#tomorrow is valentines day!!!!! one day left!!!!

[stove-top96]

what if you did a valentine’s day one shot where the reader gets asked on a date and yandere batfam are not happy about it?

I LOVE your works so far!! I hope that you’re sleeping well and eating!! have a great day/night!!!💜💜💜

-🐈‍⬛

Please, Please, Please

Oneshot

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Featuring Platonic: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

2.5K Words

Masterlist

You glance at the clock—15 minutes tell school is over. To pass the time you doodle on the corner of your notebook. Mr Miller's chemistry class was the worst. His monotone voice could lull anyone to sleep.

Your eyes drift to your desk mate, Parker. They seem just as bored as you, staring blankly out the window. Chemistry was the only class you had without Tim, which left you alone without anyone to talk to. Parker is nice, they’re the only friend you have that’s not already a part of Tim’s circle— If you could call them a friend.

They seemed to catch you staring because they started to scribble something in they’re notebook. A moment later they slid it over to you.

‘You understand any of this’ you smile and glance up at them. They had a cheeky grin. It was cute.

You shake your head and scribble something down. ‘Not a bit’.

They take the notebook back, Parker chuckles as they read your message, rolling their eyes.

“Guess we’re screwed than” they whisper.

You let out a small giggle “guess so”.

The bell rings before you and Parker can chat more. You’re quick to pack up your things, you wanna get home as soon as possible.

You sling your backpack over your shoulder but before you can head out the door Parker speaks up.

”Hey Y/n I got a question for you”

you pause before turning all your attention to them “yeah what’s up?”

”I was wondering…” their voice wavers and their cheeks go pink “well you know how Valentine’s Day is in a few days” Parker stumbles out, fingers tapping on the notebook. you nod.

”I was hoping… you and me could go out together, like on a date” their voice seemed to gain some confidence, and a boyish smile tugs on their lips.

You paused. You haven't really thought about going on a date with anyone, but the more you think about it why would you say no. Parker’s nice, funny, and they’re pretty cute.

You smile “Sure sounds like fun”.

Parker stares at you, wide eyed, like a deer in headlights. You take that as your cue to start heading out.

“Uhh. Yeah we’ll talk more tomorrow yeah?” They stammer.

“Yeah lets talk tomorrow” you call out from the other end of the classroom, before heading out the door.

Walking through the halls you check your phone. It’d been buzzing all class, it had to have been Dick.

<Dick>

Hey baby bird, how were your classes?

I’m in town today and we need to go out.

I Just asked Alfred I’m picking you up today!!

I’ll be waiting outside

Tim’s got a ride so don't worry about him

just you and me today!!

You scoff rolling your eyes. He easily could have sent these as one message, he just liked being annoying.

After putting your books away in your locker, you made your way to the parking lot. It’s packed with people and cars, but before you could spot him.

“Babybird I missed you so much!”

He yelled from across the parking lot, as he leaned against his car. You cringed as students stared at you and him. Could he get anymore embarrassing?

He ruffled your hair as you got into the passenger seat.

“C’mon let's go” he ushered you inside before, racing out of the parking lot.

“So I’m thinking we head to that new cafe you were talking about, and maybe stop by that old bookstore you like so much before we head home.” He keeps his eyes on the road.

“Yeah sounds like a plan” you smile.

He starts talking again, you tune him out. Your mind wanders back to when Parker asked you out. A giddy smile tugged at your lips. It made you feel all warm inside, this will be your first valentine’s on an actual date.

“You spacing out baby bird?” Dick raises a brow.

”sorry, sorry long day” you stammer. Dick makes a face, like he doesn’t quite believe you.

“sure.” His voice is a little irritated. Great, he's already starting to get pissy.

Your family’s always been weird about you. It's probably because you're not a vigilante but you can still take care of yourself.

It’s been getting worse as you get older, they just keep adding rules on top of rules. No going out past 7. No leaving anyone’s side at a gala. Always eat lunch with Tim’. Damian has way less rules than you do, and he doesn’t even follow them. It’s like they're scared to let you grow up.

Lately it’s been worse. Conversations stop once you enter a room. Touches lingering a little longer than normal. Eyes lingering for too long.

Whatever you’re used to their overprotectiveness.

It’s why you plan to keep your Valentine’s Day plans to yourself. You can just imagine everyone’s reactions. Dick will probably get super clingy. Tim will pull up their search history. Damian will go on a rant about how Parker doesn’t deserve you. Jason might corner them in some alley. and Cass will have that disappointed look on her face, the kind that makes you feel horrible.

Bruce might even ground you.

“Yeah” Dick’s grip tightened on the steering wheel tightens “no way” he mutters to himself.

Dicks muttering snaps you back to reality “what did you say?” You ask.

He forces a smile “Oh nothing baby bird, just excited”

You and Dick make it back after a few hours, and you’re exhausted. He took all across Gotham, trying to any and everything with you. It’s pretty obvious that he was trying to make up for lost time. He’s been in Blüdhaven more often.

by the time you step through the front door you want nothing more than to calloused into bed.

Instead you’re greeted by Damian. Judging from the scowl on his face he’s more pissed off than usual

Damian crossed his arms. ”You said you’d only take them out to eat.” He scoffed.

Dick slid off his shoes lazily , not even bothering to look up.”We were having too much fun and lost track of time.” Dick forced laughed.

Damian doesn’t move. ”You were gone for nearly 3 hours.” His voice is flat, clearly not buying the excuse.

“It’s my fault” you chime in, trying to diffuse the tension. Damian’s head turns toward you, his expression softens. “I asked Dick to drive me all over town” you smile, Dick ruffles your hair before heading down the hall. Damian doesn’t spare him a glance, his eyes locked in on you.

You start to make your way to your room, Damian follows— of course.

”you promised to be my model for my newest painting. When do you expect to make it up?” He asks. You hum “After dinner? You’ll still have a few hours until patrol”.

He pauses for a moment “I suppose that will work.” He says, the faintest smile forming on his lips.

You grip the handle of your bedroom door, praying you’ll get some alone time for once.

You don’t.

As you step inside Damian follows, his sharp gaze assessing the space. You sigh but don’t say anything.

Dinner should be ready in an hour, Damian’s not gonna leave anytime soon. might as well scroll through your phone in the meantime.

You and Damian head downstairs and as you make your way to your seat the conversation at the table does. everyone's eyes flicker towards you. You raise a brow but before you can say anything Alfred pipes up.

”I cooked your favourite tonight master y/n” he says, as if nothing is off.

You smile, shaking off the tension. “thank you Alfred”

As you go to take a bite you notice Jason’s gaze. it’s not his usual lazy smile. It’s sharper, more intense, watching. Did something happen? His anger is almost never directed towards you. Did Bruce say something?

Before your mind starts to wander your eyes glance towards Cass, she’s frowning like she’s almost disappointed in you but not quite.

“How was school today y/n?” Bruce’s voice cuts through the silence.

Everyone’s head turns to look at you. Waiting, as if they’re expecting something.

It’s fine you’re used to your family being weird like this.

You take a sip of your water ”it was fine” you force a casual tone. There is no way you can let them know about Parker.

Jason tilts his head “Nothing exciting happened?” He asked, studying your face.

You swallow “No not really.” You take another bite of your food, praying they don’t press the issue any further.

The family shares a look, silent but you noticed.

you pretend you didn’t.

Dick tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. But everyone seemed to be too lost in their thoughts to put in much effort.

The air remains heavy, the tension is palpable, and you feel everyone’s eyes on you.

It was the longest family dinner ever.

As the week drags on your family grows more intense.

It’s different this time.

They watch you closer, you never get any alone time. Even after spending more time with them than usual, they still expect something from you.

But what?

You don’t have time to think about that, todays the 14th, your first real valentine’s date. And you have everything planned.

At lunch you subtly drop a hint to Tim that you have this big chemistry project due tomorrow. Then after Lunch you’ll text Bruce and Alfred that you'll be home late, ‘working on it’. Bruce might check in with Tim, but Tim will confirm your story.

It’s practically fool proof.

Excitment courses through you all day. You have chemistry next, so you’ll be able to see Parker. You were just so excited— you deserved this.

At lunch Tim did not seem amused, in fact he looked quite pissed.

When you told him about your ‘Chemistry project’ he just forced a simile and nodded, he didn’t say anything for the rest of the period.

You didn’t pay him much mind though, you were to focused on your date.

As you walked through the halls to your chem class you kept glancing at your phone, waiting for Bruce’s response.

<y/n>

I have this super big chemistry project due tomorrow. My partner and I are gonna work on it together after school.

They’ll give me a ride back, don't worry.

<Bruce>

Ok, Tim will wait for you.

Shit.

what were you gonna do now? Tim was already onto you, there’s no way you’ll be able to go out now.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice Parker sitting down.

“Hey y/n you okay?”

You frown ”I don't think we’ll be able to go out today, my family is on my ass right now”

Why can’t you just have one nice thing, for once?

”oh” Parker pauses, they fiddle with their bag. Parker’s clearly upset about the situation as well. Then suddenly their face lights up.

Parker grins ”What if we go right now?” they exclaim. Quickly packing up their things.

You blink “What do you mean?”

“There’s only 10 minutes until class starts. We can leave right now and the teacher will never know” Excitement exudes from their voice.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

you’ve never even thought of skipping class before. You family would kill you.

But then again they’re the ones that never let you do anything. They control everything

So who cares what they do, you want to have fun.

A grin tugs on your lips. You scramble to pack up your stuff “sure lets do you”.

Parker gives that same childish smile from when they asked you out.

Despite the small voice telling you this is a bad idea, you felt excited, giddy.

you felt free.

You race to Parker’s car. A mix of adrenaline and excitement made you run faster than you ever have before.

Behind you, Parker struggled to up ”Jesus, Y/n— I’ve never seen you run so fast before” they gasped, hands on their knees trying to catch their breath.

You chuckle “sorry I got excited”

Parker shakes his head, same childish smile on their face as they unlock the car, before sitting on the driver’s side.

Before you get in you look back at the school. A shiver runs down your spine and a little voice whispers at you to turn back.

For a moment you pause. If you turn back now you wont be in any trouble.

You shake it off and hop into the seat.

+++

A cozy cafe would be the best choice. It’s close to the school you’ve been there a couple of times, and the food is really good.

As they pull into the parking lot you’re nervous. This is your first date, what is supposed to happen? What’s even the proper etiquette?

You shake your head and brush those thoughts away.

As you and Parker walk inside, you relax. The cafe is warm, with subtle pinks and blues on the wall. It smells like coffee and pastries. Parker picks a table near the back, and you settle down across from them.

Conversation between you two just seems to flow. You never realized how funny they are until today.

Any doubt you had washes away.

Once you’re finished giving the waitress your order, you take a sip of water enjoying Parker’s company. Then the bell to the door jingles.

You briefly glance up— just to see who’s there.

Bruce. Jason. Dick. Tim. Cass. Damian.

They stand in the doorway, eyes locked in on you. Their faces are unreadable.

your stomach drops.

You’re stuck. frozen like a deer in headlights, under the weight of their stare.

How did they know?

They make their way over to your table.

Bruce stops in front of you, towering over the table. “I’m disappointed y/n” his voice is monotone, but you can see the crinkle in his brows.

you just stare back at him. Too stunned to speak.

you try say something, anything. But the words die in your throat.

Dick grabs your arm, his grip is soft but firm. ushering you out of your seat.

Dick and Damian walk you out. You don’t resist, you couldn’t even if you wanted to.

Before you walk out the door you glance back.

Parker is surrounded.

Bruce says something too low for you to hear. Your chest sinks. You can only guess what they’re saying to them.

They look petrified.

It feels like an eternity before everyone else gets into the car.

“You’re grounded” Bruce states. A faint smile, barely there tugs at his lips.

You want to disappear forever.

Being grounded meant one thing.

You’ll never be alone again.

Tears start to slide down your checks, your voice wobbles ”I’m sorry— please don't ground me”

No one speaks.

No one listens.

You glance out the window, watching your freedom slip away.

I got my first request done!!!!!! As you can tell I need a lot of practice with writing short stories/oneshots. I suck at making things fast paced but I did my best. I hope you like it 🐈‍⬛ anon, tysm I had a lot of fun writing it. I also kept Parker GN so that way the reader can truly be any self insert. I’m working on CH. 03 of wicked Game rn so that’ll be what I post next. But if you have any ideas send a request I need more practice.

Also 215 followers! Thank you!!!

[yailtsv]

Valentines Chaos - Pazzi’s Daughter

💌 Syn: Paige & Azzi decided they wanted to go all out on all holidays for Rory, so on Valentine’s Day they spend it with the whole team.

»»— warnings: none

»»— notes: finally finished after like 3 weeks of trying to finish this 🙌

»»— word count: 1.4k

»»— pair: Pazzi x Daughter!Oc || Rory Bueckers

the last couple weeks have been…chaotic for the bueckers-fudd duo to say the least

while being student-athletes, playing basketball games two times a week, and being full time caregivers for a 1 year old, they are also trying to go all out on valentine’s day for rory.

rory has no idea about the holiday so they don’t even have to celebrate it like this until she’s maybe 2, but they want to have the memory of going all out on all holidays - even the ones were rory is to young to remember

for the last few weeks paige and azzi have been buying things for valentine’s day. they’ve bought ingredients to bake sweets, they’ve bought gifts, they’ve bought clothes, they’ve bought decorations, they’ve bought other foods, they’ve bought so much and still feel like it’s not enough and valentine’s day is tomorrow

which is why they are currently doing last minute shopping at target while caroline and kk babysit rory.

“we should get this for rory” paige says pointing to a large stuffed unicorn “YES” azzi says excitedly “remember azzi, i said for rory” paige says again

azzi pouts “i know what you said. put the unicorn in the cart.”

paige does as said with them eventually moving on to other parts of the store. during the whole store trip they joked about basically everything, argued about what they should and shouldn’t get a few times, and decided that they were also gonna shop for the girls and get them a few gifts.

a few of them are long distance with their significant other so they don’t get to see their lover today, and some of them broke up with their partner so they obviously can’t see them today, — plus all the girls were already gonna be at their dorm anyway so while they are going all out for rory, they also want to do that for the girls.

——————————————————————

after getting the remaining stuff they would need for valentine’s day (+ going overboard on team gifts) they payed and left the store deciding on stopping and getting food for them, caroline, kk, and rory before heading back home.

when getting home they could hear rory giggling and kk screaming, making both of them shake their head amusingly before paige opened the door

they both put the grocery bags in the closet by the door so none of the girls could see any of it before walking into the living room with the food bags

“honey we’re home” paige yells a little bit so she’s heard over the yelling

rory bounces on the couch when she sees paige and azzi, making azzi set down the drinks she was holding and go over - picking up the excited baby

“hi baby! hi! how are you my love?” azzi says in a tone matching rory’s excitement while kissing rory all over her face making her giggle

“hi sweetheart” paige says walking over to azzi and rory after setting the food bags down and letting rory wrap her tiny hand around paige’s finger

rory doesn’t speak yet or walk - i mean she did just turn 1 in december so duh, but even when she can’t speak she’s a VERY vocal baby.

she expresses her feelings through her face obviously, and makes noises to match those expressions.

right now she’s excited about seeing paige and azzi again and is showing that by bouncing in azzi’s arms, and giggling while gripping paige’s finger

kk, and caroline have just stood to the side letting the three of them have their moment - and honestly? taking secret pictures of the three of them

after eating and hanging out for a few hours caroline and kk left saying it was getting late, and paige had just put rory down for bed

while paige was putting rory to sleep azzi was getting out all of the stuff the bought for valentine’s day and setting it all in the living room

when paige walked back into the living room after a hard 25 minutes of rory not being able to go to sleep, paige walks into azzi already putting up some streamers

“decided you didn’t want to wait for me?” paige asked while wrapping her arms around azzi’s stomach - after sneaking up on her

azzi leans into paige wrapping her hands on paige’s that are resting on her stomach “i was just getting a head start-“

“uh-huh sure” paige mumbles into azzi’s neck, placing small kisses all over her neck and sucking gently on some places “rory asleep?” azzi asks tilting her head to the side to give paige more room “mhm” paige mumbles into the side of her neck again, pulling azzi closer to her by grabbing her waist

——————————————————————

it’s now the next day, paige and azzi had to wake up early to set up because they got…occupied last night and they had just now finished setting up.

the rooms were decorated, the gifts were put together and sitting on a table, all the food was made, and all the things they would need to bake the desserts were out on the counter neatly - waiting for the team to get here and for rory to wake up.

the team started to show up to paige and azzi’s dorm at around 8:30am, some coming in pairs, and some coming in groups

once the last few people got there at around 9:50am, azzi decided it was time to wake up rory. it took a little bit to wake her up but after around 10 minutes, azzi made her way into the living room with rory perched on azzi’s hip - her face buried in a’s neck too

“there’s the princess” caroline says after looking up and seeing azzi and rory, making everyone look up to see them, and then cheer

rory just hides more into azzi still trying to wake up properly, making azzi laugh a little bit

paige gets up and walks towards her girls, greeting rory with a kiss on her forehead while saying “good morning sweet girl, happy valentine’s day” rory obviously doesn’t know all the words she said but she still smiled and reached her small hand up to paige’s face

paige grabs rory’s hand off her cheek and kisses the palm of her hand, making rory laugh at the ticklish feeling.

paige, azzi, the uconn girls, and rory have been baking sweet treats for the last 4 hours, and when i say rory i mean she sat in her bouncer in the kitchen entrance watching all of them move around the kitchen

"umm who's been giving rory the desserts?" azzi says, after turning around from the counter and seeing a lot of missing deserts from the counter and chocolate covering rory's face and clothes

"what-" paige started, also turning around and seeing the same thing azzi did

"HA! HA! you're gonna have a sugar rush baby!" kk said pointing fingers at paige - as she is still mad at paige from the "argument" they had just a little bit ago

"bro shut up" paige says pushing kk away from her and walking towards rory - picking her up "hi baby, the deserts good?" paige asks with rory on her hip - rory just squirms in paige's grasp

everyone's just watching paige with rory - not knowing how to help this situation + no one has confessed either, azzi moved closer towards paige and rory, but still gave paige her space to help rory without needing azzi's assistance

——————————————————————

after that whole mess, paige went and got rory cleaned up and in a new outfit seeing as she had chocolate and icing all over her.

once rory was clean and back in the living room, the whole team was playing with rory to try to get her tired from the sugar rush, which eventually ended with kk running around the dorm with ice and jana chasing her, after something kk had said

but paige and azzi aren't judging what so ever because rory was laughing the whole time and succeeded in doing what they knew was gonna be difficult, in no time! - which was get the very hyper baby to calm down and take a nap

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03 @ldapper

[keefstars-mha]

Day 13: Promises

"Deku would propose first" "Bakugo would propose first"

You're WRONG.

They're COMPETING for the rest of their lives dammit you know they're competing about this too

Following @inkandpainter 's Valentines Challenge: link

[every-sanji]

[mechazushi]

Pink [It's my Favorite Color] {A Kaiju Number 8 Short Story} <Smut>

Tags] IhaReno, Breif Mention of KafHoshi, Intense Making-Out, Hickeys, Unprotected Sex, Love Hotel, Creampie, Mild Intoxication (just a liquid courage amount, not enough for questionable consent.) Scratching/Bruising, Cock Worshipping, Iharu Is A Blushing Mess. (Let me know if there was anything else I should have tagged.)

{So originally, I wanted to write this story in such a way that the pace of it matched the rhythm of the song, but I very quickly realized that I physically CAN'T bring myself to write something that can be read in under 4 minutes. In the end, this is just here to let yall know that this story was directly inspired by this song. and to explain away the sudden appearence of Reno's cock-worshipping mindset, iykyk,}

Holidays always managed to slip past Reno. If it wasn't for his classmates all around him getting excited for them, he probably would have grown up ignoring it altogether. As sad as it was, it was mainly because he never really felt close enough to anyone to bother keeping track of them. This time... this time was different. He felt like he had finally met someone worth celebrating with. Or, for the sake of the holiday, had someone to ask to be his Valentine.

The division liked to go a little extra for the holidays. Nothing crazy like catered parties and live music, but had been known to rent out a building or two. For Valentine's Day, they had decided to buy out a ritzy bar that was off a secluded side street. It was a fairly new bar that had started to develop rave reviews, to the point that most people in the Third Division had heard of it. Everyone wanted to show out. Got new outfits, wore make-up, the works. Haruichi even offered and encouraged some if the guys to wear make-up as well.

Reno was standing outside of the bar in as nice of an outfit he could bring himself to wear. He wore a pair of white slacks with matching shoes. He had Haruichi help slick his hair back, but for the trouble was forced to at least try on this shimmery pink eyeliner he had bought for the occasion. It was a justified reason as it matched the Star of his outfit, a very loudly patterned, button up, pink, silk dress shirt. Everyone had kept telling him that he looked fine, but on the inside he felt more like a disco floor reject.

As he looked at the entrance of the bar, his arm was abruptly nudged by Kafka and the bottle he was holding. For some reason, he had decided to buy a bottle of Hennessy and was passing it around the group. Not everyone could get off at the same time, so him and Kafka were a part of a group of late-comers. Reno wasn't really fond of the idea of pre-gaming, but he had to admit that between showing up late and going into this party with a plan and a purpose had made him incredibly nervous. Taking the bottle, he quickly swallowed the last sip of the harsh liquid and hissed at its taste.

