fuck! Satoru, don’t stop. Oh my god…”

Satoru smiles at your moans and continues fucking into you like his life depended on it. The sound of skin slapping echoes through the room, and the bed begins to squeak due to the intensity of Satoru’s thrusts. Neither one of you cares though, too distracted with the feel of each other. As if in a trace, you two fuck as if you’re the only people left in the world. Satoru speeds up the pace of his thrusts as well as his fingers on the bundle of nerves. 

You’re a blubbering mess. “Satoru, fuck, I’m so close.”

Desperately teetering on the verge of your orgasm, you’re desperate for release. Satoru laughs breathlessly as if he’s in a better state than you are. “Can’t hold on anymore? Look who’s- fuck- desperate now.”

An idea comes to mind and you lean in to whisper in Satoru’s ear, “Please let me cum, daddy.”

Satoru cums immediately. He practically bursts. Daddy kinks were one thing, but daddy kinks in the context of you two having a baby together? Fuck, Satoru is reeling. “Shit, oh my god, sweetheart. Take all my seed, fucking cum with me.”

You don’t waste a second and cum immediately after Satoru’s words. “Satoru! You’re so deep inside me- fuck. You’re filling me up so good…” You fight the urge to pass out with how hard your climax was. It seems that you and Satoru are the same in that starting a family has you hornier than ever. 

Once you both come down from your highs, you’re both breathing heavily with Satoru lying comfortably on top of you. You hold one another close and enjoy the feeling of each other’s heartbeats.

Satoru chuckles after a while. “I had a special Valentine’s Day dinner planned for us… but now I think it’s best we just stay in bed.” You laugh as well. 

“All this baby-making practice sure is intense.” You wipe your hair out of your eyes and gasp when Satoru thrusts into you again, cock harder than ever before. “...Satoru?”

He grins. “I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing our baby-making for when you stop your birth control. Practice makes perfect, right?”

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

---

i actually posted when i said i was gonna lol wow that's a first. if you made it this far, thanks for reading and happy belated valentine's day loves <3

[kkoga]

Pretty eyes, jeung yoonchae x IVE!fem!reader

A/N : this is my own little valentine special, so sorry it's a bit late. Had to work my ass off for the collab, and js so yk i also have a dani angst fic in the works so def watch out for that one

Warning ! Mentions of homophobia, foul words, definitely NOT proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written is pure fiction. No person is an accurate representation of themselves.

Now playing ! Pretty eyes by zehdi

Wc — i don't know ok. I pulled this out my ass. Its not even valentines anymore. It was supposed to be a val special. Watch me jump off the cliff.

Divider creds : @steviebbboi

Yoonchae hesitantly holds hands with Y/n. Even though they were holding hands below the table, it was still incredibly risky. Considering the fact that both girls were idols, and from different groups no less, would completely destroy their career.

Yoonchae hated this. The korean hated the hiding, the concealing. She wants to show off her girlfriend to the world, to shout and tell them the one and only person she loved was none other than Y/n L/n.

But the Korean knew she had no choice. Gay people were gravely frowned upon in Korea. The girl doesn't even know whether or not her own parents would support her.

Y/n was even more popular than Yoonchae. The girl was a member of the famous girlgroup IVE, a group every junior admired.

The two had initially met at an award show. Y/n, ever so confident, approached the Korean first. Yoonchae was incredibly shy at first, thinking, "There is no way Y/n of IVE is talking to me right now."

But after a couple weeks, the two girls had grown close. Too close, for Yoonchae's liking. After a few months, Yoonchae noticed her heartbeat was too fast around the girl, her words almost always getting jumbled up whenever within the vicinity of her bestfriend. It was pathetic, really. Y/n never let's her live it down.

Yoonchae had a feeling she knew why she felt that way, but growing up in a traditional house, the girl tried convincing herself it wasn't true. She had nothing against gay people of course, but the internalised homophobia the Korean had to grow up with was starting to hit her hard.

Yoonchae ran to an old friend for help, who had calmly asked her two questions.

"Alright, let me ask you two questions. Would the world end if you came out as gay?" Yoonchae was weirded out by the question.

"What? That doesn't even make sense.." Her friend sighed.

"I didn't mean it literally, Yoons. I meant would it feel like your world was ending?" Yoonchae almost immediately answered.

"But my— my parents wouldn't... and the public, good god, my fans. I can't be—" Her friend then interrupted her.

"Now imagine Y/n with someone else. Someone who most definitely isn't you. Would you be able to bear that? Does that seem like it's worse than your world 'ending'?" Yoonchae paused, her expression filled with every negative emotion possible. Anger, sadness, and confusion were all neatly displayed on her face.

".... yes." Her friend smiled, content with Yoonchae's answer.

"There's your answer."

After the conversation, Yoonchae had taken a day off. To think about herself, and her feelings. It was definitely a big thing to process, the fact that she had apparently never liked men. The Korean had always questioned where the "spark" her friends always mentioned was. But now that she had thought about it, the girl now knew why.

It took a while, but eventually, Yoonchae had finally accepted herself for who she was. However, the Korean still come out to her members. She wasn't ready yet.

But now, after successfully confessing to Y/n and having been together for the past two years, the Korean finally considered herself ready.

And today, she was going to ask Y/n if she would like to meet her members. Not as a friend, but as her partner, as the love of her life.

As Yoonchae got in Y/n's newly acquired car, one she got right after earning her license, the Korean took it as a good time to ask.

"Y/n? Can i ask you something?" The girl was nervous. What if she said no?

"Yes Yoons? What's up?"

"I.. i want to introduce you. To my members, I mean." Y/n was shocked, but excited. Extremely excited.

"Really?"

"Really. I'm ready, Y/n. I want them to know I have a beautiful wonderful girlfriend who takes care of me every single day." Y/n, so enamoured by Yoonchae's braveness, leans over for an excited and cheeky kiss.

"Love you soo much Yoon!"

Yoonchae warmly smiles, "Love you too hun."

It was finally the day. Today, Y/n was going to introduce herself to Yoonchae's members as her girlfriend. Well, not immediately, but eventually.

Yoonchae had carefully planned out the afternoon. First, she would get her members to warm up to Y/n. Then during dinner, finally tell them something— or rather someone she's been keeping a secret for far too long.

Y/n nervously rings the doorbell, adjusting her collar just before Manon, one of Yoonchae's bandmates, answer the door.

"Hey girl so nice to meet you, Yoonchae's friend right?" Y/n nods, and returns Manon's smile.

"Come in girl, she's like in her room right now." Y/n hesitantly walks into the house and is met with Megan and Daniela on the couch, Sophia and Lara apparently in the kitchen, and Yoonchae exiting her room.

"Y/n! Hi! Sorry, I had to grab my switch. Let's play now." Yoonchae shot Y/n a cheeky smile, one she undoubtedly fell for.

"Oh you are going DOWN! Also hi, nice to meet you guys." Megan and Daniela sweetly greet the girl, finding the difference of her demeanour with them and Yoonchae silly.

It has been four hours since you and Yoonchae have started playing on her switch, the game projected on the TV. An hour in, Megan and Lara had joined you and Yoonchae's games of Mario Cart.

Yoonchae couldn't help the warm smile slowly creep up her face. It was nice. Seeing you interact with her members was just so— natural.

Sophia and Lara were peacefully sat on the couch, Manon taking pictures in the corner of the livingroom. It was as if Y/n was already a part of them, a part of their little family. And Yoonchae loved it.

By now, it was already dark outside. Dinnertime was approaching, and Yoonchae had to prepare herself. They liked her so far, nothing bad is gonna happen.

As they all ate on the dinner table, Manon started a conversation.

"I still can't believe you're friends with Y/n from IVE Yoonchae, How did you guys even meet?" The couple looked at each other, a cheeky smile on both their faces.

"Oh, we met because of a common friend. That's all." Manon nodded in response, and Lara looked at Yoonchae and Y/n a little suspiciously.

As they all finished off their food, Yoonchae had very suddenly asked them all to sit on the couch, which confused her members. But they obeyed nonetheless, curious as to what their maknae had to say.

They all lined up on the couch in order, Manon, Daniela, Lara, Megan, and Sophia. While Yoonchae and Y/n stood in front of the five.

"I just wanted to say..." Yoonchae said as she held your hand, doing so in a romantic manner. Lara's eyes shot up, as if saying "I FUCKING KNEW IT!"

"I'm dating Y/n. I like girls. The whole point of today was to get you all to warm up to her." Yoonchae wasn't sure how her members would react, but she was pretty sure at least Megan and Manon were gay, so it wouldn't be that bad.