Tossing the bottle away, the group lined up and made their way inside. Letting his eyes adjust to the dark interior, his attention was first caught by the subtle heart decor. All there was to see was some pink and red heart shaped paper doilies hanging from the ceiling. Other than that they had changed the back lighting behind the bar to a rotating pattern of hot pink, red, and white. For the most part they let the dark wood walls and leather furniture speak for itself. The main draw in for the place seemed to be the new Valentine's Day drink menu. Reno casually saddled up to the bar and ordered something fancy sounding with creme liquor and strawberry juice. While it was being made, his eyes flowed over to his person of interest sitting down at the other end of the bar.

Iharu Furuhashi, dressed subliminally punk as usual, only now he made his style match tonight's theme as well. He had freshly dyed his Mohawk in its ever present pink color, but had made the tips of his spiky locks a vibrant red. Thick silver rings adorning most of his fingers matched the square metal studs that lined his leather biker jacket. He wore a pink turtle neck sweater that was cropped and matching high tops, both of which framed a pair of low cut jeans so tight they looked painted on. He was leaning back against the bar while engaged in some apparently hilarious commentary as he nursed a large mug of pink beer.

Reno felt incredibly nervous just sitting at the same bar he was at. For a while the two of them had been in this give-and-take, playfully competitive relationship. At first, Reno just went along with it because he figured that's just how Iharu liked his friendships. It was all pretty harmless, just some combative banter in the basic "Anything you can do, I can do better" format. But lately, it had started to feel different. More... charged. Ambitious, even. Reno wasn't slow, he could tell when he was being flirted with, but this was the first time he couldn't tell if Iharu was playing it off as a joke or if he wanted to be serious.

It didn't help that Reno had come to terms with the fact that he actually did want Iharu to be serious. He liked the casual competitiveness, he liked the intense energy, he liked having someone there to push him and to have someone there to push back. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him got off on the fact that there might be a chance he could make that feeling exclusive. He wasn't possessive by nature, but he did like that it filled a niche part of his brain that apparently decided that it would like a deeper relationship. Especially if he could have it with the one person that could give him that intense feeling on tap. He may not look like it, but as it turns out, Reno... liked 'em loud.

As he sat there sipping on his cocktail, a large and unignorable presence had decided now would be a good time to annoy him. Kafka had plopped onto the bar stool next to him and quietly ordered a rum and coke. As it was put in front of him, he turned and nodded to get Reno's attention. After he got it, he jutted his chin toward the other end of the bar, obviously pointing out Iharu and the lack of Reno existing next to him. Reno flexed his eyes in a way of him saying that he's working on it, only to have Kafka roll his eyes back at him. Taking a sip of his coke, he grabbed Reno's drink with the same hand and abruptly gripped the back of his pants with the other. Reno yelped as he felt himself getting lifted out of the seat and being forced to walk toward Iharu's direction.

As Iharu was turned around, Kafka slammed Reno's drink on the counter and dropped him into the seat next to the punk. Reno threw his arms out wide, wanting to yell at him for his behavior, but Kafka had already left him in the dust. He was left gobsmacked as watched Kafka head to the other side of the room and quietly slipped his hand into the Vice Captain's back pants pocket. With the sound of the drink hitting the counter, Iharu turned around just in time to notice Reno suddenly sitting right next to him.

"Sweet Jesus!" Iharu exclaimed as he gave Reno an appreciative look-over, "Look at you, Hot Stuff! New fit and everything!"

Reno immediately felt a rush of blood hit his face as he gave into a knee-jerk reaction of covering his mouth and looking away.

"Ahh, sorry. Too much?" Iharu murmured with an apologetic smirk.

"N-no, just." Reno stammered as he forced himself to look back, "Last thing I expected you to say, I guess."

"Yeah, sure, but can you really blame me? With the way you're stunnin' everyone tonight." Iharu remarked as he reached over and lightly slapped the back of his hand against Reno's arm.

"Please, I look like I stepped out of the 70's." Reno scoffed as he took a sip of his drink. He immediately felt like biting his tongue as the words left his mouth. After all, he only picked the shirt out because it reminded him of Iharu.

"Nah, man! All you have to do is just act like your naturally cool self and take a lap. Trust me, you're gonna send everyone here flying flat onto their ass." Iharu continued to try his best to keep his partner's confidence up, but it was clear to the both of them that he was laying the compliments on thick tonight.

"Kinda like how I handled your ass back in training yesterday?" Reno reflexively countered with the first thing that came to mind. Now he just felt like cutting out his tongue because who responds to something like that! He came here to ask Iharu out, not dunk on him! Thankfully, not all hope was lost as he heard a hearty laugh come from his man of the hour.

"Hey, just know that if picking up people was like a fight, you'd have already swept me off my feet." Iharu couldn't bring himself to look at Reno as he tossed out his cheesiest line, but the embarrassment didn't stop his hand from reaching down to Reno's thigh and mask some gently yearning squeezes behind a friendly pat. Reno's gaze flickered between the hand that was just on his leg and the slowly building blush Iharu was currently trying to hide in the dimly lit bar.

"Well, someone's decided to stop being subtle tonight." Reno thought. This was good. Amazing, actually. Against all odds, this was starting to turn into something he felt like he could work with.

"Have to admit though, did not think you would come in here wearing something pink in the first place." Iharu cleared his throat as he spoke, trying to dissipate the sudden tension he didn't mean to make.

"Oh, why's that?" Reno asked, hoping it would lead to something he could play off of.

"Well, I mean... not to lay claim to an entire portion of the color spectrum, but pink's always been kinda my thing. Ya know?" Iharu commented as he side-eyed Reno from behind his beer mug, "Can I ask what made you want to take the color out for a spin?"

Reno bit at the rim of his glass so he could force down an evil chuckle at what he was about to say. He began to hope that he hadn't been reading Iharu wrong this whole time and that his stupid, half-thought out plan was actually about to work.

"This, uh, might come as a surprise to you, but-" Reno started to speak, but interrupted himself so he could throw a leg over Iharu's lap. Leveraging the heel of his shoe into the swivel seat he was on, Reno forced Iharu to face him as he got as close as he could comfortably get in such a position. Placing his chin in his hand, Reno tried to communicate his real intent through his gaze as best he could as he finished his previous thought.

"-Pink is actually my favorite color." He smirked.

Saying pink was his favorite color seemed to be the right choice. It wasn't long before the two of them slipped away from the party and ended up passing through an emergency exit door that opened out into a secluded side alley. If Reno wasn't getting slammed onto the wall next to it, he probably would have started questioning how the alarm didn't immediately go off. However, he was currently getting his hips firmly pressed up to the wall as Iharu took the lead and started to enthusiastically attack Reno's mouth with his.

Small gasps and stilted moans echoed down the alley as Reno fisted the leather jacket. He had to forcefully unclench his hands to move them anywhere, and could tell they were shaking as he shifted them under the jacket. His hands traced the hem of the pants, ghosting over the strip of exposed skin that revealed Iharu's prominent hips, and up the front of the sweater. He felt lost in the kiss as he hands squeezed the soft fabric, a lackluster attempt to keep him grounded. As his hands came around the back of the sweater, he suddenly felt a cool expanse of smooth skin underneath the jacket.

"Holy shit, is this backless?" Reno pulled away in surprise as his hands quickly traced the edges of the hidden opening.

"Surprise." Iharu chuckled darkly, "Wait till you see the back of the collar." He began to kiss and nip a path down Reno's jaw to his neck, loudly relishing the taste of his skin.

Intrigued, Reno quickly pulled a hand back out and roughly pulled on the back of the coat. Iharu shimmied his shoulders a little to expose the back of his neck. Reno pulled his head more to the side so he could look over more. Sure, it made his collar bone vulnerable to Iharu's viciously lovely nipping, but now he could see what he was talking about. A wide, bright pink, silk bow was the only thing holding the collar around the neck, and by proxy the rest of the sweater.

"Fuuuck," Reno roughly gasped, "Who knew you could be so adorable?"

"You're about to find out just how -fucking- adorable I can get, Sweet Heart." Iharu smirked as he earnestly licked over all of the reddened pinpricks he left all over Reno's clavicle.

He slotted a leg in between Reno's and forcefully pulled his hips over it, making him grind on Iharu's thigh. Reno moaned loudly as one of his legs came up and locked its ankle behind the one he was rubbing up on. The one hand that was still under the jacket dug and scratched a short ways down Iharu's back, causing a stuttering gasp as he bit a trail back up the other side of Reno's neck. Hot breaths and warm tongues collided as their grips on each other tightened.

Reno felt like he was floating through heaven. This was everything he felt like he was craving and more. He had wondered if their push-and-pull friendship would carry over into something like this, and now that he had it, he hoped he wouldn't ever have to go back to how they were before. Not after getting a taste of what it would be like to push someone over the edge of ecstasy and get dragged along on the journey. It felt like being both the passenger and the tracks of a roller coaster, just building and waiting and hoping this crazy ride wouldn't end.

Reno's mouth became even more eager as he continued to feel Iharu's back get warmer under his hand. As it traveled around, it drifted south and made a home on Iharu's ass, groping it and forcing their hips impossibly closer together. He felt like he couldn't get enough of their carnal contact as he tried to get Iharu to grind back. The hand that was on the jacket pulled forward and tried to shove itself in between them, beginning to desperately paw at the matching studded belt buckle. Reno quickly became distracted with the endeavor, panting as he pulled away from the intense and sloppy make-out to curse out the unbroken leather of the new belt.

"Well shit! Someone's eager tonight." Iharu rasped as he licked away Reno's taste on his lips.

"Wanna touch it." Reno quietly whined, "Wanna watch it and feel it and taste it and make you make a mess of yourself." His chest and legs felt like they were on fire as he brought the other hand around to unbuckle the stubborn belt.

"Whoa there! Out here in this alley? We're gonna get caught, Doll." Iharu huskily teased as he held Reno's hands in place.

Reno pouted at the obstruction before diving forward and sucking Iharu's lips back into his mouth. He licked and nibbled on them as he harshly tugged on the belt, slamming his lover back on his heated body.

"Don't make me wait for this." Reno pleaded as he flipped them around and pressed Iharu up against the wall this time, capturing his lips again.

Iharu humored him for a second before rudely shoving him backwards. Reno stumbled for a moment, face wide with shock and fear and was left wondering if he overstepped something. He was left even more confused as Iharu snagged his wrist and started to drag him out of the alley and down the sidewalk. Reno turned back to watch the bar's entrance quickly become farther and farther away before turning back to look at Iharu's smug expression.

"Who said I was going to?" He remarked.

Very quickly understanding what Iharu was offering, Reno stopped dragging his feet out of concern and immediately matched his partner's rapid pace. The two of them broke out into a run, dodging pedestrians left and right with no idea where they were going but never letting go of each other's hands. The two of them kept running for a while, knowing what they were looking for but had to find it first. They didn't have to go much farther as they eventually found a brightly decorated hotel that had gone all out on the heart shaped holiday decorations.

Bursting through the doors, Reno reached the frosted check in window first and made the reservation. After getting the key, he was abruptly pulled along by Iharu and almost shoved into the elevator. Their lips never broke contact the second they got in, but had to break apart pretty quickly afterward as their room was only on the next floor up. Reno fumbled with the door key for a second, getting distracted by Iharu planting eager kisses on the back of his neck. Everything paused for a moment once they finally got the room open.

Pink. The whole room was pink. Pink walls, pink sheets, pink fluffy rug and shear curtains, pink tulle bunting on the ceiling held up with heart shaped string lights made out of that squishy rubber bead material. There was even a five-ish foot tall pink lava floor lamp rippling in the corner of the room. Reno suddenly remembered what he said earlier about pink being a favorite color and now wanted to eat his words. Iharu wasn't deterred in the slightest and looked around the room in delightful amazement.

"That's coming back with us." He laughed as he pointed to the lamp.

Reno spun on his toes and slammed Iharu up against the door of the room, silencing any more creative ideas from the audacious punk.

"We are not stealing the lamp from the fucking love hotel." Reno muttered as he punched his lips back onto Iharu's.

His lips traveled quickly down Iharu's neck as he tried to catch up to the amount of hickeys he was sporting on his own neck. As Reno sucked and licked dark patches on the plains of his neck, Iharu got to work unbuttoning his shirt.

"Come on, it'd look great in that one corner of the barracks." Iharu gasped as his head collided against the door, stretching his neck to give Reno more room to work with.

"It's definitely not going into the Divisions's personal shrine." Reno growled around the chunk of flesh in between his teeth, thinking about the pile of sacred junk everyone prayed to before missions.

"Aww, you're no fun!" Iharu whined playfully as he got to the last button on the shirt.

Feeling freed from the confines of the shirt, Reno took his cue to drop to his knees in front of Iharu, "Fun? I'll show you fun." He threatened salaciously.

He began to nuzzle against the stretched outline of Iharu's hard cock in the tight pants. Lightly mouthing over it as he gripped and squeezed those firm and defined thighs. Iharu gasped over and over, mainly from shock, as he watched Reno place light kisses over the now wet jeans and went back to fumbling with the stiff leather belt. Reno wasted no time in getting the dark jeans down far enough to free the boxers so he could get to the hard member. Pulling those down too, he let himself take a minute to watch the cock bounce free in front of his face.

Reno couldn't stop himself from biting his lip as he admired it. He tentatively brushed his cheek against the scorching skin before littering it in airy kisses. Airy kisses turned into teasing kitten-licks turned into full-on lapping mouthfuls as he got more confident he was treating Iharu right, if the stuttering and shaking gasps was anything to go by. Reno moved on from the shaft towards the leaking tip and gently sucked it into his wet mouth. He gripped its length and lapped at the salty precum that came out. Reno lightly sucked on the sensitive tip, quietly moaning and eye lids fluttering as he felt Iharu's shaky hands grabbed small fistfuls of his hair and tightened on them.

Reno wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he might have liked dick more than the average person. Even knowing he was gay, there was something about how they were shaped and felt and looked that he couldn't get enough of. He never completely understood that quiet voice in the back of his head that slowly got louder and louder when he was in the bath house with other guys, but since it never really got him in trouble before he just let it simmer in the back of his mind. That was the case until Reno met him. Something broke in the back of his mind when he met Iharu in the recruitment ceremony.

That little voice was quiet at first, but it stunned Reno nonetheless by the fact he hadn't even seen Iharu naked yet. That small voice really wanted to apparently because he couldn't stop himself from trying to see what kind of peak he could sneak every time they got together. For the most part, he just chalked it up to that weird little obsession of his, not wanting to explore any further with it at the risk of accidentally making Iharu uncomfortable. But now that he had it in front of him, he finally understood. To Reno, it looked perfect. The perfect shape, size, color, even taste.

It wasn't ungodly long or wide, just a bit longer than his fist and wide enough that he could still fit his mouth around it. Iharu tasted only slightly bitter, but mostly salty and not to a point it bothered him. Reno even felt a little insane thinking that he even smelled good, not knowing what it was but still wanting more of it. What he liked most about it was the color. A little redder than Iharu's natural skin tone with a bulbous, hot pink tip. How his brain instinctively knew that Iharu's dick was perfect for him, he would never know.

But it certainly made Reno wonder if pink really was his favorite color.

Feeling bolder, he slowly sunk down on Iharu's cock as he tongued the underside of it. He eventually felt it prodding the back of his throat as it made tears well up in his eyes. He tried not to choke on its length while his tongue and lips danced at its base, nose digging into the ghostly patch of fine hair just under Iharu's navel. The hands in Reno's hair began to pull tighter once one of his hands came back up to play with his balls. Iharu began to cry and curse louder as Reno started to slowly bob his head.

"Oh, Fuck!" Iharu growled as his fingers flexed and scratched at Reno's scalp, completely ruining his neatly combed hair

Reno couldn't care about anything right now. His knees were stinging and his pants had long since become uncomfortably tight. His jaw was burning and he could feel his saliva dripping down his chin. One or two tears had fully escaped his eyes and fell down to mix itself in with the rest of the mess he was becoming. He could feel his throat getting sore but the pain did nothing to make him want to stop. Reno could feel the hands on his head getting insistent and made it clear he should pry himself off of Iharu's dick for a second.

"Sorry. Too much?" He looked up and gulped down fresh air, suddenly hearing how rough and strained his voice sounded.

Iharu's eyes went wide as he heard it too, swallowing thickly as his own throat went dry.

"Ye-yeah, just a little. But I also just, um, figured that maybe you'd like a t-turn.' He stuttered over his words as his blood set fire to his face.

"Nope. Fine right where I am, actually." Reno quickly countered as he almost dived right back into action.

Iharu's hands held him in place as he tried to talk again, "What I meant was that I want to switch things up."

"What'd you have in mind?" Reno asked distractedly, already going back to planting tiny pecks on the well slicked cockhead.

"My God, take the fucking hint." Iharu's eyes squeezed as he muttered to the sky, "I-I want you to fuck me..." He trailed off quietly.

Reno did hear him, but seeing that deep blush flare up harder over his lovers face and reach the tips of his ears made him feel like teasing him a little more.

"Oh? Didn't quite catch that." He smirked as his fingers came up to play around with the stiff member again.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me." Iharu hotly groaned as his head slammed against the door again.

"Then I guess you're just gonna have to tell me how to save you then." Reno coaxed as he sinfully dragged his tongue up the cock's slit.

"GOD, I want you to fuck me already!" Iharu shouted.

Reno let out a small giggle before grabbing his embarrassed lover by his knees and lifting him up from the floor. Iharu let out a shocked yelp as he gripped Reno by his shoulders as to lot flop over backwards and send them both falling back to the floor. Carefully marching over to the soft pink bed, Reno playfully slammed Iharu onto it and pulled him close to lather him in another layer of kisses. It didn't last long as he quickly pulled back and took the rest of the shirt off.

"So, how'd you want this to go?" Reno panted as he shifted gears and started to unbutton his pants.

Iharu watched dumbfounded for a moment before rapidly shimmying his pants off as well, "Okay so, ever heard the phrase 'Topping from the bottom'?"

Reno paused out of sudden interest halfway through pulling one leg out of his slacks and almost fell over from a sudden lack of balance, "Yeah. Yeah, I can work with that." He said once he caught himself.

He quickly pulled off the rest of the outfit and practically launched himself at the head of the bed, pushing the pillows back as far as they could go so he could sit upright. He couldn't keep the wild grin from his face as he made an insistent grabby gesture at his lover. Iharu struggled a little bit trying to get the pants with the shoes at the same time. Once he got them off, he aggressively threw them across the room into an available white leather arm chair. He shed the jacket and tossed it in the same direction, but was stopped before he could lose the halter sweater.

"Don't. That stays on till I tell you." Reno rakishly commanded, his gaze heated and his pose openly inviting.

The deep blush Iharu had on his cheeks quickly exploded past the tips of his ears and skyrocketed down and over his shoulders. His jaw dropped open as he matched Reno's heated look with one of sudden fascination. His heart slammed against his chest as he slowly shifted to his hands and knees. He swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing visibly as he took his time crawling his way over to Reno's bare and awaiting lap. Straddling his legs once he got closer, Iharu bit down hard on his lip as his gaze sluggishly passed over Reno's excited form. His breath audibly shook once he felt more and more of Reno's cool skin making contact with his over-heated self.

"Hey. Is this still okay?" Reno calmly asked, his gaze softening as his hands came up to sooth Iharu's burning cheeks.

"Yeah, fine." Iharu placated for a second, 'It's just... This might sound stupid now, but-it's one thing to see each other naked at work but it feels entirely different when... when you-"

"Yeah." Reno gently scoffed as he vaguely finished Iharu's sentence for him, "This is... different alright."

Reno's thumbs twitched over Iharu's cheek bones as he quickly licked his lips. He took a short breath before gently pulling on Iharu's face, wordlessly wanting him closer. Taking the hint, Iharu shifted until he was fully seated in Reno's lap and his hands came up to forcefully grip at the pink pillows behind his head. Their gasps were short and shaky as they felt the exchange of their natural temperature clash and ebb out. Moans were choked as they felt their cocks brush up and slide against each other. Reno couldn't bring himself to look away from the alluring show while Iharu's attention was kept on his partner's face.

Feeling an odd twinge of jealousy at the divided attention, Iharu dove forward to brush his nose against Reno's, redirecting his attention. Reno looked up and saw nothing but a wildfire in the depths of his eyes, those pupils blown wide and his orange irises now super-heated ring of melted gold. Iharu's blush had gotten so intense that it turned his skin patchy, like it was the surface of a bubbling river of lava. Almost as if that same river appeared behind him, Reno crashed against Iharu and captured those kissed-plump lips, devouring his mouth like a dead man's last meal. Reno's hands dropped from Iharu's face to his shoulders and then to his hips, promptly tugging him closer and elicited a rough groan from the blushing punk.

Quickly growing unsatisfied with the rough friction, Reno reached out to the side and patted his hand around the top of the nightstand absentmindedly. Once his had brushed up against something resembling a tube, he broke away from the kiss to focus on it and made sure it was what he wanted. It was a small bottle with a flip cap, so he managed to pour out some lube into his hands and started to swirl it around his fingers so it could warm up in his hand. The other hand had come up to assert itself in Iharu's gravity defying hair and pull him back in, the brief absence making Reno hungry for more of their carnal connection.

"Hold on." Iharu suddenly interjected, worry causing him to chew on his lips.

"What, is everything okay?" Reno asked, his eyes searching Iharu's face for any clue for the interruption.

"Look, not to beat a dead horse here, but..." Iharu started as he continued to look anywhere but Reno's face, You're sure you want... to do this? With me, that is. I mean, it's just..." While his words weren't clear themselves, Reno got the impression of what he was trying to communicate.

Reno leaned his head forward until it gently nudged against Iharu's and drew their attention to the present, "And here I thought you'd have enough confidence for the both of us." He puffed out sarcastically, the cheeky grin he had making Iharu roll his eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I ever plan to be nervous about anything, it's just... well... don't make me say it..." Iharu tried to counter before collapsing under the weight of his nerves.

"Hmmmm-First time?" Reno hummed teasingly as the hand in Iharu's hair came down to his cheek.

"Don't say it like that you're not in the same boat! And it doesn't help that you're not acting nervous at all here, so thanks for setting the bar high again." Iharu pouted as he watched Reno force down a giggle.

"Honestly, how do you even do it." Iharu quietly whispered as he nuzzled affectionately into the now warm hand.

Reno's hand drifted further down his face and came to settle around the back of his neck, his thumb lovingly brushing a spot just behind Iharu's ear.

"Because right now... I love you more than I can care about anything else right now." Reno said as his soul was laid bare in his violet eyes.

Iharu's fierce blush fired up again and set more than his face on fire this time, causing the angry splotches to flare up not just over his shoulders now but all the way down his chest. His eyes began to shine and his lip quivered slightly before burying his head in the crook of Reno's neck.

"Fucking suave bastard." He muttered into the cool skin.

"We're trying to, at least." Reno teased.

"Shut up and start fingering me before I run screaming into the night." Iharu muttered a little louder as his arms came to relax around Reno's neck.

Reno giggled a little more as his slicked up hand came around Iharu's back. The other hand massaged the back of his lover's neck as he nosed at what little skin he could reach through the plush sweater collar. Reno drank in the ghostly wafts of the spicy cologne Iharu sported tonight, a pleasantly loud blend of cinnamon, orange oil, and laurel. It smelled wonderful and helped act as a distraction for Reno as his finger started to slowly circle Iharu's asshole. He may not have looked like it, but he was just as nervous on the inside. He may have never been with anyone like this before now, but his main focus in this moment was making sure that tonight was enjoyable for both of them.

With the main concern being that he didn't want to hurt Iharu, Reno started slow, only using light pressure with his middle finger. It slid in easily, more so after he started to piston it and curl around experimentally. The careful actions began to ease out short snippets of whimpers from Iharu as he grew more accustomed to the sensation. He even began to relax and shifted his legs out wider, entrusting more of his weight to be spread over Reno's body. He especially liked it when the movement caused their cocks to rub together again and drew out another shaky gasp from the man under him.

"Still feeling okay?" Reno asked as he teased a second finger at the entrance.

"Yeah." Iharu sighed blissfully, "Definitely feels different when someone else is taking charge."

"Oh?" Reno caught on to the implication with interest, "Do you do this to yourself often?"

Iharu's body jolted a little as he realized what he said, "Sh-shut up." he quietly stuttered.

"Nah, I wanna hear more of this." Reno chuckled, "Do you do it often? Do you do it in the bathhouse when no one is looking? Don't tell me you wait to mess around in the barracks when everyone else is asleep." He continued to whisper teasingly into Iharu's ear, causing him to whimper louder and louder with each insinuation.

"Everyone's out like a light at that point!" Iharu openly whined, "It's not like anyone can hear me over all the snoring anyway!"

"But I'm right under you." Reno continued to investigate, "And you know I'm a light sleeper. You can't tell me that you've been doing this for a while and I haven't caught you before." With how close their chests were, he could almost feel how fast Iharu's heart rate spiked when he said that. Added on to the fact that Iharu had suddenly decided to hold back on his cute little noises, Reno started to develop the feeling that he was on to something.

"Or have I?" He teased as he finally slipped in the second finger, "Those little late night talks of ours? The ones where I hear you call my name out first? Is that you? Are you trying to cover up what you're doing, spreading yourself open as you call out my name?" Iharu bit his lip in an attempt not to openly moan, not wanting to let Reno catch on too easily to how much he was enjoying this.

"You dirty perv." Reno quietly provoked as his fingers bottomed out in Iharu's ass, "You've been getting away with this for how long? Calling out my name all those times?" The sudden intrusion broke Iharu's concentration and caused a sharp gasp to be punched out of him.

"Wish you would have told me sooner." Reno smirked as he began to nibble on an earlobe, "Would've liked to come up to your level. Maybe I could've helped you keep quiet." He tacked on as he brushed the tip of his tongue along the shell of Iharu's ear.

Iharu's moans were still on the shaky side of things, but nothing stopped him from rocking back onto Reno's confident fingers. He didn't move very far, just enough to make the fingers inside him bottom out with every stroke and slide their stiff lengths together. Precum began to leak out of both of them as they got caught up in the erotic movement, making the grind feel smoother. Feeling bold, Reno briefly scissored Iharu open just enough to slide in a third finger and catch him unaware. Iharu openly moaned at the surprising stretch as he pushed all the way down without a second thought.

"A-ahh!" Iharu groaned as he started to shake in his hold.

"So smart of you to take us somewhere special. Don't have to worry about getting caught." Reno panted as he felt more and more turned on by his lover's precious noises, "Be as loud as you want babe... wanna hear you." He began to nip and suckle dark spots on all the sensitive areas of Iharu's neck that he could reach.

"Ah fuck!" Iharu continued to let out choked gasps right by Reno's ear as he felt the fingers inside him flex and move around, almost brushing against his prostate.

"So smart. So warm. So pretty. And it's all for me, isn't it?" Reno continued to praise him as he flexed his fingers some more, trying his best to find that one spot that would finally send Iharu over the edge and make him spill.

"Fuck! Fuck, wait!" Iharu choked down a heated cry just so he could gather the strength to push away from Reno to make a point. He almost forgot what he was about to say and nearly caved to darker interests when he heard a low and irritated growl rumble out from Reno's throat.

"Just want you in me first before I come, that's all!" Iharu blurted out in a rush, having been caught off guard by how Reno's almost primal glare was making him feel.

An audible gulp was heard when he saw Reno's veiled sneer turned into a motivated grin. Reno pulled out his fingers gently and poured more lube on his hand before he gave his sensitive cock a couple of deft tugs. The punk braced himself by gripping Reno's shoulders as he shifted himself just enough to line up with the eager dick under him. Reno stopped and moved his hand so he could line himself up with Iharu's slick and twitching entrance. As he pulled his legs up behind Iharu for added support, Reno wiped off the excess lube onto the back of his thigh.

Reno pulled his other hand down and slowly gripped the other's waist. He took a long moment to admire the deep and pronounced hip dips that Iharu had and how he loved the way his thumb and palm slotted nicely into them. Iharu forced himself to breathe evenly as he slowly sank down onto the offered cock. Both of their bodies began to tremor from the unfamiliar sensation, the glide of it all feeling incredibly smooth and warm. Heady pants and electrified gasps filled the small room as Iharu managed to keep a steady pace of sinking down a little at a time before backing up slightly.

Iharu's eyes were screwed shut as he voiced his pleasure to the ceiling, hands tightly gripping the other man's shoulders to the point they left crescent nail marks in the skin. Reno couldn't tear his eyes away from the delicious sight of Iharu's body taking him in a little at a time. He bit the inside of his cheek for focus, forcing himself not to roughly buck up into the wet and welcoming heat. Iharu was silently glad that Reno added that third finger at the last second, thinking that this would have taken longer had he not. Reno wasn't long which felt like a small blessing in the moment, but he was certainly wide.

Once Iharu had finally sat all the way down on the hard cock, he immediately grinded on it, vocally relishing the full feeling it had carved into his stomach. His moans became intensely pitchy because of that, and made himself take a moment to come back down from the sudden high it caused. Reno hissed as his grip on his hips became all the tighter, almost to the point he wondered if it was going to leave a bruise. Iharu's hands released their grip and slowly traveled down Reno's arms, reflexively gripping his biceps as they passed, and settled down close to his wrists. Taking the hint, Reno loosened his grip and instead made his hands massage Iharu's taut stomach.

Reno pulled his legs up some more as he leaned forward, practically sandwiching Iharu with his body. Iharu whimpered at the movement, ass twitching around the cock inside him as he helped pull Reno closer. Reno stretched his neck as far as he could once they were close enough and bit the pink ribbon at the back of Iharu's neck. He could only grab at the loop of it, so it took some harsh tugging and yanking to pull enough ribbon out of its knot. Iharu giggled a little at the irritated grunts and huffs Reno was making as he chewed the bow loose. He eventually had enough and just reached up to finish it off before biting the collar in the end to pull it away. His hand went back down quickly, but Reno took his time pushing the sweater's hem up Iharu's super heated body.

Reno couldn't help but gasp once he saw the lithe expanse of Iharu's flushed chest. It had gone fully red at this point, From the tips of his ears and hairline, almost all the way down to his navel looked like Iharu had been dunked in red Kool-aid that had stained his skin. Drawing his eyes back up, Reno even noticed that it has even spread to his shoulders a little. When their eyes met, Reno felt he got sucked in to whatever world Iharu was floating through at this moment. With a heavy gaze and blown pupils, lips parted and shiny from spit, Iharu looked gone. His head feeling so far above the clouds it made him wonder how he could still breathe. His gaze was warm, his body felt hot, and Reno was prepared to dive into the fire.

Reno leaned forward and started to slowly lap at Iharu's chest, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses right over his heart. His hand came up to the other side of the chest and immediately began to squeeze at the small pec that he had found there. Teasing his thumb over the rounded nub, Reno moved his mouth's attention to the other side and suckled on the other nipple. Iharu grunted at the ministrations, his hands coming back to rest around Reno's shoulders. Iharu's hips began to twitch and grind when he felt Reno move from gentle rubbing and licking, to pinching, twisting and biting. Once Reno switched sides, his now unoccupied hand slid back down to Iharu's hip and pulled on it. He groaned hotly when he felt Iharu's dripping cock press up against his abs and made his ass twitch around his in tandem.

Already feeling like he was close, Iharu tried to move things along as he rose up on shaky knees and carefully slammed down, bouncing as he hit bottom. This punched a heady moan out of the both of them, with Reno's bruising grip making a return appearance. Iharu continued to chase that feeling, that feeling of being stuffed full over and over again as he rocked up and down at an even pace. Reno leaned back against the pillows as both his hands came back to Iharu's waist. Reno held them tight as he snapped his own hips up to match their pace, slamming him down on his cock and drawing out louder and louder moans. Iharu felt like he couldn't get enough but knew he could take things further.

Leaning forward and pressing their heaving chest together, Iharu captured Reno's lips as he felt the cock inside him hit at a different angle. Tongues lashed in between breathy moans as he finally felt Reno's stiff length bash at his prostate. Reno shifted his hips just enough to bring extra power into their thrusts, sending Iharu spiraling. A hand left its home on Iharu's hip and snaked its way in between them to roughly tug on the weeping cock bouncing against Reno's stomach. Iharu started to openly curse now, broken and choppy curses were hotly ghosting past Reno's ear.

"Ah, ha-fuck! Ah, FUCK! Cl-close. I'm close." Iharu gasped as he couldn't stop himself from bucking in both directions, chasing the delicious friction from Reno's hand and the electrified hammer-strikes he felt from his cock hitting deep inside.

"Do it." Reno commanded in that moment, "Told you I wanted to watch you make a mess- fuck!" He rasped as he felt Iharu twitch suddenly as his thrusts melted out of rhythm.

The other hand came up to grip Iharu's hair as Reno let him chase his high on his own. He definitely felt close, but wanted to be present enough to watch Iharu fall from his blissed out precipice. Reno's eyes kept switching from Iharu's messy cock to the tight and tense expression he held as he fought to break apart from the building heat in his core. With shaking legs and a victorious cry, Iharu freed himself from the mounting tension within him and came hot and hard all over Reno's chest.

Any strength Iharu needed to hold himself up with vanished as his orgasm dissipated through his exhausted body. His arms crashed against the pillows behind them as he slumped all of his weight onto Reno. The both of them were panting heavily, feeling numb to anything else outside of the still present and intense body heat between them. Reno had to bite his lip against any noise he may have wanted to make as he felt Iharu's dick rub some of his sticky load over more of his abs. He mentally thanked his balls for their service as he felt his body naturally back away from what would have been a similar explosion of passion, but hadn't reached the edge in time to join Iharu.

"Shhhhuuu...wow. Just... wow." Iharu babbled as he was at a loss for words.

"Yeah." Reno pathetically agreed. They stayed there, lifeless and tired for a moment, as they drank in the post-nut atmosphere.

"Damn, and here I was hoping to last a little longer." Iharu breathlessly admitted once he managed to scrape together enough braincells to use.

"You lasted plenty long. A lot longer than I figured, definitely." Reno tried to comfort as he lazily patted at the now ruined mohawk.

"Yeah, but I mean..." Iharu started as he shifted his hips and drew attention to the still very excited cock in his ass, "I wanted you to come with me." He whimpered

Reno bit back a pained chuckle the sensation brought out of him, "Probably for the best though. Kinda forgot protection in the heat of the moment."

"Aw, come on! It's Valentine's day." Iharu giggled as he brought his head to rest against Reno's forehead, "Don't ya wanna live a little?" He teased as he wiggled his ass.

"Fuck." Reno choked as his grip on the mohawk tightened for a brief second, "You want it that bad? How about you work for it?" He challenged.

"Wish." Iharu groaned as his eyes rolled around sleepily, "Legs are shot."

"Doesn't seem to be stopping you at all." Reno grunted as he felt Iharu clench around his stiff dick.

"Hmm. May not be able to move..." Iharu enticed in a challenging tone, "But I think I can come up with a few ways to make you take the lead."

Iharu began to circle his hips in an intoxicatingly slow rhythm, just barely slipping Reno's cock in and out of his twitching entrance. He mimicked the open-mouthed kisses that Reno used on his chest and started to abuse the opportunity to mark more of his neck with love bites. Sensuously dragging his pointed teeth and tongue over Reno's sensitive pulse spot, he occasionally puffed hot air over it to highlight the change in temperature and send shivers down his spine. Reno gritted his teeth as his hands made their way back to Iharu's hips again, whether to stop the torturous ministrations or help them, he wasn't sure. His patience grew ever thinner as the methodical grinding also dragged Iharu's dick through the spent cum on his stomach, reminding him why he was such a mess for this man in the first place.

The longer Reno thought about it, the more excuses came to mind. Iharu did most of the work, so it only makes sense that Reno returns the favor. He was so close before, it surely wouldn't take much to catch back up. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to watch Iharu make that pretty face again, the one he makes when he's just starting to feel good and everything's hitting just right. Instead of his hands staying at Iharu's hips this time, they traveled just a little lower and groped at his taut thighs and relished how they felt in Reno's hands. He pulled the thighs apart, somehow creating just enough room for his cock to slide in a little further.

"Come on, that's all you got?" Iharu scoffed right in his ear, "You can do better than that." He seated his ass as far down as it could and squeezed sporadically, feeling it make Reno's body shudder harder.

"What, like you haven't had enough tonight?" Reno countered as he bit back some loud grunts. He felt himself trying to fight the challenge Iharu had silently put forward, not wanting to give in so easily.

"Look, the sex was sweet and all, and don't get me wrong-I enjoyed the hell out of it-" Iharu started to moan in earnest again as he ground back on the violently twitching dick, "but haven't you ever wanted to go apeshit on someone?"

"I don't... don't want to hurt you." Reno countered as a pathetic excuse to hold back.

Of course he wanted to. He had wanted to since the alley. He knew Iharu could take it, but he didn't want to take things too far on the off chance he could ruin it. He loved Iharu, but he couldn't love himself if he did something that could break what they had. He needed it now, more than ever. That close, competitive, bond that drove them both to extremes, but with the knowledge that they would go through those extremes together. If Reno ever broke, he needed to know that Iharu would be lying there next to him being just as broken as he was, but still holding on to the dedication and determination needed to put the both of them back together again.

"Jokes on you, dumbass." Iharu growled as he came up to face Reno, a ring studded hand coming up to grip his partner's hair.

"I'm into that shit." He dove for Reno's lips, brutishly shoving his tongue inside.

Reno quickly reciprocated, groaning hotly as they fought for dominance in the inviting heat he offered. Fingers flexed and dug deep into the meat of Iharu's thighs, making him positive that there were going to be bruises there later. Iharu lashed his tongue around the inside of Reno's mouth as a hand dragged itself from around the other's neck and scraped its fingernails down his chest. The bite of the pain paired with the smooth grinding sent Reno up the wall, making his heart launch into overdrive. Both of Iharu's hands came around and started to play with Reno's chest, skipping straight past teasing his nipples and going right to twist them just enough to make him cry out from shock.

With that familiar searing tension building up in his core, Reno couldn't take being idle any longer and finally snapped. He flipped the two of them over roughly, practically folding Iharu in half as he now rested against the wall of pillows behind them. Reno's hands moved to the back of his thighs as he pushed them as far as he could, almost having them reach the punk's ears. He set a brutal pace from the start, having grown far past the point of compassion and wanting to reclaim the high he had almost lost before. The sound of shin hitting skin would have echoed throughout the room had it not been overshadowed by the increase of loud, raspy moaning.

"Oh fucking finally!" Iharu cried as he felt the air getting punched out of his lungs by the new position.

Amused giggles were cut short as his brain short-circuited once he felt how much bigger Reno felt in this way. Iharu's crazed and rapturous moans were nothing in comparison to the almost feral growling Reno was making. His hands scrambled to reach around to Reno's back, digging his short fingernails into the defined muscles found there. Reno leaned forward to give his lover more space to claw at, pinning his shaking legs in between his equally shaky arms and shoulders. Reno fought for strength as he railed Iharu, breathing fiery groans down his lover's neck. The muscles in his stomach felt like they were going to cramp at the rate he was pushing himself.

"Fuck, that's it Sweet Heart. Take what you want, it's all yours." Iharu huffed out as he grew closer to another orgasm.

Hearing his blissful words, Reno pulled his head back just enough to kiss him again. As much as he wanted too, he couldn't really keep up with both actions as he felt his rhythm go awry and his kiss being nothing more tongue-filled panting. Drawing closer to another finish, Iharu raked his fingers down Reno's back again which was just enough stimulation to send both of them spiraling. Reno came with a loud and low cry, fingers nearly ripping the pillows he was gripping apart. Iharu matched him point for point with tears in his eyes, shaking uncontrollably from the overstimulation. Reno was in the same boat as his head dropped to Iharu's chest as he gulped for air.

They were spent, exhausted, and most importantly happy. Iharu felt like he wanted to laugh, but couldn't find the energy to breathe in the first place. Reno was trying his best not to fall over and completely smoosh Iharu, but it was turning into an uphill battle. The least he could do in that moment was carefully slide Iharu's legs off his shoulders and give the man some room to actually breathe. Moving his legs however brought a lot of attention to the fact that Reno really did cum inside, and while he was pleased with the idea of it, the sensation was a different matter.

"Happy now?" Reno teased as he winced, attempting and immediately regretting the decision to try and adjust their positions.

"Oh, come on. Don't say it like you didn't enjoy making this mess." Iharu smirked as every muscle fiber in his body went slack.

"Can't lie about that, can I?" Reno joked as kept his head down, committing the image of their white stained stomachs to memory.

He made himself power through the exhaustion long enough to slowly pull out and lie down next to Iharu. Both of them met each other's eyes and admired that domestically hazy look in them. Reno brought a hand up to play with some errant strands of pink hair that had glued themselves to Iharu's forehead. His lover closed his eyes at the gentle touch and sighed, content.

"Hey." Reno quietly called out, making Iharu crack an eye back open.

"I love you." He revealed.

Iharu giggled, "Figured you did, dummy. Didn't think this would happen if ya didn't."

"Make a man cum twice and this is the thanks I get." Reno muttered as he turned away indignantly.

"Hey, wait, come on!" Iharu continued to laugh as he reached a hand over to pull Reno back to face him.

Reno rolled back over and hit him with the most tender expression he thought possible. Seeing it made Iharu's previous levels of blushing looked pale in comparison. Suddenly getting nervous about speaking, Iharu leaned forward to bury his face into the crook of Reno's arm. After breathing in his natural scent made him calm down, Iharu finally poked his head out just enough to look Reno in the eye.

"I love you too."

After the two of them cleaned themselves up they laid there in the bed for a while, talking about everything under the sun. It went on long enough that Iharu eventually fell asleep. Reno had paid for the full night out of precaution anyway, now thankful that he did. He never really got the chance to watch Iharu sleep like this since they used bunk beds back at base. As rough around the edges as he likes to act, his face when he was sleeping looked deceptively angelic. Reno pulled the sheets up higher and pulled Iharu closer, tucking both of them safely in his arms.