Barrages of questions were shot from Daniela and Manon's mouth, and Lara asking for her 10 dollars from Megan could be heard too. But all Sophia did was send the couple a warm smile. The leader kindly asked them all to shut the fuck up, and after the rest did as she said, she calmly and proudly told the couple.

"I'm proud. Thank you both for trusting us, and congrats on your relationship. You don't have to give us all the information about your relationship now— you can do that as the night progresses. Let's just enjoy the night, yeah? You should sleep over Y/n." Yoonchae teared up, and Y/n did too, thankful the Katz were accepting.

Yoonchae leaned in to Y/n's ear, and whispered, "Love you." Y/n giggled like a little kid, and gave her a little cheek kiss, which resulted in reactions from the rest of Katseye.

[cochineal-leviat]

Valentine Special 2025 ships

Heyo, it's already midnight where I am, so Valentine's Day has passed, but I still wanted to celebrate it. Valentine's Day is weird for me because I am Aro&Ace, so I never really get to appreciate it. Every year, it just comes and passes, and I feel nothing, even though I do like the aesthetic.

But this week, I had the brilliant idea that even though I can't celebrate it conventionally, I can still do something for all the pairings and ships I have come to love over the years. So, I drew eleven ships that had helped me during my most challenging moments, from when I was a child to the present. They are ordered in no particular order but rather what I got on paper in my sketchbook.

Idk. Maybe this way me my fellow Aromantics shippers can still enjoy the holiday.

Which ship do you like best? I would love to know~ (even if it is simply from the technical perspective)

From the first panel to the last, we have:

Page 1

Kirfluff (is extra special to me as a fic I wrote for the pairing, including many other franchise characters, which led me to keep writing for fun and posting it online. Without I would not have the boost of confidence that I do now about my writing)

Metadede (Who doesn't love a good ship with a warrior's bond? They're hilarious)

Isafrin (my most recent ship. They make me soft and cry at the same time. Like this pairing adds a lot ISAT's story and manages to also be very entertaining and heartfelt)

Sonadow (I got into the ship before I was even into Sonic. There was even a long-ass fic I found back when I still read on Fanfiction.net that I reread every year because I found it so funny. I definitely enjoy the modern Sonadow writing more than a decade ago)

Snufmin (perfect balance between yearning and the needing space and the freedom to adventure. I want to read more of this ship)

Page 2

Ravioli(nk) (The name alone already makes it worth it. I also have an unholy amount of fics saved from this ship. They are the literal roommates meme)

Vidow (a classic. I enjoyed this one even before I got into Zelda. Like I was reading Four Swords without having any clue what the lore was or what the fuck was going on.)

Reguri (This was named Namelessshipping and Orginalshipping back in the day. Too tired to do research rn. But I think the difference lies in the manga and game versions. I prefer the game versions, personally)

Purpleshipping {Kieran x mc) (A little backstory: this is just the mc from Scarlet and Violet that I made an NB version for, which became their own person after writing a fic. Here, they are exchanging an Applin with Kieran. For those who know the custom, you know, you know. A friend of mine named this ship)

Shadowpeach (the most divorced couple I have ever come across. I remember back when this was considered a crack ship. Ah, good times. The character depictions were very different back then, too. I depicted them in their friend's era, but still. Btw Macaque is laughing at Sun Wukong's antics but I think it accidentally looks like he is laughing at Sun Wukong rather than with him. Oh well, it wouldn't be too out of character for seasons 1-3 Mac)

Marink (not a ship I read about a lot, but it hurt me so much when I played Link's Awakening for the first time. Everytime I think of Marin I feel sad)

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Best Valentine's Day ever |V-Day Special 2025

PAIRING || Boyfriend! Baker! Tony Stark x Girlfriend! Pregnant! Female! Reader

WORDCOUNT || 4.8K

SUMMARY || What started as a happy Valentine's Day for you, your boyfriend Tony, and your cat, Oliver, soon turned into one of the best days of your life. With the birth of your son, your life feels complete, and seeing Tony turn into the most loving, gentle father you've ever seen is the cherry on top.

RATING || Mature (M)

WARNINGS/TAGS || Canon divergence, everyone lives AU, bakery AU, baker! Tony Stark, age gap romance, pregnancy fic, kid fic, multiple mentions of labour and delivery (nothing graphic), Tony being the sweetest boyfriend, and most loving dad!