Morning came around and as usual Reno was the first to wake up. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he woke up to the fact that neither of them had moved at all during the night. With his biological alarm clock telling him that the front desk would be calling soon, Reno mentally prepared himself to start moving. Planting a quick kiss to Iharu's forehead, Reno shifted down to the end of the bed and made his way over to the shower. He kept it short, wanting to get back out into the room before Iharu started to wake up. He gathered and vaguely organized their clothes, sliding on the pants from last night. He got the shirt on, but didn't button it yet as he reached back down for something else.

"Damn. Showered without me?" Iharu groaned sleepily as he stretched out on the bed.

"Morning to you to, Bed Head." Reno teased as he slid on Iharu's leather jacket.

Iharu rubbed his eyes as he watched his new boyfriend get dressed, "Now hold on. Just what do you think you're doing?" He commented as he noticed his jacket draped over the wrong person.

"Hm? Borrowing your jacket. It's cold out there you know." Reno deflected deceptively, knowing full well what he was doing.

"Nuh uh, not that jacket. Any other jacket I own but that one." Iharu playfully demanded as he pulled his bare form out of bed.

"But it's already so cozy. You don't want your boyfriend to freeze, do you?" Reno pouted in defiance as he batted his eye lashes.

"You... and I... both know that you have no problem with the cold." Iharu stalked him slowly, making Reno back up until he hit the wall behind them.

Iharu got incredibly close, so close their breaths mixed in the slim space between their lips. He forcefully planted his hands on either side of Reno, effectively caging him in. Not that Reno seemed to mind as his eyes dropped to the bright pink lips before him.

"Tell you what." Iharu began as he slotted a leg in the middle of Reno's stance, "You want it that bad? I'll fight ya for it."

Needless to say that Reno didn't get to keep the jacket in the end. Iharu was just too attached to the precious garment. However, he had no problem with the opposing trade off that was offered instead. Reno like to think that the pink sweater Iharu walked in with framed the claw marks that punk gave him on his back and shoulders quite nicely.

And yes, they did steal the lava lamp.

[bunnis-monsters]

Becoming the Queen

Bee hybrids x Fem!Reader

warning: oviposition, orgy, breeding, oral

WK: 5k

A/N: I hope this is alright for a Valentine’s Day special… this is a commission, hehe. The lovely members on kofi got to see this 2 weeks early ><

It was early, the grass you trudged through to get to work still wet with the morning dew. You never truly enjoyed waking up before the sun rose, but you loved what you did and could never give it up.

You were a florist, owning the only flower shop in the county. People from all over would come to buy a bouquet, and you were up to your head in flower arrangements by the late afternoon.

Some customers were kind, tipping you well and making sure their flowers were well taken care of. Others got on your very last nerve, daring to say your flowers seemed old or wilted.

It took everything in you not to leap over the counters. You could take people insulting you, but no one could insinuate that your flowers weren’t perfect. You grew them yourself, preening and watering them to perfection.

As you neared your flower shop, you noticed there were more customers than usual waiting outside. Usually most of your sales happened after 10 am, not so early in the day.

But as you took out your keys and looked up, you realized that not all of them were there for flowers.

One of your windows was broken, shards of glass covering the floor and a bit of blood staining the windowsill. Something has smashed through the glass!

And from taking one look into your shop, you realized that they hadn’t just broken your window.

Bouquets lay strewn across the cool tiles, petals blowing in the wind as you opened the door. Someone or something had been in your shop and had ruined your carefully arranged bouquets.

A shard of one of your potted plants crunched under your foot as you took in all the damage that had been done. It would set you back several weeks.

“Damn it…”

Although it frustrated you to no end, you brushed off your skirt and set off to the back, grabbing a broom and getting to work.

After getting the mess up and opening up the shop, you tried your best not to think about what destroyed your inventory. You focused on your work instead. It was always easy to lose yourself in a good book while waiting on your next customer, but today your mind kept wandering back to potential culprits.

There were a group of teenagers that vandalized a restaurant a block away last week. At the local boba place, someone had been stealing the boba and straws. It wasn’t unthinkable that the other incidents may be related to what happened earlier that morning.

You closed the shop for the night, sighing as you zipped up your hoodie. It was way too cold, you’d have to bring your coat tomorrow if you planned on being out this late.

It couldn’t be helped, you had to stay after closing to contact clients and refer them to other florists that could get their arrangements done now that the ones you prepared were ruined.

Thankfully, most of your clients were kind enough to overlook it, but you received a few earfuls that you couldn’t complain about. At least they weren’t leaving a bad review…

The night air made you shiver. You rubbed your arms and continued on home, dreading tomorrow. There was so much work you’d have to redo, and money you would lose out on.

‘I hope there’s going to be enough money left over for me to pay my bills this month…’

You were stirred from your thoughts when you felt a chill go down your spine. For a moment you just assumed it was the frigid temperatures making you feel this way, but something was off.

The world around you was quiet. The way home had sparse light, and before that night you had never been afraid of the dark. It comforted you, in fact.

But as you froze in the middle of the path, your heart thumping against your chest, you realized that there was a sound that drowned out everything else. You hadn’t noticed it at first, and now it was almost unbearably loud.

A buzzing filled the air, and you quickly had to cover your ears as it only increased in volume.

You picked up something else, the smell of honey. Slowly, you opened your eyes.

It took a moment to fully comprehend what was before you. There were several humanoid silhouettes surrounding you, and their outlines were… fluffy?

“Is this really her?”

“Yes, I told you she was soft!”

“And she makes the flowers bloom?”

“Yes, yes!”

A hand reached out to tilt your chin up, and you were face to face with some kind of insect-like creature. It was taller than any man you had ever seen, with big black eyes and yellow… fluff? Fuzz? You weren’t sure, but these things didn’t have normal human skin.

“Ah, she’s just as pretty as you said.”

The other creatures let out a satisfied buzz, encircling you. They all seemed rather curious and excited, lifting up parts of your clothing and examining you.

“H-hey!”

When you yelped, they all backed off, seeming confused and a little hurt. “Wh… what the hell are you… things? Why are you following me!?”

The leader stepped forward again, a bit sheepish but understanding. “Sorry… we saw how upset you were about the mess we made and-“

“You all caused that mess!?”

They all let out whines and upset buzzes as you groaned. The entire day had been a nightmare you’d wake up from soon. It had to be.

“I’m going to bed…”

You moved past the group, but they followed after you, seeming concerned and nervous.

“But you’re coming with u-“

His mouth was covered by another’s hand. “We’re sorry for the mess. Please, we’ll help repay you tomorrow. So… don’t be too angry.”

It was hard to stay too angry with them, they sounded genuinely remorseful and a touch sad. “… alright, but you’ll need to be here early tomorrow.”

You went to bed, figuring that this would all be over once you had a good night of sleep. There were no strange bee-like creatures in your front yard, no difficult messes to deal with, just a bad dream.

Unfortunately you were very wrong.

Walking outside with your hot coffee and sporting your pajamas, you were met with several expectant faces.

“You’re awake!”

You stood there for a moment, blinking sluggishly before staring down at your coffee. After blinking a few times, you breathed in and out.

“So… you are real then.”

The creatures were bee hybrids, a species you heard about before. Hybrids weren’t exactly uncommon, but it was rare for insect based hybrids to leave their hives or nests to interact with humans.

They did keep their promise and help you prepare bouquets the entire day, pollinating your flowers and following after you baby ducklings with their mother.

Unbeknownst to you, the bees had been watching you for a while.

It started when they lost their queen.

For months she had been bedridden, and no eggs were laid. Of course, the bee hybrids were much more concerned about their beloved queen than eggs, but she was beside herself with worry.

“Who will take care of you when I’m gone?”

The queen knew she was well past her egg bearing years and was going to die soon. After all, what purpose did a queen have when she couldn’t expand the hive?

“Don’t say things like that, your majesty. You won’t leave us…”

They were stricken with grief after her passing, nearly a year went by before they even considered a new queen.

Their last one had been a bee hybrid born in that very hive. Wanting to keep the tradition of raising a new queen wasn’t possible since she had only ever birthed sons.

Not wanting to take the chance of foreign bee hives trying to spy on them by giving them a female, the bee hybrids looked elsewhere for their next queen.

You happened to be a perfect match.

Not only were you beautiful and plump as a good queen should be, your kind nature and gentle heart told them you would be an amazing mother to the little ones.

The only problem was getting you to the hive.

“She’s so pretty, I love her…” said one of the bee hybrids, his wings fluttering as he watched you remove the thorns from some roses.

“She is. I want to stuff her full of my e-“

The others turned red and buzzed at the horny bee. “H-hey, don’t talk about the queen like that!”

“But that’s what everyone’s thinking…”

The worker bees pouted, flying around you and offering pollen or honey. The guards watched from afar.

Most of the bee hybrids were not what you would call… intelligent. But there were some that ran the show and made all of the important decisions.

“We’ll take her soon. Our hive needs a queen, and if we don’t get one soon, everyone will go mad. We need a queen to mate and protect, it’s what keeps us calm,” said one of the guards, his stinger twitching and ready to attack.

“But she loves working with the flowers. What if we put a strain on her mind? If she is unwell, our hive will suffer with her.”

That was true, the bee hybrids’ productivity and mental well being depended on you. If you were depressed, they would be as well. Not only that, they’d be constantly trying to cheer you up and become worse if you remained in that state for too long.

“I think I know what we can do to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

~

You had never felt so tired in your entire life. The day hadn’t been so tough, but as you closed your eyes to go to bed, suddenly your body felt so heavy that you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to get up.

Sleep took you, and when you woke up everything seemed… different.

Your usually stiff bed felt incredibly soft, your body melting into the plush material.

“Ugh…”

The moment you let out a groan, you heard the sound of buzzing and frantic voices.

“The queen is awake!”

“Oh, my queen are you alright?”

“Hurry, prepare her breakfast and bring the towels for the bath!”

You rubbed your eyes as you listened to the bustling around you. When your vision was no longer blurry, you could hardly believe what you were seeing.

No longer were you in your small bedroom in your modest home by the forest. The walls of your room were shaped like a honeycomb… no, they were a honeycomb. You could even see the amber colored liquid pooling at the bottom as some bee hybrids scooped it up.

You were laid out on a king sized bed, with thick blankets and plush pillows surrounding you like some kind of nest.

Surrounding you was a swarm of bee hybrids. Some were teeming with excitement and giddy energy, while others peeked around their fellow hybrids with curiosity. The ones closest to you, though, seemed a mix of concerned and nervous, fretting over you.

“Oh, what if she isn’t feeling well? Should we give her some honey?”

“Breakfast first, she can have honey on toast or biscuits.”

“Humans really eat honey in that way?”

While you struggled to get your bearings, they continued to flit about the room doing various things to acclimate you.

“Where… am I?”

Every single one of the bee hybrids paused, their attention solely on you. Several whispered among themselves as their gaze stayed on your plump figure.

“You’re home, my queen.”

A taller, less fluffy bee hybrid walked forward, his expression neutral. He kneeled before you, taking your hand and raising it to his mouth for a kiss.

“Q-queen? What do you-“

All at once they all rushed forward to dote on you. Your body was covered in kisses, and you could feel their soft fluff almost everywhere.

“My queen, we’re so happy!”

“We promise you’ll have a good life here, no more stress or worry!”

Gentle nips and bites were pressed into your sensitive neck and thighs, hands moving to caress and grope all of your body.

You were still groggy, and immediately began to warm up when one hand found its way to your inner thigh. When you let out a startled moan, the bees on the bed began to buzz and focus on that spot.

“Our queen is sensitive!”

A few of them pried your thighs open, inspecting your bare cunt and giving it a few experimental touches and licks. Had they undressed you beforehand?

Their tongues were long and thin, delicate against your slowly hardening clit. You could tell they were all excited by the way their buzzing increased and their bodies shook.

Your scent filled the air, attracting more bee hybrids from the hall. The ones on the bed touched and fondled your sleepy body as the others watched from the sidelines.

Your face heated up when you realized they were stroking their cocks, their eyes glued on your body and the way it was being played with by their peers.

There was no chance to react or cry out in protest, you were being too overwhelmed by pleasure. One of their tongues entered your cunt, making your eyes widen and your fists clench the silk bed sheet underneath you.

“She likes that, don’t stop.”

You felt one of them latch onto your breasts, their long tongue swirling around your nipple. Their antennae tickled your face, and you felt completely overstimulated.

Every touch made you twist and buck your hips, it was hard to control yourself. Never before had you felt such intense pleasure, and it was making you see stars.

‘This has to be some sort of wet dream…’ you thought to yourself, squishing your plush thighs together. ‘Might as well enjoy it…’

“Is she ready yet?” one of them cooed, nuzzling their fluffy face against your neck.

“Not for eggs, but…”

The others backed off, and a smaller, more feminine looking bee hybrid climbed on top of you. He was still at least half a foot taller than you, but tiny compared to the others.

“H-hello, my queen…” he chirped shyly, giving your cheek an affectionate nuzzle. “I’ll be the one to mate with you first…”

He was even fluffier than the others, and his cock was already twitching against your thigh. It was more long than thick, and had a pinkish, orange color.

You reached out to touch it, your fingers wrapping around his length. This made the smaller bee hybrid gasp, his hips bucking wildly in surprise.

The other hybrids stepped closer, buzzing with both excitement and jealousy. Already, the single male was receiving all of your attention… they all wanted a turn!

Fortunately for you, they had been ordered to give you space. This would be your first time with a bee hybrid, and if they weren’t careful, they could end up hurting their precious queen.

Your health and well being meant more to them than anything else.

“M-my queen, ahh!”

His eyes glistened with flustered tears as you stroked his cock, honey colored precum seeping out of the tip. You couldn’t remember the last time you had pleasured yourself.

If this was a dream, you were going to have fun.

You laid on your back, pulling the hybrid in by his hips. It was clear out of the two of you, he was the one lacking experience.

“Oh, you’re so pretty my queen-“ he blubbered out, his hips rutting against yours as his cock settled between your pussy lips. You could feel his tip kissing your clit, and it was enough to have you both let out a shuddering moan.

“Mmph…”

You kissed him, letting his long tongue slip down your throat as you moved your hand to guide his cock towards your entrance.

The moan he let out in your mouth as he sunk into your fat cunt was sinful, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed several of the bees were fucking their fists to the sight of you being fucked by one of their own.

“T-too good! I’m gonna-“

His cum spurted into your womb, he was finishing before he could even properly thrust in and out of you. You were going to whine about it, but something caused you to pause your complaints.

While his cock twitched inside of you, it swelled up, and before you could question what was happening, eggs began to pool into your womb along with his cum.

The feeling of them being fucked into you, stretching your pussy out as the eggs were laid inside of you made your head spin.

Your pussy clenched around the eggs, and before you knew it you were cumming harder than you ever had before. You arched your back, tears running down your cheeks as you rode out your high.

By the end of it, you were a mess. Cum from both you and the bee hybrid pooled around your thighs, soaking into the expensive feeling sheets.

“This… isn’t a dream, is it?”

The hybrid gathered around you, some cooing over your spent, naked body while others were desperate to have their hands on you.

“It’s no dream, my queen!”

“We all love you!”

“Let’s get you to the bath, you deserve to relax!”

You let out a tired sigh as you were carried away. The tub was nearly as big as your bedroom back home, and several of the bees joined you in the warm, pleasantly scented water.

You could smell fresh flowers and honey, and you let out a sigh of relief when several pairs of hands went to work massaging your sore muscles. A pair of two slipped between your thighs, toying with your sensitive clit and feeling around to make sure all of the eggs were safe and sound inside of you.

“Is the water warm enough, my queen?”

Hands cupped your breasts, giving them a playful squeeze before rubbing honey scented soap into them. “Mmph, yes, it’s good…”

You glanced down at your belly, noticing it poked out slightly. The memory of how the eggs felt being pushed inside of you made your cheeks heat up.

This was all a lot to process. If this wasn’t a dream like you had originally assumed, then that meant you had been taken away to a bee hybrid hive and made into a queen.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions…” another bee said, giving you a sympathetic look. “But you don’t have to worry, we’ll cater to your every want and need. You’ll never want for anything.”

Deciding a fight wasn’t worth it, you sunk back into the warm water, letting yourself be pampered and taken care of for now.

“… I want to talk to whoever is in charge here.”

The two hybrid bathing you shared a look before speaking.

“That would be you, my queen.”

You placed a hand on your temple, rubbing it before replying. “I mean, who decided that I would be queen? Surely someone here has been making decisions regarding the hive while there was no queen.”

A silence fell over the room, the only sound being the water droplets falling from your skin.

“Well… I guess that would be the council. Are you requesting a meeting with the council, my queen?”

You nodded, and the two stood before getting you dried off and dressed. They were obedient, doing exactly as you asked. “Are you sure, my queen? You still need your breakfast and-“

“I’m sure, take me to the council.”

The walls of the hive were made of honeycomb, unsurprisingly. Each section contained a bee hybrid that was hard at work, making honey while chattering amongst themselves.

“Haven’t you heard, Bumble? There’s a new queen, and she’s a pretty one too!”

“Yeah, she’s already had her first batch of eggs too!”

“That’s not fair, I wanted to give the queen my eggs first!”

You avoided making eye contact with them, your cheeks hot with embarrassment again. It flustered you to know their words were causing your panties to grow wet.

Hiding was useless, though. The scent of your arousal caused the bee hybrids near you to react. Their antennas twitched while their cocks hardened the second your scent reached them. It was an immediate reaction that had you hiding within the safety of your guards as you were escorted to the council.

“My queen, what brings you here?”

You stood before the council, looking up at their pleasantly surprised faces. There were around 30 of them, all sitting in a half circle. Papers were piled next to each bee, and even while their full attention was on you, their hands still moved to work on the papers in front of them.

‘Busy and a bee’ was a phrase you heard a lot growing up, and as you watched them flit about the room, writing and shouting orders all while keeping their eyes on you, it finally dawned on you how accurate it was.

“I came here with questions. My first one is why am I here?”

They paused their work for a moment, and some shooed away any bees that weren’t in the council before shutting the doors.

“… as you may know, bee hybrid hives consist mainly of males,” one of the council members began, standing and walking towards you.

“Female bees are not born often, meaning that we cannot run a hive without… taking a female on as our queen,” another finished, setting aside a stack of finished papers.

“It’s also a great way to diversify the hive and prevent… inbreeding.”

You raised an eyebrow as the bee hybrid stood in front of you. He was nearly 10 feet tall, and crouched down in front of you, taking your hand before kissing the back of it.

When he looked into your eyes, they sparkled with devotion. “Our undercover agents have been watching you for months. You’re kind, and you love nature. You must know that without a queen, our hive will die out within a year.”

It was hard to look away from his dark orbs. The way he looked at you made your heart race.

“I know that we took you away without asking, but we cannot let you go. Please know that you will be treated with the utmost care, and you will be pampered beyond belief.”

For a moment you stayed quiet, your expression softening. “… what would be expected of me as queen?”

The entire council perked up, some leaping out of their seats in excitement without warning. They quickly returned to their work when the leader gave them a warning glance.

“You only have a handful of responsibilities each day. You greet the public, bond with the children, attend diplomatic meetings, and… breed with your loyal subjects to create your children.”

Your face heated up at the memory of your morning session with the pretty bee hybrid.

“And… I do these every day?”

They nodded. “Diplomatic meetings are less frequent, but everything else is daily.”

Daily… you’d get fucked like that daily?

‘Am I really going to abandon the life I’ve been living for the past few years just to get a good fuck and some pampering?’

Yes. Yes you were.

“Alright… I’m in. Not like I have much of a choice in the matter anyways…”

The bees surrounding you let out happy whines and buzzes. You were surrounded once again, being nuzzled and pulled into fluffy chests. They were all scenting you, obviously happy you were going to be their queen of your own free will.

“Then let’s get you some breakfast, my queen. You have much to do!”

Breakfast was filled with lots of chattering among your current attendants. They were fluffy, jealous things that lounged about in your quarters, burying their faces into your soft body and gossiping amongst themselves.

Once you were done eating, you were escorted to your first duty as queen.

“I hope your royal attendants behaved well. They are just excited to have a queen to dote on again. If you have any sexual needs or desires, they will perform them for you. And do not worry, they cannot produce eggs, so they exist purely for your pleasure and entertainment.”

It seemed strange, but your attendants seemed quite happy and spoiled, so you continued to follow the councilman in charge or guiding you.

“This is the nursery.”

The walls had the same honeycombs as the rest of the hive, but in each one was a crib and a sleeping babe. On the carpeted floor, toddlers waddled and crawled about, playing with toys as they got in their daily exercise.

Almost like a switch had been flipped, their tiny heads turned towards you. The closest baby bee tears up, their tiny, chubby legs struggling to carry them forward as they toddled their way over.

“M-mama!”

Every child within hearing range made their way over, clinging to your legs and fussing as they attempted to crawl up. They held onto your clothing, suckling on any bare skin they could find in an attempt to nurse.

“H-hey, I’m not your-“

The bee hybrid next to you sighed softly. “They won’t listen. You have the scent of their mother now, they want you to hold and feed them.”

Their little eyes were getting red and puffy from crying, they couldn’t understand why their mama wasn’t holding or feeding them.

It was really tugging at your heartstrings. They were just so little, you couldn’t imagine having a baby and how their innocent minds would try to process your death.

“Hey… it’s okay, mama is right here.”

You sat down, letting them climb into your lap and arms. A team of bee hybrids joined you, helping to bottle feed and soothe them.