A/N || I wish you a happy Valentine's Day if you celebrate it, and I hope your days will be amazing! Thank you all for your support and patience, and I look forward to sharing more stories soon! I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for the endless love and support. I couldn't have done this without you! I love you so much, bestie! 🤍

EVENTS @fandombingo || Take your kid to work day @julybreakbingo Post-JBB || Bed rest @seasonaldelightsbingo Sweater Season || Coffee date @sweetspicybingo Hurt/Comfort || Lullaby @tonystarkbingo #8005 || Free space

GIF: @ccbsrmsf1 || All other graphics in this post are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Baker! Tony Stark

From the moment you discovered your pregnancy, your world has turned upside down in the best way. Though the first few months weren’t the easiest with how bad your morning sickness was, the rest of them were a breeze with the help and support of both Tony and your British shorthair, Oliver, and now your due date is rapidly approaching. In fact, the due date your OBGYN has given you is today - February 14th, 2025, and the nerves have definitely settled in with you both. Despite this, you still sent Tony to the bakery to help with the massive list of orders him and his team have gotten.

“Tony, I promise you that me, Oliver and our little Cupcake will be completely fine today. They really need your help at the bakery, so you should help them. And I’ll call you as soon as anything happens,” you tell your protective boyfriend as he’s in front of the door, slightly hesitant about leaving you on your due date.

“But what if you go into labour today?” he asks, his brows furrowed in worry.

“If that happens, you’ll be the first to know. Oliver will be with me the entire time so I won’t be alone, and we’re not that far away from the hospital if we need to head over there today,” you tell him, and he smiles at you before bending down and capturing your lips in a loving kiss, his hand on your large belly as he gently rubs it with his thumb.

“Okay. But I need you to call me as soon as anything happens. I love you,” he tells you before kissing you a few more times, and then kneeling in front of you to kiss your belly, too. Today, you opted to wear a dress that highlights your belly beautifully, with little hearts all over it in honor of Valentine’s Day.

“I love you too, Little Cupcake. And you better stay in there until I’m back!” he says with a smile, making you laugh as he kisses your belly, too. Talking to your baby and kissing your belly has become part of your daily routine throughout your pregnancy, and he can’t get enough of it each time, lingering a little longer than he should now that he’s going out the door and to the bakery.

“Meow,” you hear from behind you, followed by little footsteps on the wooden floor as Oliver makes his way to the hallway where you and Tony are standing.

“It looks like someone else would like a kiss, too,” you joke, and Tony happily says goodbye with a kiss to his chubby, happy-go-lucky cat Oliver before getting up and kissing you a few more times and finally heading out the door, though the thought of you possibly going into labour today isn’t leaving his brain for a single moment the entire time.

“Are you hungry, Oliver? Mommy surely is, so I’ll make you something for breakfast, too,” you tell Oliver as you walk into the kitchen, one hand on your stomach as you grab some of the foods you’re craving to make a delicious breakfast with, and the little feline happily trots behind you as he meows, making you smile. As you’re making your breakfast, you feel an odd sensation in your lower abdomen, similar to the period cramps you had before your pregnancy.

“Oh, fuck-” you curse as you try to breathe through the feeling of the cramp, your fingers clenching the kitchen counter as you try to locate your phone, and thankfully it isn’t that far away from where you’re standing. While you try to get through it, the realization of this possibly being labour settling in with every wave of cramps. Thankfully, it soon subsides and you call Tony to tell him something’s going on.

“Peach, is everything okay?” he asks after picking up on the second ring, worried as he walks out the back door of his bakery for a little privacy. Though all of his employees know you’re pregnant, he still likes to have some privacy on his phone calls, and with how busy it is in the bakery today, he doesn’t want to risk anyone overhearing anything they shouldn’t.

“I- I’m not sure, Tony. Can you- oh god!- come home, please? I think I need to- to go to the hospital,” you say between deep breaths, and he lets you know he’s on his way right now. Within seconds of hanging up he has ripped off his apron to head home, and he quickly instructs everyone who’s still working about what’s happening, before jumping in his car and going home as soon as possible.

As soon as he’s in the car he calls you back, and you gladly pick up after sitting down, the cramps now gone, though Oliver is still glued to your side as you’re on the couch waiting for Tony.

“I’m on my way, my sweet Peach. I’m in the car, so I should be home soon,” he says, and the entire time he talks to you, soothing you and reassuring you that everything will be okay. If it wasn’t for Tony, you’re not sure you would have been able to get through the agonizing minutes you’re now experiencing, but with his soothing voice in your ear, it is a lot more bearable.