“Once the eggs in you begin to grow, you’ll start lactating and will be able to feed hordes of the baby bees,” the councilman said, watching how the young ones bonded with you instantly.

“For now, though… you just need to give them your attention and care. They need it.”

As the little ones were laid down for a nap, you were able to sneak out and leave for your next appointment.

“The entire hive knows there is a new queen, gossip gets out fast,” the councilman said as you ate some lunch. Your attendants were playing with your clit, all cooing over how sensitive and hard it was getting under their touch.

There seemed to be no shame with them. You were sitting in the middle of the cafeteria and no one batted an eye as your fat pussy lips were pulled apart so they could lick and fuck your hole with their long tongues.

“However, you’ll still need to make an official appearance in front of the hive… that, and we’ll need to start the breeding ceremony.”

You were having trouble focusing, your fingers tugging on the hair of the bee between your legs. “C-ceremony?”

“Yes, my queen. It is customary for every bee hybrid to take a few days off of work to come and greet the queen. They all get their turns to mate and fill you with some of their own eggs.”

The ceremony began later in the evening. You were brought out before your loyal subjects, dressed in lacy lingerie and placed on a bed.

You felt less like a beloved ruler, and more like a breeding cow being brought out to be sold to the highest bidder.

Every bee bowed before you, dropping to one knee as they waited for you to speak.

“My loyal subjects…”

Just the sound of your voice sent a shiver of excitement through the crowd. You could see them shaking, few already hard and struggling to keep their hands off their pink, throbbing cocks.

“You have all been gathered here for the… breeding ceremony. As thanks for working as hard as you do, you all get a turn to…”

Again, your cheeks began to warm up. You couldn’t believe you were saying this. “… you all get a turn to breed me, your queen. I will take your eggs and incubate them, ensuring your bloodline will continue.”

With that, you laid down. The councilmen ushered forward a group of bee hybrids, and the breeding commenced.

They didn’t want to hurt you, that much was for sure.

Most of the bee hybrids were several feet taller than you, though some stopped at only a few inches above your head. No matter how much they towered over you, their touch was still gentle and hesitant.

None of them had ever touched a human before, much less mated with one. Your body was so sensitive, responding to every nudge and movement of their hands.

One of them sunk their fingers into your cunt, another offering you their cock. You took it into your mouth, causing them to buck their hips.

Your pussy gushed around their fingers.

“S-she’s getting all wet… my queen, is this good for you?”

“Yes, that means she’s excited! You can mate with her now!”

Each cock that entered you was different. Some were short and thick, others thin and long, but a few were both so girthy and long that you felt like you were being split in two.

At one point you were being fucked while jerking off two other bee hybrid and blowing another, trying to please as many as your subjects at once as possible.

The first creampie was almost soothing, the feeling of eggs filling your needy cunt was… mind blowing. You felt so fulfilled, you wanted to be fucked like this forever.

After the tenth bee hybrid though… you were so stuffed full you could barely think. Your tummy was stretched out, looking just about ready to burst.

“Oh, so pretty…” a bee chittered, rubbing your distended belly. “Our queen is doing so well…”

After another five bees had their way with you, the councilmen stepped forward. “That's enough for now, she needs her rest.”

Your attendants were quick to descend upon the bed, buzzing threateningly at every other hybrid that dared to even look at their exhausted queen.

“You truly did do well…” one of them cooed, kissing your temple after they bathed you then tucked you into bed.

“Sleep, you’ll need your rest. Tomorrow will bring even more eggs.”

As you laid down, curled up with a bee hybrid cuddle pile, you couldn’t help but look forward to tomorrow.

You were already becoming an amazing queen… and it had only been a day.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog

[pennyellee]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡?

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡? | 𝐌𝐘𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐔 (𝐌) pairings: producer!min yoongi x popgirlie f!reader genre: romance, smut, slight porn with plot, friends to lovers au word count: 6K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)

prompt: "There is just no way you two did not fuck each other's brains out." summary: "You Big Enough?" - when an old flame resurfaced, rumours spiralled, and suddenly, every lingering glance and every touch between you seemed to carry weight. It had always been just music, just friendship—hadn’t it? No. You always had the vibe of  'will they, won't they.' This has become bigger than the music. Tension crackled, boundaries blurred, and there was this thing that Yoongi made sure you knew well besides that he was big enough. "They just talk. I fucking deliver."

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, explicit language, themes of subtle (and not-so-subtle) possessiveness, teasing, sexual activity, rough sex, fingering (f receiving), miscommunication driving emotional conflict, dirty talk, raw fucking (stay safe!) choking and spanking as part of intimate scenes, creampie, fleeting nipple play, very subtle dominance/submission dynamics, implied size kink ... (as per usual, I'll add some if needed)

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, sexual activity, sex without protection, choking and spanking as part of intimate scenes.

a/n: yall, I had this idea like a month ago and I wrote the initial part but lowkey forgot that it's in my drafts so I finished it yesterday (might come later to edit, pls excuse me im working overtime these days) and amazing and spectacular @chaoticpuff17 managed to read it so you can have it as a lil Valentine's day treat. So here is something simple, smutty, and cute for ya. Happy Valentine to all of you who celebrate, love you my little fairies! ♥

masterlist

Your hands hovered above the keys and your brain could not figure out what to press to make it sound as magical as you want. Your mind searched for the perfect melody for the bridge of her latest song—

"Try F-sharp minor," Yoongi suggested, his voice low and even. The studio is a second home for you. Always have been and dear Min Yoongi was as much a refuge as the soundproof walls and softly humming equipment.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"Perfect—" There was a warmth in his gaze, one that lingered a second too long.

"How do you always know, Yoongi-ah?"

"It's my job," he said simply, but the corners of his mouth quirked up. Your heart fluttered with a familiar yet unwelcome sensation. But you quickly shook it off, focusing on the music in front of her.

"I'm lucky to have you, then," you murmured.

Yoongi didn't respond immediately, and when he did, his voice was quieter than before.

"I'd say I'm the lucky one."

Before you could process what he meant, your phone buzzed, breaking the spell. You picked it up, seeing a message from your lifelong bestie, Jimin-ah.

Emergency. Coming over.

You frown but you are happy to not indulge in something you don't have the answers to. "Jimin-ah is on his way. Guess I'll have to call it a night."

Yoongi's expression was unreadable, but he nodded, knowing that it must be something important if you’re packing your stuff so quickly. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"You need to fucking hear this," he says, her voice brimming with urgency when he bursts into the apartment like a whirlwind, his dark glossy hair bouncing as he flops onto the couch.

"You remember Seo Kang-joon?"

You hand him a glass of red wine and sit across from him.

"What now? Did he suddenly reappear after he ghosted me?"

Jimin winces.

"Actually, yeah. And I finally found out why he did so."

Your stomach drops. You liked that man when you went out, but the message you left a good amount of time ago went unanswered for an even longer period of time.

"Why?"

He hesitates, his eyes darting around the room. Finally, he leans forward, lowering his voice. "Everyone thinks you and Yoongi are… you know."

You blink.

"What?" you say, playing dumb.

"You knooowww…—

"—that."

He said through gritted teeth, trying to make you understand, but your brain was not cooperating.

"No, I dooooon't know that" You mimicked him, and he only stared dead serious at your stupidity.

"They think you've been doing it," he says bluntly. "Apparently, it's some open secret in the industry. Like, 'Oh, Y/N and Yoongi? Of course, they're a thing.'"

Your jaw drops. No way. No fucking way.

"That's insane. We're not… we're not like that."

"You sure about that buttercup?" Jimin raises an eyebrow and you merely nod.

"Cuz', he's not exactly denying it. And honestly, can you blame people for assuming? You've written two albums together, spent countless hours locked in the studio, and the way he looks at you…" he trails off, shaking his head.

"There is just no way you two did not fuck each other's brains out."

Your cheeks burn.

"That's ridiculous. Yoongi and I are friends. Just friends."

"Hmm, I don't know hun,—"

He was right. You weren't buying it. Not entirely.

But you weren't ready to admit that out loud—not yet, anyway. Your mind races. You replay every moment you've spent together, every lingering glance and fleeting touch.

Yoongi and you?

It was absurd, wasn't it?

Right?

Jimin watched you carefully, his perfectly shaped brows raised in amusement. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

"No," you scoffed, but your voice lacked conviction.

Jimin smirked, leaning back against the couch. "Look, babe, I wouldn't bring this up if I didn't think it was something you should actually think about. People don't just make this kind of shit up for no reason."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "I just—why wouldn't he deny it?"

"That's what you need to figure out." Jimin gave you a pointed look. "You trust him, don't you?"

You hesitated. That was the problem, wasn't it? You trusted Yoongi more than anyone. He had been your anchor in the storm, your safe space when everything else felt uncertain.

But this—this was different.

The way he looked at you.

The way he always knew exactly what you needed.

You replayed every moment with Yoongi in your mind, combing through the memories with a fine-toothed scepticism, looking for anything—anything—that could have fed these rumours. The way he watched you while you worked in the dance studio, the quiet way he always made sure you had water before long sessions, the casual intimacy in the way he touched you—light, fleeting, like a habit neither of you had ever questioned.

Had you been blind this whole time?

Jimin's voice snapped you back to reality.

"Look, I think you need to talk to him. Like, actually talk to him."

You swallowed hard.

Talking to Min Yoongi had never been difficult before. But this? This felt dangerous.

The next evening, you stepped into the dimly lit studio, and the question sat on the tip of your tongue like a loaded gun.

Yoongi was already there, as always. The warm amber glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across his sharp features, catching on the soft strands of dark hair that fell over his eyes. His fingers rested idly on the soundboard, a picture of quiet focus—until he looked up at you.

His gaze, steady and unreadable, held you captive.

"You're late," he murmured, but there was no accusation in his tone—just that familiar, quiet warmth.

You swallowed. "Got caught up with Jimin last night, forgot to set a reminder."

At that, something flickered across his face—too quick to name, gone before you could hold onto it. "Ah."

Silence stretched between you, thick with something you weren't ready to name. But you hadn't come here to tiptoe around things anymore.

So you stepped forward, pressing a hand against the cool surface of the mixing console, grounding yourself, only now taking his appearance in.

"I played with the structure a little last night after you went home and—" he broke the silence first, but you knew he sensed the sudden awkwardness in your posture, your whole being.

"Is something the matter, sleepyhead?"

"Nope, nothing at all."

You quickly retorted, trying to look anywhere else but his gorgeous face.

Yoongi's eyes, however, never wavered. They held a depth that made it impossible for you to escape his gaze. You had always known how intense he could be, but now, in the stillness of the studio, it felt almost intimate, the air thick with unspoken words that seemed to pulse around you like a melody begging to be heard.

He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting casually on the desk, but his posture was all focus—intent, almost as if he was waiting for you to unravel yourself.

"Are you sure about that?" His voice was lower now, a gentle challenge. He was pulling at the thread, testing the tension between you.

Your stomach twisted. This was the moment, wasn't it?

"I'm fine, Yoongi, just had a lot of wine last night," you said again, but your voice betrayed you. It cracked, ever so slightly, and you couldn't mask the uncertainty in it.

The silence between you thickened, and it felt like the space in the room had shrunk, until it was just you, him, and the suffocating pressure of the question you both knew was lingering.

He didn't look away, not even when you avoided his gaze, staring down at the soundboard like it could offer you some kind of escape. He moved to the electronic piano while lifting a brow at you.

"So as I said, I played with the structure—"

You watched him, leaning at the piano, his fingers poised just above the keys, waiting for him to break the silence again, to give you something more. But you didn't want more from him—not in the way you wanted it. Not yet.

Instead, you played a dangerous game, one of subtle manipulation, testing him, probing for the truth behind his unreadable expressions.

"You remember Seo Kang-joon, right?" You interrupt him, raising your voice just a little.

The name hung in the air between you, deliberately chosen, carefully placed like a baited hook.

Yoongi's fingers stilled for the briefest of moments. But it was enough. Just enough for you to notice. His posture shifted ever so slightly, his shoulders stiffening imperceptibly.

You bit back a smile, inwardly satisfied at his subtle reaction.

"I bumped into him yesterday on my way home. He... he actually asked me out on a date again. Said he lost his phone and had to get a new phone number, didn't remember mine."

A lie.

The words left your mouth so easily, like a lie you had rehearsed in front of the mirror, and yet your heart pounded with anticipation. You weren't expecting much. Just a flicker of jealousy, a crack in the calm façade he always wore. So your interrogation of his, perhaps, hidden feelings isn't unprovoked.

Yoongi didn't immediately respond. His fingers finally touched the keys, the faintest chord ringing through the room, but his eyes remained fixed on the piano.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the soft melody playing between you, the rhythm of his fingers meeting the ivories almost too steady.

And then, finally, he spoke. His voice was low, flat. "Is that so?"

Your breath caught. That was it?

You frowned, staring at him from across the room, searching for a reaction. Anything. But his expression was as controlled as ever. His calm demeanour was unshakable.

No way.

You leaned forward, the pressure of the lie beginning to claw at your insides. "Yeah, he asked me. He was actually pretty... persistent about it. He was sorry I thought he ghosted me." You let the words hang, trailing off deliberately, watching his reaction closely.

But Yoongi only nodded, his eyes focused on the keys.

"I see."

A small flame of frustration ignited in your chest. Was he really this indifferent? Was he truly going to let this lie slide without a hint of a reaction?

You stood up abruptly, unable to hold the pretense any longer. You could feel your temper rising, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

"You fucking see?!" Yoongi's fingers paused mid-chord as the tension in your voice snapped through the room. You busted out your feelings. Well, this was doomed from the start.

You stepped forward, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and something else—something raw that you hadn't been prepared to face. "You don't even care, do you? You don't care that everyone is saying we're fucking, that they think we're—" You cut yourself off, almost choking on the words. You couldn't bear to say them aloud, but you needed to know, needed to push him.

His gaze met yours, and in that instant, you knew he hadn't been indifferent. He'd been waiting. Waiting for you to unravel yourself, for you to show your cards. His eyes, dark and unreadable, pinned you in place.

"Is that what you wanted to hear?" His voice was cold now, controlled, with an edge that made your skin prickle. The air in the room thickened, turning heavy with the weight of his words.

"Well, perchance?!—" You gesture rapidly.

"You run around not denying it Yoongi,—?!"

The calm, controlled exterior he wore was unravelling, and you weren't sure if you liked the version of him that was emerging—or if it terrified you.

He stood up, slowly, deliberately. The sudden motion caused a cold shiver to run down your spine. He didn't step towards you, but the space between you both seemed to shrink in the way he carried himself—every step deliberate, every movement measured.

"Why do you care so much?" His voice was low, almost detached, but there was a certain sharpness to it now. It was the tone he used when he was dangerously close to losing control, but for now, he still kept it in check. "What's so important about what they think?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words tangled in your throat. You had been so sure of your reasoning—so certain of the way you wanted him to react—but now that he was giving you exactly what you wanted, you realized just how hollow that satisfaction felt.

"I dunno Yoongi—maybe because men ghosted me—maybe because you just might be the reason I had a dry season— or maybe you're that kind of motherfucker—"

Yoongi let out a sharp breath, a dry laugh escaping him as he shook his head. You elevated this to a different level now. "A motherfucker?" He repeated his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "That's what we're doing now?"

You were too far gone to stop. The frustration, the pent-up emotions, the sheer nerve of him sitting there, all unbothered while you spiralled—it cracked something open inside you.

"Yes, Yoongi! A motherfucker! What else do you call a guy who lets rumours fly like this and doesn't even care?" Your hands gestured wildly as your voice grew more frantic.

"You don't deny it, you don't address it, you just exist in this limbo, letting people think we're screwing while I sit here looking like a desperate idiot who cannot get a hold of her man—"

His jaw clenched, his patience visibly wearing thin. "So what if I don't deny it?" He stepped closer, voice a fraction lower now, dangerously quiet. "What if I don't care what they think? What if I like the way it sounds?"

Your breath hitched.

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. Your entire argument, the whole reason you'd brought this up, suddenly felt shaky, flimsy, like a house of cards collapsing under the weight of his words.

Yoongi watched you, his eyes dark and unreadable, waiting for you to process what he had just admitted.

Finally, your voice came out in a whisper, hoarse and unsure.

"The fuck, Yoongi?"

"I don't deny it," he said again, slower this time. His head tilted slightly, studying you. "Because it's not entirely wrong."

A rush of heat flooded through you—anger, shock, confusion, something else, something deeper and more dangerous. "Not… entirely… wrong?" You echoed, blinking at him. "Are you—are you actually fucking insane?"

Yoongi exhaled sharply, like he was just as frustrated as you were, like you were the one being difficult. "Y/N—"

"No," you cut him off, pointing a finger at him. "No, you don't get to just drop that and act like it's nothing."

"I'm not acting like it's nothing," he countered, his voice still calm, still infuriatingly composed. "You wanted to know why I never denied it? That's why."

"You can't be fucking serious right now, you fuck—" his body in your proximity startled you, but you let him pin you to the wall next to the mixing desk.

His hands caged you in, palms pressing against the wall on either side of your head. You felt the sharp inhale of his breath, the slow exhale, the tension buzzing between you like a live wire.

"You don't get it, do you?" His voice was quiet but razor-edged, his eyes dark and unwavering. "You've been running in circles trying to make me jealous, trying to get a reaction—" his gaze flicked down to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again, "pushing me like you want me to snap."

You listened. For once.

"You sat in that fucking booth with only your panties under that big shirt—"

"My fucking shirt—"

"My fucking shirt," he repeated, voice rough. "And you think I wouldn't become possessive? Think I didn't see the way you stretched in it, how you leaned in close, pretending like you didn't know exactly what you were doing?"

Your breath hitched. You did not realize he saw you this way.

You swallowed, trying to find solid ground beneath the sudden energy shift, but Yoongi wasn't giving you the chance.

"You wanted me to react?" His eyes burned into yours. "You wanted this?"

The heat between you became unbearable.

"I—" You started, but you had no words.

Because now, finally, Yoongi wasn't holding back.

And neither were you.

Your pulse hammered in your throat as his words sank in, wrapping around your ribs, tightening like a snare. You had been waiting—aching—for a reaction, pushing buttons you hadn't even fully understood yourself. But now? Now, Yoongi was looking at you like he had already decided.

His breath was warm against your cheek, the space between you non-existent.

"Say it," he murmured.

You licked your lips, the movement not lost on him. "Say what?"

Yoongi let out a short, dark chuckle. "That you like it. That you like this—the way I look at you, the way I see you."

Your stomach flipped.

"You're so full of shit," you whispered, but there was no weight behind it but pure provocation.

His fingers twitched against the wall before he exhaled sharply and leaned in, just enough for your breaths to tangle.

"And you'll be full of me."

"You big enough?" 

Oh, that did it.

A sharp, involuntary gasp left his lips and your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up. The air between you turned electric, charged with something too dangerous to name.

Yoongi's gaze darkened, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as if savouring the way your breath hitched when he looked at you that way. He bit down his lower lip before he spoke again, laying his palms on the flat surface of the table in front of the piano that lay on it–

"There are two possibilities happening between us—" He tilted his head slightly, gaze never wavering from yours, his voice a low rasp against your skin.

"One—we make this official,—" He said it like it was inevitable, like it was a fact written in stone. "No more rumours, no more bullshit. No one else but us. Just you and me."

Your breath stuttered, your heart slamming against your ribs.

"And the second?" you whispered, barely able to form the words.

Yoongi smirked, slow and sinful, his fingers twitching against the wall before he leaned in, his mouth a breath away from yours.

"I keep writing my songs, keep filling my verses with filth about how I would fuck you good and hard—until you finally beg me to bury my cock in your cunt."

“And people will hear you’re mine—”

Your entire body went hot. Yoongi's smirk widened, watching the way your breath stuttered, your pupils blown wide. He tilted his head, gaze flicking down to your parted lips, his voice dropping even lower. Your thighs clenched a traitorous reaction that made his smirk turn predatory.

"You—"

"That's the difference between them and me, baby." His fingers ghosted over your waist, light enough to make you shiver. "They just talk. I fucking deliver."

You swallowed hard, your pulse thrumming so violently it was a wonder you were still standing.

"You're so—"

"What?" Yoongi pressed in closer, his nose brushing against yours. "Say it."

You had no idea what you were going to say.

But when his fingers finally curled around your hip, pulling you flush against him, the words you should say, the ones that would stop this before it went too far—before you gave in—died in your throat.

"Fucking thought so." He smirked again. That smirk. That fucking smirk.

It did something to you, something dangerous, something you weren't sure you could control. It made you want to wipe it off his face—maybe with a slap, maybe with your mouth.

Yoongi knew it, too.

He leaned in just a fraction closer, his breath hot against your cheek, his grip tightening on your hip as if daring you to push him away.

You didn't.

"See?" His voice was silk and smoke, smooth but lethal. "You love this. You love the way I get under your skin. The way I make you feel."

Your nails dug into your palms. "You don't know shit about what I feel."

Yoongi chuckled, low and rough. "Don't I?"

His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down your side, stopping just shy of indecency but still making you shudder.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured. "Tell me you don't want this, and I will."