The entire drive home, Tony’s nerves are growing with the knowledge that his baby is finally arriving, and he still can’t really believe it’s finally happening. Simultaneously, he’s enjoying every part of the process - from the moment your son was conceived, to doting on your every need when you were taking care of the growing human inside your belly, until now - he wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.

“I’m here, Peach. I’m going to hang up for a moment and run upstairs to grab everything I need, okay?” he asks, and you hum in response, the last contraction you had slowly subsiding. While they’re not too bad yet, you’re definitely noticing that they’re intensifying quickly, and it’s making you increasingly anxious for everything that’s still to come.

Tony quickly unlocks the front door before running in to find you on the couch where you have been waiting with Oliver since calling him, and you’ve rarely been happier to see your sweet baker’s face.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks as he kneels by your side, his hand on your belly as he looks you over. Oliver bumps his head against Tony’s large hand, and he looks over at the feline before scratching him behind the ears just like he loves.

“As good as can be expected while in early labour,” you joke with a half-smile, and your boyfriend chuckles before nodding and placing a quick kiss on your forehead. Then, he runs into the large bedroom to grab the hospital bag that has been prepared two weeks ago, waiting for this very moment.

“Let’s go have a baby!” Tony says enthusiastically as he walks back into the living room, his happy demeanor making you smile before getting up, which is easier said than done. Thankfully, you have Tony’s help, and after a last goodbye to Oliver - who will be taken care of by your best friend and coworker Wanda in your absence - you’re finally heading to the hospital.

That night, at 9:33 PM on Valentine’s Day, you’re officially meeting the little human you’ve been growing for the past nine months. From the moment he was lying in your arms, you felt complete, and it has been worth every excruciating minute of labour to see the baby you have made with the love of your life.

“So, do you two have a name for him yet?” the nurse asks, and you and Tony immediately look at each other, knowing you’re thinking the exact same thing.

“Liam,” you say at the same time, and Tony’s trying his hardest not to cry.

“We decided his name will be Liam Alexander Stark,” Tony says as he gently kisses your forehead, not caring about the hair sticking to it. He thought he had known true love before, but it isn’t until this moment that he realizes the true meaning of it. As you’re holding baby Liam, he’s overwhelmed with happiness as he lets his tears flow. He’s not a man of many tears, but he really cannot help himself.

“I love you both so much,” he whispers as he looks at Liam, and you nod in agreement.

“I love you both so much as well,” you say as you gently rub Liam’s rosy, chubby cheek with your thumb. He’s the perfect copy of his dad, and you couldn’t be prouder as you can’t stop staring at him. You’re officially a family of four, and you’re looking forward to everything life will have in store for you from this moment on.

The birth of your son has taken a big toll on you, and when you’re taking a well-deserved nap - Liam being asleep right next to you - Tony is working on a surprise. After some talking with the nurse, he has gotten permission to decorate your hospital room for Valentine’s Day, since you couldn’t have the relaxing night at home that you expected. Wanda quickly dropped off some decorations, as well as a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite coffee that you’ve been craving your entire pregnancy.

The flowers are beautifully displayed in a vase Wanda brought as well, and just as Tony is hanging up the last heart-shaped garlands you’re slowly waking up. For a moment, you’re not sure what you’re looking at as you’re looking all around you, the room being transformed completely.

“Tony, what have you done to the room?” you ask sleepily, and he turns around with a broad smile as he hears your soft, sleepy voice.

“Well, since we didn’t get the Valentine’s Day we planned, I thought I’d bring the celebration here instead. I know it’s already past midnight for us, but it’s still Valentine’s Day somewhere! I asked Wanda to bring some decorations, your favorite flowers-” gesturing towards the large bouquet on the side of your bed, “and the coffee you’ve been wanting for months now.”

“I- But- Oh my god…” is all you can say as tears cloud your vision, your hormones still in overdrive after giving birth. In an instant, Tony is by your side, pulling you against his side as he’s seated on the edge of your hospital bed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my beautiful Peach. And thank you for making it the best Valentine’s Day ever,” he says as you wipe your tears, sniffles filling the room while he presses soft kisses on top of your head.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you whisper before tipping your head to capture his lips in a soft, loving kiss. Your heart swells with love as you look into his eyes, love and adoration shining through as he looks at you.

“I want to thank you for the most beautiful gift sleeping so peacefully over there,” Tony says after you’ve basked in the closeness for a few minutes, breaking the silence with one of the most heartfelt words he’s ever said.