It was the worst thing he could've said. Because the truth—the one you refused to admit even to yourself—was that you didn't want him to stop. Ever. You were so fucking needy to be touched after you got to know that your dried spell had a sorcerer and it was him. So technically now, he should be the one breaking it. And he knew it.

Your silence was all the confirmation he needed to press his lips against your neck.

His hands were suddenly everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your thighs, spreading you open like he had every right to.

"You think I'm going to let you run your mouth, push me to the edge, and not do something about it?" His voice was a rasp, thick with hunger. "You think I don't see how badly you want this?"

Your breath hitched as his thigh pressed between yours, the friction making your knees buckle. His mouth found your jaw, teeth scraping over sensitive skin before he kissed a path down your throat, sucking, biting, claiming.

You barely had time to think before he gripped your wrist, guiding your hand down—down—until your fingers brushed against him, hard and thick beneath his sweats. The sound that tore from his throat was pure sin.

"Feel that?" Yoongi growled, grinding against your palm. "That's what you do to me. That's what you fucking cause each time we're in this studio."

Your fingers flexed, a teasing squeeze that had his breath stuttering. He cursed under his breath, tilting your chin up with his free hand, forcing you to meet his gaze.

Dark. Devouring. Desperate.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured again, a cruel echo of earlier. But this time, there was no space between you, no restraint.

And you didn't.

Instead, you yanked his mouth to yours. Yoongi groaned into the kiss, the sound reverberating through you as his hands pushed under your shirt, fingers trailing over bare skin, leaving fire in their wake.

Your nails raked down his back as he lifted you effortlessly, pressing you harder against the wall.

His hips rolled, slow and devastating, and a moan ripped from your throat, shameless, wrecked.

"That's it, baby" he rasped, his forehead against yours, breath heavy. "That's the sound I've been waiting for."

His hand dipped lower, slipping past the band of your shorts, finding you soaked for him. Yoongi cursed, his fingers teasing, circling, before sliding through the wetness with devastating precision.

"Fuck," he groaned, voice hoarse. "You're already so fucking ready for me."

You didn't even get a chance to respond before he pushed a finger inside, then another, stretching you, filling you, working you open until you were trembling against him.

"Yoongi—"

"I know," he hushed you, his lips brushing against your ear, his fingers moving faster, deeper. "I've got you, baby. Just take it."

And fuck, you did. You took everything he gave, your body writhing against his as pleasure built sharp and unbearable, spiralling higher, tightening—

"Come for me," he ordered, his voice dark, commanding. "Come on my fingers like the desperate little thing I know you are."

And when he curled his fingers just right, his thumb pressing where you needed it most—

You shattered.

Completely. Utterly.

Yoongi swallowed your cry with his mouth, dragging it out, his hand still moving, still milking every last bit of pleasure from you until you were shaking in his arms.

Then, as you barely caught your breath, his voice came again, low and teasing.

"Now," he murmured, undoing the string of his sweats, letting them fall.

"I'll fuck you hard that you'll forget about those smutty books you're reading—"

Your body barely had time to recover before Yoongi was pressing closer, his fingers sliding away, leaving you aching and empty. But then—then—his hands were on your hips, tugging your shorts down, peeling them away with agonizing slowness, like he wanted you to feel every second of it.

Your breath stuttered as he stepped back just enough to look at you, his dark gaze trailing over your bare, trembling form.

"Fucking perfect," he muttered, almost to himself, before his hands gripped your thighs and lifted you, forcing your legs around his waist.

The weight of him, the sheer heat of him, pressed right against your core, had you gasping, fingers digging into his shoulders. Yoongi groaned low in his throat, rolling his hips just enough for you to feel all of him, hard and thick and ready.

"Ain’t big enough, huh?" he murmured, dragging his clothed crotch against your soaked heat. His voice was rough, strained. "I’ll show you how big I am."

Your nails bit into his skin, your body writhing against him as he kept teasing, kept torturing you with slow, precise movements. The friction had you panting, your forehead falling against his.

"Stop teasing," you managed, barely above a breath.

Yoongi chuckled, dark and knowing. "Look at you. So desperate for me already." His fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. "Tell me how much you want it."

You let out a sound between a whimper and a growl, rolling your hips against him in a silent plea. But that wasn't enough for him. Your heart racing, you felt his warm palm connect with your skin, a stinging sensation spreading through your buttocks as he spanked you. You let out a small yelp, but Yoongi didn't relent, his hand rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

"Say it." His voice was like gravel, low and demanding. "Say you want me to fuck you, Y/N. Say you need me." He pulled down his sweats enough so his cock sprang free from the confinement.

Your pride clashed with your need, the battle waging for only a moment before he rolled his hips again, pressing the thick head of his cock right against your entrance—and your resolve snapped.

"Fuck—I need you," you gasped, your fingers twisting into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan. "Please, Yoongi—just fuck me."

Something broke in him then.

With a guttural sound, he aligned himself and pushed inside, the stretch of him stealing the air from your lungs. He didn't stop, didn't hesitate—just drove forward, sinking deep until he was fully sheathed inside you until there was no space between you, nothing left but the overwhelming, consuming feel of him.

"Fuck," Yoongi gritted out, his forehead dropping to yours. His hands flexed against your thighs like he was trying to hold himself back, to give you a moment. "So fucking tight."

You could barely breathe, barely think, pleasure and pain and something deeper rolling through you in waves. But then he shifted, just slightly, and—

"Oh fuck," you gasped, your head falling back against the wall.

Yoongi's grip tightened, his breath hot against your skin. "Yeah?" He rolled his hips again, slow and deliberate, dragging himself out before thrusting back in, harder this time. Your moan was wrecked, broken—exactly what he wanted.

"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," he murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, across your collarbone. "Taking me so fucking well."

Then he moved. Snapping his hips as hard as he could to make your back rub against the wall, to make your head spin from the bouncing on his thick cock that made you see so many constellations. Up and down, up and down. He felt so good inside you, filling you completely as his hips slammed against yours.

The force of his thrust made you cry out, your fingers tangled in his dark raven hair, which you so openly adored when he kept longer. His mouth crashed down on yours, swallowing your moans as he drove into you with a fierce intensity, each stroke building on the last.

His hand cupped your breast and his thumb brushed over your nipple. The touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the fierce way he was driving into you. Your back arched, pushing your breast further into his hand, and you felt his fingers close around it, squeezing softly. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and you moaned loudly, the sound lost in the kiss that still claimed your mouth. Yoongi's hips kept moving, each thrust building on the last, and his hand on your breast seemed to be pulling you closer to some unseen edge. His fingers tightened around your nipple, rolling it between them, and you felt yourself teetering on the brink of something explosive.

Yoongi groaned, his grip almost bruising now, his thrusts turning erratic. "You gonna come for me again?" he rasped, his hips thrusting into you harder, each one was met with your breath hitching in your throat before you moaned. Loud.

"Gonna fall apart on my cock?"

It was too much—too good.

"I know what you want, love. What will make you cum around my cock."

Your body began to tense, your muscles coiling tighter and tighter as he spoke. "You want it rough," he growled, his thrusts becoming more savage, more primal.

"You want me to take you apart, piece by piece." His grip on your breast tightened, his fingers digging deep into your skin, and you felt yourself spiralling out of control.

His hand left your breast to envelope around your throat, his fingers wrapping tightly around your neck, his thumb pressing against the underside of your jaw. That was it. Your moans got even louder and he raised a brow. You felt a flutter in your chest as his grip tightened, his eyes burning with an intense hunger as he gazed into yours and he slowed down to observe your face that certainly did not hide any pleasure.

"Kinky," he rasped, his voice low and dirty. "So fucking kinky."

He held you in place, his grip on your throat tightening ever so slightly, he began to move his hips again, his cock stirring back to life inside you. His eyes burned with an intense desire, and you could feel the tension building in his body as he drove into you with slow, deliberate strokes.

"I'm going to fill you up, babe" he growled, his voice low and husky. "I'm going to make you take every last drop of me." And with that, he began to thrust into you harder again, faster again, his hips pounding against yours as he chased your release. You felt him swelling inside you, his cock growing thicker and hotter as he approached the edge.

Your orgasm crashed into you, and you could not even stop it. You wanted this to last until your body shuts down from all that pleasure he has given you. Your body locking up as pleasure burns through every nerve ending. You clenched around him, drawing a strangled moan from his lips, his hips snapping forward one last time before he broke. His release spilt deep inside you as he let out a low, guttural groan, his semen erupting into you in a hot, pulsing flood that warmed your walls. You felt him shudder and convulse above you, his body trembling with pleasure as he emptied himself into your waiting flesh

The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of being filled and claimed by him almost too much to bear. His chest heaving with exertion and for a moment, neither of you moved.

"You're so fucking mine," he murmured, voice still thick with satisfaction. He lifted his head to meet your lips once more before he said.

"Don't you ever question my devotion for you—" he started, panting after the little stunt you just pulled. 

“—Or the size of my cock, doll.” 

You only smiled wickedly into his lips. 

“You like us role-playing, tho—“ you started. Yoongi's grip on your waist tightened, his lips brushing over your collarbone as his breath warmed your skin. His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the curve of your body possessively. 

"He could not stop talking about it the whole fucking night, babe."

"Who, Jimin?" he asked, his tone dripping with amusement, yet there was an underlying tension in it, like he was trying to keep himself in check to not turn you over and fuck you in the ass. Even though he had to thank Jimin for this fuck prompt he unknowingly gave you an idea of (such a mundane trope) and the final ride you two just had. The thanking will wait until whenever you decide you want Jimin to know about you two.

Of course, something similar happened at the start of your relationship and you could not help yourself to let him fuck you against that wall once again. This time with a similar scenario but slightly adjusted replicas.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, though it was edged with a hint of frustration. You shifted under his touch, your heart still racing from the intensity of the night.

"Yeah. Couldn't stop about how people talk about us fucking our brains out here—"

"But we are—" his voice thick with the weight of his meaning, but his tone now softer than before. His mouth pressed against the sensitive skin just below your ear, and his hands pulled you closer, if that was even possible, as if to remind you of just how much he could claim you again and again and again.

You gasped, your body reacting to him in ways you couldn't control, and you felt a rush of vulnerability, knowing how deeply he could read you. "Yoongi," you breathed, trying to keep your composure, but he wasn't making it easy.

"Yeah, you can say that again," Yoongi whispered, his lips brushing against your ear before his teeth grazed the lobe, making your entire body shudder.

You swallowed hard, your head spinning. "I'm serious," you managed to say, even though your voice came out shaky. "Jimin—he thinks I'm still under that dry spell cuz' everybody thinks we're doing it—"

"Let him yap, love."

"Yeah I would, but he went to a point where he talked about how I'm gonna need to buy that Tesla robot to fuck me cuz' no living man will, thanks to you and your not-so-subtle hints that we're doing it—"

"My not-so-subtle hints?" He chuckled.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, feeling a mixture of amusement and frustration. "I mean, he was kinda making some good points," you teased, pretending to think it over. "We do have that whole 'will they, won't they' vibe going on."

Yoongi's fingers paused against your skin for a moment, as if he were considering your words, but then a slow, mischievous smirk crept onto his lips.

"What do you think, babe?"

"I—I think," you stammered, feeling the weight of the moment sink in, "I think we could've been doing a better damn good job of hiding it. But maybe—" You hesitated, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

"Maybe it's time we stop pretending."

"Well, next time Jimin mentions our 'vibe,' I'm making him listen to a few of our 'studio sessions.'"

Your eyes widened in mock horror. "Yoongi!" You gave him a dramatic shiver, and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.

"Exactly," Yoongi said, smirking mischievously. "That'll shut him up real quick."

"Good luck," you teased, tapping his chest lightly. "Maybe he'll start talking about how lucky you are to have me in your corner."

"Lucky, huh?" he mused, pulling you in for a hug. "You're damn right I'm lucky."

You grinned, enjoying the easy banter, letting the tension slip away as you let him hold you. It wasn't about proving anything to anyone—it was just the two of you, sharing this moment, enjoying each other's company and, of course, having a little fun at Jimin's expense.

"Wait—" you just realised.

"You know about my smutty books?!"

He threw his head back and gave a loud throat laugh in response.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, p.

[madebycloud]

No Erase

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh wait.

You forgot one thing.

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

The perfume.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

Finally.

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

—

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

Caitlyn's locker.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

Vi smirks. “Hey,” she greets.

That smirk alone pisses you off.

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

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

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

The audacity? 

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

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

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

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

“No?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe they're not coming at all.

And then you hear footsteps coming your way,

THIS IS IT.

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

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

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

Vi.

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

“Damn, you look good from this angle.” 

WHAT?

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

“Why are you here?”

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

Wait...  that's your letter!

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

How the hell did it end up with her?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That letter is meant for someone else!”

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

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

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

“How did you-”

“Someone put it in my locker.”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you grumble.

“Maybe? so it is yours?”

You avoid her gaze, avoiding her smug look.

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

“STOP READING IT!”

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

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

“You wrote this much for someone?”

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

“What are you, ten?” she retorts.

“And what are you, an idiot?”

“I'm not an idiot, unlike you.”

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

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

“And how the hell would you know?”

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

“They could still-”

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

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

“Maybe I was meant to have it then.”

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

“Maybe it's a sign.”

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

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

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

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

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

She's being weird. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why is that?”

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

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

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

You nod. “Back to normal.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I doubt it.”

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

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

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

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

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

She looks embarrassed.

She's embarrassed?

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

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

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

But you remind yourself, this is Vi.

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

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

—

Time passes by more slowly than a snail.

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

Why is time passing so slowly today?

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hallway is a goddamn mess.

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, what?

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

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

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

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

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

“Glad you came.” 

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

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

“What, no smart shits today?”

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

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

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

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

“...is it like fast?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hold on to what?”

“Me, dumbass. Grab my waist.”

“Hell no.”

“It's for your own safety.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She snorts. “Touchy, aren't we?”

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

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

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

“Just hold on tight.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Candy, huh?”

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

“Why do you know that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Why does she have candy anyway?”

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

“Really?”

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

You nod silently, impressed with this old lady.

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

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

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

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

Vi looks around as well. “Yep.”

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

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

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

“Pretty much.”

You groan. “I hate guys like that.”

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

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

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

You give her a weird look. “Why?”

“Well, you're... y'know… cute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

“Well, I don't.” 

“It's only a kiss.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

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

“Excuse me? I am an excellent kisser.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's no big deal. 

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

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

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

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

You're going to die.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you do it anyway.

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

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

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

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

She's actually gorgeous.

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

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

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

—

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

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

You hum, nodding along.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, oddly enough, you feel safe.

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

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

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

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

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

But... you are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't get it.

What changed?

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

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

And you're still the same.

Everything, suddenly, feels... different.

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

The only thing that hasn't changed is her.

Well, no, that’s a lie.

She has changed.

She feels different.

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

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

Everything is just different.

Maybe the two of you had changed.

But you're not sure how.

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

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

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

For now.

You don't understand.

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

Because you're not sure how to process everything.

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

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

She tilts her head. “I do? Where?”

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

What in ever loving hell are you thinking?

“Hello? you alive over there?”

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

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

Everything feels... slower.

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

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

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

...

Holy shit.

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

Damn it, what the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I got it,” you insist.

“I know you can, but let me.” 

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

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

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

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

“So-”

“I-”

You cough awkwardly. “Go ahead.”

“No, you can speak first-”

“No, no, I insist. Go ahead-”

“I'm fine-”

“Stop being stubborn-”

“Says you-”

“Yeah, I am stubborn-"

“Shut up-”

“Make me-”

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

“Are you challenging me-”

She snorts. “Pfft, no, that-”

“Then why would you say something like that?”

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

“It wasn't.”

“It was a little funny.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I remember, I'm not an idiot.”

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

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

“The feeling is mutual,” you quip back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you at school, then?”

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

“Hey,” she suddenly says.

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

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

You shrug. “Yeah, go ahead.”

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

“I'm not promising anything-”

“Just... humor me.”

“Fine. I promise I won't get mad.”

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

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

“You don't?”

“No... I don't hate you.”

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

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

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

“Yes… that time.”

“Seriously? that was months ago.”

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

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

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

“I was distracted,” she counters.

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

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

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

She falls silent, looking away again.

Wait.

Hold on.

What?

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you want?”

“What was that person's name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Cause, I have a hunch.”

“Care to share this hunch with me?”

“Uh, Caitlyn Kiramman…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Didn't what?”

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

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

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

You shut up.

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

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

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

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

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

Wait... what the actual fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

Prove it.

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

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

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

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

And by god, she will prove herself.

[nomie-11]

Last Call Home

masterlist! | read part 2 here!

synopsis: you had promised years ago that when Vi went to university, you would stay back and take care of Powder and tuition until she graduated. You just didn't understand the toll it would take on yourself.

pairings: vi x reader, powder is lowkey reader's adoptive daughter

“Hey, it’s Vi. Just wanted to call and let you know that I love you and I miss you, and I know I promised I’d be home for the weekend, but Cait needed me for a lab her and Jayce were working on. I promise I’ll come visit you and Pow soon. Happy Valentine's Day, baby.”

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, February 14th, 11:36 p.m.

—————————

Working at The Last Drop wasn’t where you had seen yourself in the long run. When your senior year homeroom teacher had asked you where you wanted to be in the next five years, you would have said university, maybe a job in a field you fell in love with, an apartment with Vi that has a balcony and a nice view.

Not living in the same city in the same dingy apartment since graduation, no college degree and a stagnant job at a bar no one came too unless college was on break. 

But that was you, at the ripe age of twenty two. 

Trudging home after a long shift at the bar, but you had work to get done, things to do before tomorrow. Laundry, bills, maybe dinner if there was enough in the fridge for Powder to eat for the next three days until you got paid and could go food shopping. 

The door to your apartment pushed open with a soft click, the scent of the cheap countertop cleaner you bought immediately assaulting your nose. 

“Hey,” Powder said, not looking up from her seat on the floor by the coffee table. She was doing the art assignment her (ridiculously expensive) therapist had told her to do. 

“Hey baby,” you said, forcing a smile onto your face as you kicked off your work boots and sat heavily onto the couch. “How was school?”

She glanced up at you, her soft, violet blue eyes giving you a one over before she answered. 

“It was good,” she nodded. 

You nodded back, draping an arm over your eyes as you stared up at the ceiling. It was unfair to Powder, and you knew it, but ever since her and Vi’s dad had keeled over and died of a heart attack four years ago, and Vi left for school the year after, you were all she had left. 

“Good.”

————————————

“Fuck, I totally forgot that tomorrow is Powder’s art showcase. I know I promised I’d be back home for it, but finals are next week and I really need to study. Just… send me photos of it, ok? I just want to see her. She’s getting so big. I’m sorry again, Y/n. I miss you.”

——phone call from Vi to Y/n, March 4th, 1:47 p.m.

———————————

Mornings started early. You never had time to make Powder's lunch when you got home from work, so you woke up before dawn to make her breakfast and something somewhat nutritious to eat. The last time you actually had enough money to take her to a family doctor, the only comment they had was that you must have been starving her with how underweight she was. 

You hated the implication, hated yourself more for not being able to prove them wrong. Powder deserved better. You didn’t even bother with breakfast for yourself anymore—not since the last time you stepped on the scale and realized your clothes were fitting tighter than they used to. Some days you told yourself it was just muscle from hauling kegs and scrubbing down the bar; other days you knew better, people aren’t meant to live off of cheap frozen meals and energy drinks. 

You shoved a granola bar and an overripe apple into Powder’s bag, watching her from the corner of your eye as she meticulously folded her art supplies into a second-hand tote you had re-sewn more time than you can count. Her hands moved with care, but there was a tension in her shoulders that weighed too heavy for a thirteen year old. She wasn’t even your sister, you were her sister's girlfriend by relationship, but she might as well have been your daughter at this point. 

She caught you looking, and her soft frown deepened. 

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” she murmured. 

“Doing what?” You asked, tying the handles of her lunch bag into a bow as casually as you could. 

“Pretending everything’s okay.” Powder’s words were quiet, but they struck you like a fist. 

You didn’t answer, just slid her bag over the counter to her and kissed the top of her hair. “Have a good day at school, baby,” you whispered, even as the lump in your throat threatened to consume you. 

——————————

“I finally booked train tickets for May, so I’ll be home for two weeks before I have to go on that research trip. Maybe we can plan a day, just me, you, and Powder? We can go to that art museum she loves—tickets are free for under eighteen, I’m sure we can still pass as high schoolers. Sound good? School is really kicking my ass. I just want to come home.”

——phone call from Vi to Y/n, April 24th, 11:23 a.m.

—————

A part of you wasn’t ready to see Vi. 

It wasn’t anger or resentment—not entirely. It was something deeper, heavier. A dull ache that grew each time her name lit up your phone, her voice brimming with excuses that always sounded too reasonable to argue with. You hated how your heart still jumped at the sound of her voice, how it softened just a little each time that she said she missed you. You hated that a part of you believed her. 

You glanced at Powder’s latest painting propped up against the wall by the coffee table. It was a tangled mess of blues and reds, dark shadows streaking through what looked like broken glass. It was beautiful, haunting even, but it wasn’t a pre-teen’s painting. It was too raw, too heavy. 

Powder was supposed to be excited about Vi’s visit. She’d circled the date on the calendar in her favorite bright pink pen, but now you weren’t so sure. She didn’t talk about her sister much anymore, and when she did, it was only in passing. 

The sound of her footsteps pulled you out of your thoughts. She wandered into the living room, still in her pajamas, her hair a long mess waiting for you to braid it carefully. “Is she really coming this time?” 

You sighed, unsure how to answer. “She says she is. She booked the tickets.”

Powder sat on the couch, curling into herself as she hugged a pillow to her chest. “She always says that.”

You didn’t have the heart to argue. She was right. 

—————

“I’m on the train now! Can’t wait to see you. I know I’ve been gone too long, but I’m gonna make it up to you and Pow. I swear. I brought her those paint sets she’s been wanting. Love you.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, May 5th, 3:13 p.m.

—————

You heard her before you saw her—the creak of the apartment door, her familiar laugh as she stumbled inside carrying her overstuffed duffle bag. Powder froze beside you on the couch, her pencil hovering mid-stroke over her sketchbook. 

“Hey! I’m home!” Vi’s voice was warm, teasing, like she hadn’t been gone for months. 

You stood slowly, your heart pounding in your chest as Vi rounded the corner, her eyes lighting up when they met yours. “There’s my girl,” she said softly, dropping her bag and pulling you into her arms. She smelled the same—like leather and lavender, and the faint scent of cigarette smoke that lingered from the months before she quit. You wanted to melt into her, but something held you back. 

Powder didn’t move from the couch. She stared at Vi, her face unreadable. “You’re late,” she said quietly. 

Vi’s smile faltered. “I know, Pow. I’m sorry. The train—”

“Doesn’t matter.” Powder stood, brushing past her sister without another word and disappearing into her room. 

Vi’s shoulders sagged. “She hates me, doesn’t she?” 

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. “She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t know how to trust you anymore.” 

Vi winced, her hands finding your waist as she looked at you with familiar, guilty eyes. “Do you still trust me?” 

Your throat tightened. You wanted to say yes, wanted to believe it was true. But trust wasn’t built on promise—it was built on presence. “I don’t know,” you whispered. 

And for the first time since you met her twelve years ago, Vi didn’t have a comeback. 

—————

“Pow’s still mad, isn’t she? I don’t blame her, but it sucks. I’m trying, Y/n. I swear I’m trying. I just… didn’t think everything would be so different. Anyway, tomorrow’s our museum day, right? I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I want it to be perfect. I’ll make it up to the both of you, I promise.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, May 7th, 9:42 p.m.

—————

The museum was quieter than usual, the midday crowd sparse except for a few families and a group of art students sketching by a massive installation in the lobby. Powder walked a few steps ahead of you and Vi, her eyes scanning the walls, taking in every piece like she was cataloging them in her mind. 

Vi tried to catch up with her, her usual playful energy bubbling to the surface. “Hey, Pow, wait up!”

Powder didn’t slow down. She stopped in front of a painting—abstract, full of swirling colors and chaotic lines. “This one’s new,” she said, her voice distant. 

Vi stepped closer, her gaze flickering between Powder and the painting. “It’s cool. What do you think it’s about?” 

Powder shrugged, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Maybe it’s about someone trying to fix something, but they keep messing it up instead.” 

Vi flinched, but you placed a gentle hand on her arm before she could respond. “It’s beautiful, Pow,” you said softly. 

Powder glanced at you, her expression softening just a little. “Yeah. I guess.” 

Vi stayed quiet after that, no attempts to joke or lighten the mood. You could tell she felt out of place, like a guest in her little sister and her girlfriend’s lives. 

Lunch was better—Powder perked up when she was able to order a large side of fries instead of splitting a small with you, and Vi managed to coax a small smile out of her when the three of you went out for ice cream after, and Vi shelled out the extra twenty five cents for rainbow sprinkles on top. But the weight between them lingered, a silent reminder that some things couldn’t be fixed in a single day. 

—————

“Hey, it’s me. Just wanted to say I’ll wait up for you tonight, okay? I know you’ve been working late, but I want to spend some time with you. Maybe we can talk. Love you, Y/n.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, May 9th, 7:12 p.m.

—————

You came home long past midnight, your body aching from another double shift. The sound of the TV murmuring in the background greeted you as you pushed the door open, and there was Vi, sprawled out on the ouch, half-asleep but still waiting for you. 

“Hey,” she mumbled, sitting up as you dropped your bag and kicked off your worn shoes. “You look exhausted.” 

“I am,” you said simply, your voice flat. 

Vi frowned, her eyes scanning you more closely now. She took in the dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped, the stains on your work uniform no amount of scrubbing could get out, the strain on the clothes you couldn’t afford to replace. Her gaze drifted to the pile of unopened bills on the kitchen counter, the worn-out sneakers by the door, the way Powder’s bedroom light was still on because she refused to sleep unless she was sure you were home. 

“Y/n…” Vi started, her voice low and uncertain. 

“What?” you asked, dropping heavily onto the couch beside her. 

“I didn’t realize…” She gestured vaguely around the apartment. “All of this. How much you’re doing. For Pow, for—everything.” 

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “What did you think I was doing while you were at school, Vi? Sitting around waiting for you to come back?”

Her face fell, guilt washing over her. “No, I just—”

“You didn’t notice,” you interrupted, your voice sharp. “Because you weren’t here.” 

Vi looked away, her jaw tight. “I’m here now.” 

“Yeah,” you said bitterly. “For two weeks. And then you’re gone again, off to some research trip or lab or whatever else is more important than being home for Powder’s fourteenth birthday and her next art showcase and all of her other achievements.” 

Silence settled between you, heavy and suffocating. Vi reached for your hand, her touch tentative. “I know I’ve screwed up,” she said quietly. “And I know I can’t fix it in two weeks, but I want to try. Please, Y/n, let me try.” 

You wanted to believe her, but the exhaustion in your bones made it hard to hope. Pulling your hand away as you stood, you couldn't bear to look at her. “I’m going to bed.” 

Vi stayed on the couch long after you disappeared into the bedroom, the weight of her absence these past years settling over her like a heavy blanket. For the first time, she truly saw the cracks in the life she’d left behind—and the toll they’d taken on the people who’d given her the means to leave. 

—————

“Hey, Cait. It’s me. Look, I’ve been thinking, and I know it’s a big ask, but… is that offer for the spare apartment still on the table? It’s just—things here are worse than I thought. Y/n is working herself to death, and Powder’s not doing great. I want to bring them to Piltover. They deserve better than this. 

I swear, I’ll make it work. I’ll get a part-time job, and once we graduate, I’ll pay you back for everything. I just need to know if it’s okay, if you’re okay with it. They’re—well, they’re  my everything, Cait. I can’t keep leaving them like this. Let me know, okay? Thanks. For everything.” 

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, May 9th, 11:37 p.m.

—————

The restaurant wasn’t fancy by Piltover standards, but it was leagues above the dingy diners you frequented when you had enough saved up to get Powder a vanilla milkshake and a burger. The dim lighting made the worn wooden tables look almost elegant, and the scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling garlic filled the air. Powder’s eyes were wide as she took it all in, her sketchbook clenched tightly in her hands like she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Vi had insisted on treating the two of you, though you weren’t sure where she’d gotten the money. “A friend helped out,” she’d said with a sheepish grin, waving off your questions. 

The meal was nice—better than nice, really. Powder had polished off a plate of pasta bigger than her head, and Vi hadn’t stopped smiling since you walked in. But when the plates were cleared and the check paid, Vi leaned forward, her expression turning serious. 

“I need to talk to you both about something,” she said, her voice steady but soft. 

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Powder, who was busy doodling on a napkin. “What’s going on?” 

Vi took a deep breath. “I want you both to come to Piltover with me.” 

Your stomach dropped. “What?” 

“I talked to Caitlyn,” Vi continued, her gaze fixed on yours. “She has a spare apartment, and she said we can stay there. Rent-free. She’s even willing to cover Powder’s school and therapy until I can get a good enough job to take care of it myself. And you can enroll in community college until I graduate and transfer to Piltover University. A fresh start for the both of you.” 

Your head was spinning. “Vi, that’s… that’s huge. We can’t just pack up and leave. What about Powder’s school? She can’t handle transferring in the middle of the year. Finding a new therapist she trusts? My job?”

“I know it’s a lot,” Vi said quickly, her hand reaching for yours. “But Caitlyn’s family is crazy rich, and she said she can help with everything. We’ll find Powder a new school with a great art program, a new therapist to help with her BPD, whatever she needs. And you won’t have to work like this anymore, Y/n. You can focus on what you want to do, not just surviving.” 

Powder looked up from her drawing, her eyes wide. “You want us to move to Piltover?” 

“Yeah, Pow,” Vi said gently. “I know it’s scary, but I think it would be really good for you. For us.” 

You pulled your hands back, shaking your head. “This is too much, Vi. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we can’t—”

“It will work,” VI interrupted, her voice firm but pleading. “I’ll make sure of it. I’m not asking you to trust Caitlyn or her family. Just trust me. I’ve got you.” 

Silence hung between you, heavy with unspoken fears. Powder’s gaze flickered between the two of you, her expression uncertain but curious with the hope of a future you wished you could provide but would never be able to afford on your own. 

“I don’t know,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need time to think about it.” 

“Take all the time you need,” Vi said, her tone softening. “But just… think about it, okay? You can’t keep up like this.” 

You nodded, but the weight of the decision settled in your chest like a stone. Vi’s words made sense, but they didn’t erase the fear gnawing at you. This might have been miserable, but this was home. 

—————

“Do you think Powder will hate me for leaving again? I don’t want to go.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, May 15th, 2:54 p.m.

—————

The train station was as dreary as you remembered it being the first time Vi left. The cold concreted floors and harsh fluorescent lights did nothing to make the moment any easier. Powder clung to Vi’s waist like her life depended on it, her sobs muffled against the soft leather of her sister’s favorite jacket. 

“Hey, Pow,” Vi said softly, brushing a hand through her hair. “You’ve gotta let go, okay? I promise I’ll come back. You’ll see me again soon.” 

Powder shook her head, her tears soaking into Vi’s clothes. “Please, Violet! I don’t want you to go!” she choked out, calling her older sister by her full name. 

You stood a few steps away, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying to keep it together. But when Vi turned to you, her eyes shining with unshed tears, your resolve cracked.

“You’ll take care of her, right?” Vi asked, her voice breaking just a little. 

“Always,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. 

Vi stepped forward and pulled you into a tight hug, Powder squeezed between the two of you. “I love you,” she murmured against your lips. “Both of you.” 

“I love you too,” you said, your voice barely audible as you buried your face in her shoulder. 

The train whistle blew, loud and piercing, signaling the last boarding call. Vi pulled back reluctantly, kneeling to press a kiss to Powder’s forehead, and then standing to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ll call as soon as I get back to my apartment,” she promised, her voice trembling. 

Powder reached for her again, but you gently pried her hands away, lifting her up as if she was still the nine year old girl watching her sister leave for the first time. She wrapped herself around like she had when she was younger, her legs around your waist and her arms clinging to your neck as if letting go would make everything fall apart. 

Vi hesitated on the platform, her eyes fixed on the two of you until the last second. Then she turned and boarded the train, disappearing through the doors. 

You and Powder stood there as the train pulled away, her sobs shaking against your chest. Watching Vi go felt like losing her all over again, and you couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, baby,” you whispered as you held her tight against your chest as if she was a backpack you had strapped to your front. “We’ll be okay. Let’s go home.” 

But even as you said it, you weren’t sure if you believed it. 

The walk back to the apartment was long and heavy, Powder’s weight in your arms a reminder of how young she still was despite everything she’d been through. Her sobs quieted eventually, but she didn’t let go, her face buried against your neck like she was trying to hide from the world. 

When you finally made it home, the apartment felt emptier than it ever had before. 

—————

“Hey, Vi. It’s Y/n. I know you’re probably in a lab right now, but I just dropped off Powder at school. I quit my job on an impulse last night, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I can’t do this anymore. I miss you, and I just— I think we’ll do it. I think we’ll move to Piltover.” 

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, June 1st, 8:02 a.m.

Read part 2 here!

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[teamatsumu]

where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)

summary: “you confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesn’t matter ” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions

word count: 1981

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties

event masterlist

There is a light in Shoyo that just won’t dim. Not that you want it to. It’s your favorite thing about him.

There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. He’s lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. It’s not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.

It’s no wonder you’re hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.

Friend.

The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyo’s hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didn’t even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.

High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he won’t. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.

Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You can’t trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.

Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.

“Ready for dinner?”

Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyo’s choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesn’t like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.

When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you don’t bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you don’t want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.

“Are you excited for beach volleyball?”

He nods around a mouthful of noodles. “I have just two years to learn it, so I’m a bit nervous. But I can’t wait to start!”

You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. “You’ll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.”

And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.

You can feel your shoulders drop.

After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.

As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.

When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.

“I have something to say.” You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.

“For the last three years, you’ve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I can’t believe I met someone like you. You’re always so supportive, Shoyo, and you’ve really helped me be the best version of myself.”

You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyo’s face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.

“I like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.”

Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.

Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.

“You don’t have to say anything!” You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. “I don’t want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.”

You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You don’t let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.

“Do your best in Brazil, Shoyo. I’m counting on you.”

And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.

……………………

Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.

Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. It’s a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.

Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. It’s a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesn’t matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.

Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.

You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You don’t hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.

You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.

He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.

“Hi.” He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.

“Shoyo…” Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.

“Can I come in?” He asks sheepishly.

You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. “Of course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.”

You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And he’s back. You reel with the revelation.

“How have you been?” He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seems…. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.

“I’m- I’ve been good. You?”

“Me too.”

“Okay good.”

Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.

“I’m going to make tea!” You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.

Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You aren’t surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.

That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, you’re not sure you want to.

A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.

“Can we….. pick up where we left off?” He doesn’t glance up at you, playing with his hands.

You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.

“You never let me reply that day. And…. I didn’t think I should either, because I was leaving. But now…”

He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyo’s next words seal the deal.

“I like you tons.”

You can’t help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.

“I like you tons too.”

Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.

[heartfullofleeches]

Always the Bridesmaid

Male Ghost Darling Prologue

Word Count: 1.7k

[Major Character Death, Angst, Darling is a male who wishes to dresses and hinted to appear more feminine]

-

Stolen words sow seeds of resentment and hatred in an affair never meant to be. 

In school, the pretty ones received the most attention. 

Friends, admirers, confessions hidden between the pages of their books and in their lockers. The old you would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous, but the spotlight was not what spoke to you in whispers.

“Oh my god- Oh my god… Y/n… He asked me to be his date for prom! He said I was the prettiest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on…” 

Pretty…

Within the sanctity of your mind, just one time - you dreamed that someone out there would use the same words to describe you. 

Beautiful. 

Angelic.

Irreplaceable. 

All the lyrics sung by the infatuated heart of your best friend's secret valentine. The mystery of his identity was solved after the first note. It wasn't your intention, but you couldn't help but point out how similar the writing looked to a boy's that sat behind you in math. The two of you hardly ever spoke, but after passing his tests to the front for a quarter of the year, you wouldn't mistake that handwriting for anyone else's. 

You'd later find out your best friend had had a crush on him since her family moved into the house next to his. It stung to witness how protective over him she was, but after pinning over the same person since you were small - you guessed you'd be a little overbearing if your feelings were reciprocated after all this time. 

-

It was like a fairytale. Your best friend as the common maiden transformed into a princess for one evening, and her prince waiting with bated breath at her arrival. 

“If your feelings for me are the same, meet me in the corner of the auditorium. I'll be waiting for you with baby's breath.” 

You'll never forget the look as you both walked into together. Like he had seen the stars for the first time in all of his years. The twinkle in his eye dwindled as your friend rushed forward to embrace him. Still, he welcomed her with open arms. 

As the night ended, she left with him on her arm, while you stood alone with his jacket draped over your shoulders. He had noticed you shivering even with that puffy jacket of yours and offered it to you as they left. 

You begged on your hands and knees for the teachers to give you a minute along while you searched for something you had forgotten. Ensuring that you were the only soul in that auditorium that night - the stuffy hoodie you wore the entire night was ripped clean of your body and tossed into the ether.

It wasn't much. A cream shirt dress your friend had lent you for the occasion. In the dimmed light of the room, the dress almost appeared white. It wasn't much, but in that single moment - swirling to your heart's content til the stage lights above you sparkled the same as a starry night sky-

You felt…

“Gorgeous…”

The voice was barely audible over the music blasting in your ears.

“Forgive me… Think my keys are still in the pocket of my coat… It looks like you're having fun in here all by yourself… Would be nicer with company.” 

Your heart hammered in your chest. Your best friend was the only one who knew. You didn't know him. Despite what he said, there was no telling what he would say tomorrow with his boys. 

“May I have this dance?” 

His outstretched hand may as well been a dagger to you - a bundle of the same flowers he gave your friend rested in his palm. She wasn't with you, so why had the light returned to his eyes as he gazed endlessly into yours. You were scared. To this day, that fear lingers deep in the trenches of your chest. 

Collecting your discarded hood, you rush out of the auditorium as quickly as your feet will carry you - never looking back.

-

The events of that night were not a blip on your relationship with your friend's new boyfriend. As a matter of fact, the three of you were practically a trio. You were often the third wheel on their dates. If he bought her something, you frequently received a duplicate- sometimes before she received hers. The gifts were primarily sweets and stuffed toys, but there were a few outliers.

“This skirt is for me?... You know I'm a guy.. Right?” 

“Well aware.” 

You figured he was just being nice. After the whole fiasco at prom, there was no hiding from him. He knew your exact measurements and everything. She must've helped him. 

-

With college rolling around, it appeared as if their bond was growing by the day. Upon the confirmation that you all would be attending the same school, your best friend took the big leap herself and proposed to her boyfriend of almost two years. He never looked at her once as he spoke. You were standing right behind her. 

“I'd give my very life to spend even a day more with you. To have you by my side forever would be a dream come true.” 

You couldn't be happier for the two of them.

Venue hunting, cake testing, dress shopping. As the brother she never had, and the second most important man in her life, you joined her for it all. As you were out shopping for a day centered entirely around herself and her groom to be, your friend had one big surprise for you. 

“Pick one.” 

“I….I can't.. What if?...”

“If anyone says a word to you or even looks at you the wrong way I'll drag them out myself if I have to. You're not just my best friend, Y/n. You're family. And you deserve to be with us, comfortable in your own skin.” 

You already knew she accepted you as you were, but it was the first time you felt seen.

The pleasantries didn't end there-

Spirits high from the touching moment between you and having found the perfect dress for her on only the second day of searching, your friend had one more gift for you. 

“Try it on.” 

“W-what? But it's your-”

“And someday you'll wear one on your big day. That's what you want, isn't it? A glimpse into your future won't hurt, will it?”

It wouldn't. Even if there's no one waiting for you at the altar, you've always wanted to be that picture perfect bride on top of wedding cakes.

With tear eyes, you sit before her vanity as she dresses you - styling your hair for the veil's crown, painting your lips with a glossy shine that bleeds through the cloth’s transparency, shading your eyes with a shadow that would steal even the toughest hearts with a single glance. 

“How do you feel?” 

You don't just feel it. 

You are beautiful. 

“You could've been the one marrying him instead of me. Just thinking about that makes me so jealous…” 

Her words fly overhead as you gaze longingly at yourself in the mirror. 

“I….I think I have some jewelry in the basement that would suit you nicely. I'll be back in a minute!” 

Jewelry?...

Rising up from your seat as she departs, you dig through the contents of your book bag - fingertips lacing the plastic band of a fake ring you won months prior during an outing with your friends. You had an inkling the games at the arcade were rigged which is why you were lacking in tickets. It was between that and a piece of candy. Your best friend's boyfriend thought it was the funniest thing if he proposed to you with it in front of everyone. 

Slipping the ring onto your ring finger, your image is complete. No greater amount of jewelry would change how ethereal you were. The veil hid your insecurities, imperfections that with emotional growth and age you'd come to accept and love about yourself. Once you love yourself, perhaps you'll seek a love like that shared between your friend and her soon to be.

Your heart swells in your chest, it beats as if its readying to burst-

Enriching the blood that streams down your torso like the tears of a bride abandoned at the altar. 

It hurts.

Your legs give out before the pain fully registers. 

You gasp, every ragged breath growing wetter with the blood filling your throat. Through the veil's mask, you cannot see your attacker's face. You can hear it- The virtual rage and anger in their snarl, poison seething through their clenched teeth. 

“I can't stand the sight of you.” 

They grip the veil’s crown.

“For two years I've lived this lie. All while he's been right next to me this whole time.” 

Your hands perch over your chest in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding - a foretelling of your impending fate. 

“Did you really think I'd ever be happy with you?” 

Your vision flickers as the veil is torn clean - your worst suspensions proven true. You couldn't forget that voice. 

“....”

“....Y/n?” 

All the anger, the bottled up spite and disgust depletes from his body as he crumbles to the ground behind you. The additional pressure to your wounds does little to stop the bleeding. It's already too late.

“Y/n?.... Y/n?! No, no, no! What are you doing here! It was supposed to be her! It was supposed to be her….”

It's raining. Droplets rain down on your palling face as he slips his fingers between yours - a puzzle that fits perfectly in place. His finger rolls over the cheap, fake ring on your finger - the droplets increasing in frequency. 