“You don’t have to thank me, Tony. He’s the best gift we have ever gifted each other. He’s the result of our love, and he’s going to make our lives so much richer.”

As if he knows you’re talking about him, he starts to stir awake, causing Tony to get up and give him to you, as it’s the perfect time to give him a feeding. You’ll be on bed rest for the first week, which means you can take care of his every need whenever possible, and you’re looking forward to every minute you get to spend with your son in your arms. While you breastfeed Liam, Tony is finishing the decorating of the room, and then it’s finally time for the coffee date Tony has arranged.

“I’ve missed this so much,” you say after your first sip of coffee and the first bite of the most delicious cinnamon roll you’ve had in a long time. Near the end of your pregnancy, your OBGYN advised against drinking coffee, so now that you’ve given birth, it feels like a gold medal at the end of a long race, the warm liquid filling you from the inside out. A hum of appreciation fills the air as you take another sip, your son now happily sleeping in your arms.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your coffee, Peach. You’ve earned it,” Tony says before bending towards you and placing a soft kiss on your cheek, making you chuckle as the facial hair tickles your cheek. The rest of the night is spent bringing up memories, but also FaceTiming your parents as they don’t live close to New York. While your mom burst out in happy tears at the sight of Liam, your dad couldn’t stop saying how proud he is of you, and how much he looks like Tony.

During your week of bed rest, Tony divides his time between the hospital with you and Liam, and at home to take care of Oliver as well as shower and change clothes, but each time he comes back with a small gift for you as a token of his love and appreciation. From flowers to a beautiful necklace with your son’s initials on it, and a teddy bear that has recorded his voice as he sings a lullaby, it all brings you to happy tears in the best way possible.

But now, after a week of lying in bed in the hospital, you’re finally allowed to go home and live your life as the family of four that you’ve dreamt of becoming for the past nine months.

“Welcome home,” Tony says as he opens the door for you, Liam happily sleeping in the carrier your boyfriend is holding. Though you’re still walking a bit uncomfortable, you’re happy to be home again. The house smells like Tony, and you can’t help but smile when he swats your butt playfully on your way in. Then, as soon as the door falls into the lock, you hear the meows you’ve been missing; Oliver is trotting over quickly to welcome you home, too.

“Hi, sweet baby! Have you missed your mama the past week?” you ask as he jumps against your leg to get some attention, his meows making you smile as you give him the attention he’s looking for.

“He has missed you, Peach - every time I walked in the door he went to check if you were walking through the door as well, and I swear he looked a little disappointed each time you weren’t with me,” Tony tells you as he gently puts the carrier down with Liam in it. Then, after checking if he’s still sleeping, he turns around to pick up Oliver as you’re not allowed to lift anything heavier than Liam.

“I missed you too, Bubba, it was not as fun without you there. But I’m sure you’re very excited to meet your little brother, aren’t you?” Oliver meows enthusiastically at the idea, making both you and Tony smile widely. You give the chubby feline a few kisses and extra scratches under his chin before getting comfortable on the couch, where you can hold Liam in order for Oliver to meet him.

The timing is perfect, as he just woke up again, and excitement runs through your veins as Tony grabs him from the carrier. He’s dressed in the cutest blue onesie with cats all over it, and a matching hat to finish his outfit. As soon as he’s in your arms, Oliver jumps onto the couch to inspect the little human in your arms, making you smile uncontrollably. What you don’t know is that Tony is taking plenty of pictures for you to look back on later, and to put together a photo album as well.

“This is your little brother, Liam!” you tell Oliver as he sniffs his head, being mindful to not hurt him in any way as he climbs onto your lap to get an even better look. Then, a soft meow finishes it off to let you know he approves of his little brother, his head bumping against the baby’s little fist. Then, Tony joins the three of you on the couch, gently stroking Liam’s cheek as he looks at the scene unfolding in your lap. This will be the first moment of many they’ll share together over the years, and you’re looking forward to seeing them grow up together, side by side and best friends from day one.

“Would you like for me to draw you a bath or turn on the shower? You can take as long as you need to freshen up in there and have some alone time,” Tony says as he tucks some loose hair behind your ear, making you smile and flush at the soft touch on your skin.

“I- I would love to take a shower, but-”

“But you don’t know if you can leave Liam for that long?” Tony finishes your sentence, and you nod as a feeling of shame washes over you for not wanting to be away from him. It’s not that you don’t trust Tony, because you trust him with your heart, soul and life, but it’s going to be difficult to not have him with you every second like in the hospital.

“Can you look at me, Peach?” he asks gently, and you do as he asks, meeting his dark brown, adoring eyes.

“I know it’s very difficult for you to be away from him, but I promise to take amazing care of him. If you want, I’m happy to sit in the bathroom with you as I feed him his bottle so you’re not away from him for too long, or we can postpone your shower a few more hours until you’re feeling ready. Right now, I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable with everything that’s going on, and I’m willing to do everything it takes to achieve that,” he tells you, which causes tears to gather in the corners of your eyes.

“I’ll be okay, Tony. It’s difficult, but I know he’s going to be in the best hands with you,” you tell him, and Tony answers with a small kiss on the tip of your nose. Tony then gives you one more kiss before getting up and running a shower for you, and putting out all the needed supplies and the comfiest pair of pajamas you own to change into after you’ve taken care of yourself in the shower. Tony takes Liam from you, and they both wave goodbye to you as you walk to the bathroom, making you smile widely.

“We love you, Mama! Have a good shower!” Tony says in a baby voice, as if he’s giving Liam his voice. You laugh out loud as you shake your head, your heart swelling with pride and love for the man you love. He’s the best father and most loving person you’ve ever met, and you’re constantly thankful to have given him the gift of a son. The entire time you’re in the shower, using every last product Tony has set out of your in your favorite scent - peaches - you can’t stop thinking about your boys, eager to get back to them as soon as you can.

As you step out of the shower, you hear Tony’s voice over the baby monitor, though you never would have expected to hear what you’re hearing now.

“You have an amazing mama, do you know that? She’s been very strong throughout the entire process of growing you, she’s loving, kind, sweet, and beautiful, too,” he says, an admiring tone in his words.

“And meeting her has been the best thing to have happened to me in a long time, too. Before your mama, I didn’t ever think I’d find love in this lifetime, and I had made peace with that, but she changed everything for me. She made me believe in true love, and I’ve met my soulmate in her, too. We’re all very lucky that we get to love her in our lifetime. And you, too. I’m lucky to be able to love you as well, my little Cupcake,” Tony says, making you tear up a little bit.

Your feet carry you through the hallway and to the nursery, where you find Tony - thick, broad, beefy, giant as he is - with Liam on his bare chest, doing some much-needed skin-to-skin contact. His eyes are closed as he hums a lullaby while rocking back and forth in the rocking chair, and you can tell Liam is completely in heaven as Tony’s heartbeat has calmed him down a lot. As you’re standing in the opening of the door, you decide to snap a few photos to look back on later.

Then, you can’t help but take a moment to admire your boyfriend’s amazing physique. From every ridge and muscle that’s on display, to the veins running all along his thick biceps and the small happy trail of dark hair leading into his pants, it’s a true sight for sore eyes. Suddenly, you’re snapped out of the rather dirty daydream you’re having about your boyfriend as your nickname rolls off his tongue in a sweet tone, giving you full-body goosebumps and cheeks that are on fire as you know you’ve been caught ogling.

“Would you like to stay there and stare at me holding Liam, or did you want to come in?” he asks, which intensifies the burn from your cheeks all the way down your neck, too, making him smile more and more with every step you take into the nursery where he’s sitting.

“What’s on your mind, Beautiful?” he asks as you’re seated on the windowsill, which has a few pillows on it to make it more comfortable.

“You and Liam,” you answer him honestly, and he smiles at the mention of the sleeping baby in his arms.

“I overheard you on the baby monitor that’s next to the bed, and I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for being my best friend, the man I love and the best dad both Oliver and Liam could possibly have. I’m happy to have found you in this life, too, as it wouldn’t be nearly as fun without you in it. I love you, Tony,” you say before leaning in and capturing his lips in a kiss, one that has the butterflies in your stomach going wild as your heart beats faster with pure love.

It’s been nearly three weeks since the birth of your son, Liam, and Tony’s working hard on a do-over of the Valentine’s Day plans you two had. They've changed drastically when you went into labour, but now that things are finally settling into a comfortable routine, it’s finally time to make it a night to remember, though nothing will ever top the night Liam was born.

Tony has been busy in the kitchen for most of the afternoon while you’re taking care of Liam, preparing your favorite dish and dessert, as it will be all about you for the night. Oliver has been spending time wandering between the kitchen and the living room, trying to divide his attention, though he ultimately stayed with Tony as you were sure that he was feeding him little bits while cooking.

“I’m going to put Liam down for the night, so if you need me I’ll be in the nursery. He’s very sleepy and can barely keep his eyes open,” you say as you hold him close, his head lying on your chest and his eyelids falling shut constantly. Tony agrees before saying goodnight to Liam, and then you’re off, leaving Tony to finish dinner for the two of you. Seeing how tired he already is, he goes down without a struggle, sleeping nearly right away, though you still finish the singing of the lullaby you sing to him every night.

After checking if the baby monitor is on, you leave the nursery to spend some much-needed time with your boyfriend over the delicious dinner he has created. The past few weeks have been challenging as everyone has been adjusting to the new life, but the dust is finally settling and you couldn’t be happier.

“There she is, my beautiful, juicy Peach,” Tony says as he pulls you into a hug, your head lying against his chest as you let out a deep sigh. Your own arms snake around his waist as you take in the moment and the closeness, your heart settling in a slower rhythm right along Tony’s. You’re not sure how long you two stand there, but what you do know is that you missed these moments where it’s just the two of you, and you’re looking forward to a nice dinner together.

“I love you,” Tony whispers before tilting your head and capturing your lips in a kiss that’s filled with love and unspoken promises. The promise to grow old together, and to love each other through thick and thin. The promise to be by your side for the rest of your lives, and the promise to be there for one another no matter what curveball life throws at you. Then, it’s finally time for dinner, and your stomach growls with hunger as you’re sitting down, the smell of the food filling your nostrils.

During the dinner, you and Tony are reflecting on everything that’s happened the past few weeks, as well as bringing up memories from your pregnancy and the bakery. Oliver - who’s now wearing a bandana that proudly displays the words “Proud Big Brother” - meows every now and again to hopefully get some food, and you’ve never been able to say no to his cute, chubby little face and the sweet meows and purrs.

Once you’ve gotten through your starter and main course, it’s time for the dessert, which is one of Tony’s favorite recipes: brownies that have a thick, gooey caramel sauce in the middle and on top. They’re rich, decadent and extremely sweet, but extremely delicious.

“Shall we enjoy this on the couch while we watch a movie?” Tony suggests as he’s clearing the table, after telling you to stay seated so he can take care of every single thing tonight. You hum in approval before getting up and getting comfortable on the couch with a warm blanket and a cup of tea, your boyfriend soon following with the sweet dessert.

“I hope you’ll enjoy it,” he says as he hands you your piece, together with a fork to make it easier. As soon as he’s on the ouch, too, you get to pick a movie, and the dessert has never been better. While the movie continues in the background, you two have more talks about Liam when he’s grown up, and there’s one thought Tony can’t get out of his head.

“When he’s old enough, I would love to do a ‘take your kid to work day’, so he can see what we get up to all day in the bakery, as well as help with making some of the sweet treats that the bakery offers. Maybe he’ll wear a baker’s outfit, too, making him look adorable,” Tony says, and you can’t help but melt at the thought of him getting dressed as a baker together with Tony.

“I can’t wait for that day to be here-” is all you can say, but before you can finish your thought, your attention is pulled to the baby monitor on the table. Liam has woken up and is fussing a bit, so you decide to take a peek into the nursery to see if everything’s okay. Tony’s gaze is focused solely on the small monitor as you’re in there with your son, his smile not moving an inch as he sees you in your element.

“Shall we go and see how Dada’s doing, huh? Maybe get a few cuddles before sleepy time?” you ask him before walking towards the living room again, where Oliver is now happily purring away on Tony’s lap as he’s getting scratches.

“I think he wants to spend a little more time with us tonight,” you say as you walk over to the couch before settling into Tony’s side and getting ready to give Liam a breastfeeding, too. He’s all too happy to be eating again, and falls asleep during the nursing, making you smile immensely.

“He’s so precious, isn’t he?” you ask Tony, who nods in agreement.

“Just like his Mama,” Tony says, making you blush deeply again. The rest of the night is spent with many kisses, cuddles and words of love. Three weeks ago your lives changed in the best way possible, and today you’re sharing these moments with your son and cat, making you a loving family of four. One more dream can be crossed off your list, and you’re looking forward to everything life has to bring from here on out.

And one thing is for sure: you’ll be able to get through anything with Tony, Liam and Oliver by your side.