“It was always supposed to be you. Ever since I saw you from her window. I've always… but she… she took every note. Even ones I didn't write. Everyone knew how beautiful you were.”

That can't be true…

“Am I… Am…I still….?”

“Yes, my love. You are, and always will be - the most beautiful person anyone has ever seen.” 

With those words you could die in peace. 

But there is someone who will never let you rest.

For as long as his soul still resides on this earth without you by his side.

His everything. 

His bride.

[signedkoko]

Signed with Love - Hazbin Cast

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Characters - Adam | Alastor | Charlie | Cherri | Husk | Lucifer | Lute | Pentious | Vaggie

Series Parts Overlords & SIns - Here! Helluva Cast - Here!

Sup bitch,

Looking for a valentine, cupid told me ur my soulmate, so how about you be mine?

You know I love teasing ya babe, but really, I got a reso for that restaurant you love, I'd tell you what to wear but the less the better.

Lova ya hot stuff

ORIGINAL DICKMASTER

Salutations my lovely doe!

Another opportunity to show my dear just how much I love them, what more could I ask?

I'd offer my cooking, but I know you don't have quite the palette for venison. Instead, I've prepared a private dinner, catered to by a lovely cafe a good friend of mine runs.

I'll be there to get you at half past two,

A.

Hiii ❣

I hope you don't mind me asking but I REALLY wanted to be the one to ask if you'd be my valentine?

I haven't decided what we should do yet, I was thinking rock climbing, or how about a fancy dinner? Ahh I have so many ideas! We can talk about it later!

Thinking of you always,

Charlie (Morningstar, Princess of Hell, Manager of the Hazbin Hotel (now booking!!), potential valentine of you!)

Heya girly,

I'm not one for holidays, but I know you reallllly wanted to try this one out. So! be my valentine?

I'll bring you to that great viewpoint I hang at, maybe show you how I make some of my arsenal. Just dress comfy, it's going to be a lot of moving!

You better be swooning already!

Your favourite 💣

Hey,

I'm thinking this year we could try something new. As stupid as it sounds, will you be my valentine?

I've got a stack of rental movies and one empty ass theatre room. Still sure no one realized we even have one, but what the hell, right? Let me know what you think and we can go pick up some drinks before.

Looking forward to it,

Husker

Hiii ❣

I know you told me not to go crazy this year, but how could I not! So, valentine...

I left a bag with this note, it's got a few outfits for you to pick that will match mine! Just be ready by 6 tonight, we've got a lot of stops. Drinks, dinner, a performance at Ozzie's, and a reserved spot in my bed tonight.

Happy valentines day,

Yours truly

I pray this letter reaches you,

Maybe you don't expect it of me, but you deserve to feel as special as everyone else this valentines.

So, I've got a surprise dinner set up for us this valentines. If you are willing, dress nice for four tomorrow and I can take you for a flight before it. Just don't wear anything that might fall off.

Your angel,

Lt. Lute

Dearest serpentine,

It would be ever so joyous to accompany you this valentines, if that is okay of course!

My egg bois have insisted upon serenading us and treating us to a nice dinner in my war machine. I promise you it is in prim and proper shape for such a day.

Yours sincerely

(Future) Overlord Pentious

Hey hun,

You've talked a lot about valentines recently, and while I know we said we'd overlook it, I feel like you deserve to know how much I love you.

When you get the chance, I've got a bottle of wine and a free night to decide what we want to do. Just swing by after eight?

See ya valentine,

Vaggie

Authors Note - Ahahaha can you tell I don't write Adam much? Either way, part one of the valentines series 🖤 If you don't have a valentine this year, please allow me to be yours! Or let me know which of these folks you'd accept a letter from 🤭

[sungbeams]

[ 7:26 PM ] — LHS

⟡ ┆ pairing. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship

⟡ ┆ content warnings. unprotected sex, kitchen sex, basically no prep (don't do that), dirty talk??

⟡ ┆ word count. 2.6k

⟡ ┆ note. back with actual written stuff after posting fake texts and the insta stories for a bit now. biggest thank you to @jayparked who read this and left 65 comments on the google doc lmaoo ily snail <3

Wiping down your kitchen counters after an afternoon spent baking, ridding them of the flour and left over crumbs of dough, you feel two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist. The familiar scent of your boyfriend's cologne fills your nose as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His plump lips leave a burning hot trail down your neck, your fingers tightly grasping onto the edge of the counter in front of you to steady yourself as he nibbles on your skin, surely leaving marks you'd have to worry about tomorrow — not that you can bring yourself to care right now.

"Hee, what-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, "what's gotten into you? You just came home. Don't you want to rest?"

Detaching his lips from your neck, he lets his hands wander over your body, up your torso and ghosting over your covered breasts, the touch causing your nipples to harden underneath your shirt. His lips brush against your earlobe as he mumbles into your ear, "Can't a guy miss his girlfriend? I've been thinking about coming home to you all day, and now here you are, looking all nice and wifey for me. Besides, it's Valentine's Day soon. We've barely had any time just for ourselves recently."

"I know," you breathe out, your body slowly melting against his as you give in to his touches.

Heeseung's lips return to your neck, sucking marks onto your skin and drawing a moan from you. You've never been able to resist him, even when you wanted to, even when you tried, when your mind is telling you 'not here, not now' all you could do is give in to his touches and allow yourself to get carried into the burning hot fires of pleasure. And just like previous times — like that time he stole you away during nights out with friends to have his way with you in a bathroom stall, hoping no one would come in, or that time he had you pressed against the brick wall in an abandoned alley, praying no one would walk past to see his fingers buried knuckle-deep inside you  — you give in. You cannot deny the pure bliss shooting through your body, your underwear slowly dampening as your body betrays yourself. 

"Tell me you want me," he whispers as his fingers ghost over the seam of your skirt, itching to dip beneath it and get a feel for your wetness.

"Heeseung...I need you-"

"Even better," he chuckles, gliding his hands over your hips to lift up the bottom of your skirt.

Hand on your back, he slowly pushes your torso to lean forward, your chest pressing against the flour-covered counter — not that you care about potentially ruining your clothes, not when the only thing on your mind is feeling his cock deep inside you. Turning your head to the side, your cheek joins your chest in being pressed against the cool wooden counter, flour surely covering your skin and clothes now. Somewhere in your head, a tiny voice told you it would be a pain to clear up later, but you silence it, shove it down to focus on the here and now. 

Heeseung's hands on your ass send shockwaves through your body, quivering and shaking in anticipation of what’s to come. You can't see anything he's doing, only able to feel his fingers brush over the edge of your underwear, dipping underneath it and retreating again, but maybe the sheer unpredictability of it all is what is causing your excitement to rise with every beat of your heart, every breath filling your lungs.

Heeseung can see your desperation, the damp patch on your underwear seemingly growing with each moment. Teasingly, he moves one of his fingers underneath the seam of your panties again, letting the elastic snap around your skin and drawing a needy whine from you in response.

"How bad do you want it, baby?"

You gasp as he moves your underwear down your legs, your drenched core exposed to the soft breeze flowing through the open windows of the kitchen, "So bad. Please fuck me, give me your cock..."

"So, so needy," he tuts playfully, fabric rustling behind you as he undoes his pants and lets them fall onto the tiled floor beneath your feet. 

Carefully, he runs the tip of his cock through your drenched lips before slowly easing himself into your warm hole. His cock stretches you out in all the right ways, your walls molding to him as you suck him right in, both of you letting out strangled gasps at the feeling of finally being united. His hands run over your back, smoothing over your ass before his hand lightly smacks against your skin, your body jerking in response. A moaned plea falls from your lips, reaching backwards to urge him to finally, finally move, make you feel good, fill you up.

Heeseung is quick to comply, pulling his hips back until only the tip of his cock is embraced by you, just to bury himself deep inside you again with a forceful thrust forward. One of his hands presses against your back, pinning your front against the flour-covered surface beneath you, his other one holding tightly onto your hips to help you meet the movements of his hips. His eyes are glued to where you're connected, intensely watching the way he disappears into your creamy cunt over and over again as moans of his name echo around the kitchen.

“So good…” you pant, your breath getting knocked out of you with every thrust, “feels so good.” 

Hot sparks of electricity shoot through you every time his hips slam into yours, your knees feeling like they're about to give in as you try to hold onto something, anything to ground yourself. You don’t want to cum yet, no, not yet, not when you know you can draw this out at least a bit longer. Having Heeseung buried inside you, his cock dragging against your spasming walls, skin slapping against skin — the feeling is absolutely addictive, and you never want it to stop.

Running your hands over the wooden counter in a frenzied search for something to hold onto, Heeseung notices your struggles, your frustrations of wanting to grip something but not finding anything. He runs his hand up your back, dragging it over your shoulder and down your arm until he reaches your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, your digits instantly closing around his and squeezing tightly.

"Doing so well for me, baby, just a bit longer and you can cum, alright?"

You hum in reply, not capable of forming any words. All you can do is moan out a gibberish mess, your pussy clenching tightly around your boyfriend's cock with every movement of his hips. For just a moment, he slows down his hips, detaching his hand from your hips to reach down and grab onto your knee, raising it up to rest on the countertop to give him more space to move.

Heeseung can’t do anything about his pre-cum that steadily drools out of his cock, forming a white ring around the bottom of himself, creaming up your lips. Holding onto his arm, he fucks you like an animal in heat. You can’t even form a coherent thought, only a jumbled mess spilling from your mouth as your body lights up from the irresistible pleasure, feeling so full and so wet around him as he pounds his veiny cock into you from behind, fucking you against the kitchen counter. Usually he takes his time: he's gentle with you and draws out the act for as long as possible, prolonging the pleasure for hours at times, so this feels like a complete contrast to what you're used to — not that you're complaining.

Your knees wobble, feeling like jelly as you approach your high at dizzying speed — Heeseung knows this, feeling the way your walls start clamping down around him, and with more willpower than he thought he possessed, he moves you off his cock, a needy whine falling from your lips at the empty feeling he leaves behind, which is met with another light slap against your ass. 

"Turn around, baby. I need to see your face when I fuck you," he utters his explanation, hands on your shoulders helping you turn around.

Your legs shake as you face your boyfriend, the darkness of his usually bright eyes startling you, clenching around nothing as a heavy knot forms in the pit of your stomach. You hopelessly try to suppress the moan that's trying to slip past your lips, without avail, a desperate whine echoing in the back of your throat.

Heeseung coos at your greed, helping you onto the counter just to wrap your legs around his waist. With a strong hand he hikes your thigh higher and higher until your knee hangs in the crook of his arm, allowing him more access to your dripping center. Running his tip through your sopping folds, he teasingly bumps against your clit, your legs tightening around him to pull him closer.

"Please," you sob, your hands crawling at his back to urge him to please, please, please push back into you, continue to fuck you, to make you cum.

He gives in quicker than you thought, thrusting back into you in one fluid movement and filling you up to the brim. His movements pick up almost instantly, hips snapping against yours as you can do nothing but hold onto his shoulders and wait for your high to crash over you.

“Doing so well, baby, letting me fuck you right here in the middle of our kitchen, use this pretty cunt until it's all filled up, huh?"

You let out a moan at his groaned words, your walls clench rapidly around Heeseung as he continues ramming into you, the tip of his dick hitting that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes, and your moan echoes through the room. Your hand on his back moves around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, chest to chest, face pressing into his neck. Your soft whimpers in his ear are about to send him over the edge until he feels your teeth scrape against the soft flesh of his earlobe. There's no way in hell that he could hold back any longer. 

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you breathily moan, “Heeseung, make me cum… please!”

Sinful whines of his name fall from your mouth, repeating like some sort of lust-filled mantra as your walls pulse around him, sucking him and causing him to lose all of his composure — not that much of it was left. Throwing his head forward, he lets it fall into the crook of your neck, his breath brushing against your sweaty skin and drawing goosebumps from you as his body shudders. The thought of having him cum inside you spurs you on even more, your chest rising rapidly as your legs twitch around his hips. Having him cum inside you — even though it happened less often than you'd like — had always been one of your favorite things about sex with Heeseung. Carrying his cum around in you all day or falling asleep with it seeping out of you and ruining your underwear just for him to shove it back inside of you the next morning. He brought out the filthy, the absolutely shameless side of you only reserved for him and no previous partner ever got to see.

"Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock, baby?" he pants out, the grip on your hips tightening.

His fingers dig into your skin, his nails biting into your flesh like cold winter winds. The pain only heightens your pleasure, each thrust bringing you closer to your anticipated release. Heeseung can feel your walls fluttering around him as you're drawing closer and closer to the edge, him following close behind. He lets one of his hands move in between your buzzing bodies, a loud moan tumbling past your lips as his fingers come in contact with your swollen clit. Lightly he circles his fingertips over the bundle, shocks of bliss crashing into you wave after wave as the knot inside you finally snaps. 

Your body spasms as you continuously cry out his name, hopelessly trying to muffle your sobs by pressing your face against his shoulder. Too preoccupied with your own orgasm, you barely register his twitching cock inside you; it’s only when you feel the hot telltales of his cum inside of you that you know you pulled him into the deep trenches of ecstasy together with you. With a loud groan, he empties himself inside of you, spurts of his cum painting your walls white. You moan at the sensation, secretly hoping it would never stop.

Carefully, Heeseung moves your head off his shoulder by tugging gently on your hair as he buries his fingers into it at the nape of your neck, letting your foreheads fall against each other, both of you reduced to pants and gasps, desperately trying to catch your breaths. You let your hands glide over his damp clothes, wanting to feel him right here with you. Your boyfriend leans forward to give you a quick kiss before slowly pulling out of you, gasping softly at the emptiness he's leaving behind.

"Look at you, such a messy baby," he teases as he pulls his pants up and over his hips, causing you to look down at yourself.

And indeed, you're covered in flour and, as you hop off the counter, you can feel Heeseung's thick cum leaking from your abused pussy, the sensation causing you to twitch in a mixture of uncomfortableness and neediness, wanting his juices to stay inside you and for him to fill you up again and again. 

"Heeseung...you made such a mess out of me," you whine as he helps you into your underwear, the cotton fabric instantly getting ruined by your mixed cum. 

His hand smacks down onto the flesh of your ass again, the sensation together with another wave of his cum spilling out of you resulting in you whimpering while shooting a glare in your boyfriend's direction, "Don't be like that, I know you're enjoying this."

Heeseung presses a kiss against your temple, smiling at you and silently asking if you were okay with a raise of his eyebrows — words not needed for the inaudible conversation happening between the two of you. You nod your head in reply, smoothing down your skirt and running your hands over the front of your top in hopes of getting rid of most of the flour stuck to the fabric.

"You got something...right here," Heeseung quietly says, resting his hand on your cheek to wipe his thumb over your skin, earning a thankful smile from you in return even though you could mentally see more flour sprinkled in your hair, "What do you say? We get cleaned up a bit and have some more fun elsewhere?"

His voice drops an octave at the suggestions, head leaning forward to have his lips nip at the skin of your neck again. You turn your face away, leaning back to look at your boyfriend, an almost childlike grin on his lips.

"You're insatiable."

He laughs at that, arms tightening around your middle as he pulls you slightly closer, "Yeah, yeah, but you love it."

You're left to roll your eyes at your boyfriend, not even bothering to disagree with him since both of you knew he was right with his statement — of course he was. And you both know you would never be able to resist him, no matter how hard you tried.

©sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘, 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ! ❞

❝ HONESTLY, I CAN'T BELIEVE I GET TO CALL YOU MINE !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor! suguru geto x reader

✧ summary: it's your first valentine's day as a couple with suguru, but he's away for a conference in another city -- and you understand you do, but you can't help but miss him -- so what happens when he ends up surprising you?

✧ warnings: so fluffy!!, suggestive, mentions of nsfw, implications of smut, reader has graduated from her program, set after the events of the main series (including every part), these two idiots are so in love its ridiculous, lingerie mention, wearing his glasses and button down

✧ wc: 1,206

“I’m sorry I have to be away,” you smile at Suguru through the screen, knowing that you’d kiss his furrowed brow away if he was here, before finding his lips with yours. “This conference was last minute, I wish I didn’t have to go, but Yaga left me little choice but to go,” 

You shake your head, “We can celebrate when you come back, it’s not a big deal anyway. Just means you have more to make up for on White Day,” you tease, and he laughs, a smile on his lips for the first time the entire call, “don’t worry ok? I’m really not upset,” 

“I know, it’s just our first Valentines together and I know you had planned something for us. I really wanted it to be special,” his lips purse, arms crossed as he looks almost utterly hopeless (far too cute) and you can’t help but chuckle, “what?” 

“Never thought my hardass professor could be such a romantic,” you smirk, as his cheeks are tinted with a lovely red, “should I be giving you a poor grade for your tardiness?” 

He rolls his eyes, as his lips curl again in a smile that can’t seem to escape your presence, “Well, while I’ll definitely be making it up with some extra credit, I’d appreciate my favorite student to cut me a little slack,” 

“I recall you cutting me very little slack that first day,” 

“On the contrary, I think I was very kind, especially considering you were late to the very first class—“ 

“And what is this weekend?” You say in mock thought, “our first Valentine’s Day?” He huffs, and you smile in victory, “is this the first headache I’ve given you?” 

“Today? Yes,” and you gape at him, and it’s his turn to smirk, “I love you,” 

And your gaze grows soft, “I love you too, call me after the conference is done for today?” 

“You know I will,” and you both share your goodbyes and you’re left by yourself, as you lay back on your bed, a pout on your lips. Suguru had offered to let you stay at his place, but you know it would have only made you miss him more — being surrounded by his things, his scent, his clothes. You sighed as you buried your face in your pillow, glancing at the picture the two of you had taken in Kyoto at one of the local shrines, almost taunting you. 

He’d be back soon enough — right? 

Sorry I haven’t been able to call again. It’s been a lot of late nights — too many networking dinners. I’ll call you tonight. 

It has been two nights now, and it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow. You had barely gotten a minute to speak to Suguru since your call with him on Friday. You sighed, sending him a picture of you in his button up you stole, along with his spare glasses he had left at your place, can we have a networking meeting? I’ll send an invite to your calendar. 

I’ll clear my schedule. You smile. 

Another message, as soon as I get back. 

You pout, you expected as much — you shouldn’t have dated such an indemand academic. The horrors of academia. 

You laid back, forearm over your forehead as you stare back at your blank ceiling. It was fine, you really understood that he was busy, but you just — turning on your side to stare at his smiling face in the framed image on your bedside table before your eyes flutter shut — missed him. 

You stir awake to lips pressed at your neck, soft kisses that draw you from the heavy arms of sleep, as your eyes flutter open to see Suguru, at your side. 

“Sugu?” And his fingers trace your jaw, as your brow furrows in confusion, “but isn’t it—“ 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind him — an arrangement of your favorites, as you blink, brain seemingly struggling to keep up, “you okay?” 

Your fingers find his cheek, “is this a dream?” And he chuckles, as he leans down to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, before his fingers lightly pinch your cheek. And you’re sitting up only to jump into his arms, a gasp on his lips, as he chuckles, arms curling around you, raking his fingers through your hair. The bouquet lays forgotten on the side because truly the best gift was in your arms. 

“I missed you too,” he chuckles, as you bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent, as if he’d disappear any second. 

You lean back to look up at him, “What are you doing back early?” 

“Made a deal with Yaga that I’d go to all the networking events he wanted, if he let me leave last night,” he kisses your forehead, “surprised?” 

“I am, the best surprise,” you find his lips in another kiss, “I was fine with you being busy, but I just missed you so much. It reminded me of all the time we had to spend apart — and I just know I can’t spend another minute without you,” you bite your lip, “I was going to wait until the end of the night, but,” you bite your lip, “I know we discussed moving in before — and I think I’m ready to,” 

He blinks, before a smile breaks out on his lips, “Are you sure?” And you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips sliding against his, as your hands slide back to cup his cheeks. 

You part, barely a breath apart, as you press your forehead against his, “Never been more sure of anything in my life — it’s definitely owed to us now, don’t you think?” 

He snorts, his eyes shining, as he presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, “Should we start looking for a place now?” And you grin, as you climb into his lap, a tilt of your head. 

“Don’t you want your Valentine’s Day gift?” You ghost kisses along his jawline, drawing a gasp from his lips, your hands guiding his own under his shirt you had stolen, “I had worn it last night just to try it on, but now,” you undo a few buttons of his shirt, a hint of red lace peeking through the undone collar. 

His clothed cock twitches through his slacks, as his fingers pull yours away, to undo the last remaining buttons to show a red and pink lingerie set — red lace hugged the outline of body with red hearts dotting along the design, sheer blush fabric left barely anything of your breasts and cunt to the imagination — not that he needed to imagine — he had practically memorized every curve and corner of your body. 

“Well?” And his fingers pull his shirt off of your body, as he’s gotten you pinned to the bed, as you giggle, lips parted, “I also baked you some sweet treats, baby,” 

His lips curl, as he leans down to meet your lips, as his breath warms your lips and his words warm your heart, “There’s only one sweet thing I want, right now.” 

The two of you never did get around to looking for a place together — not until the next day. 

✧ a/n: this was supposed to come out earlier, but i fell asleep because i slept badly last night and ended up reading a manhwa when i got tired of trying to sleep. wrote this fic listening to laufey's valentine :) i also didn't tag everyone since this was kind of a last minute thing - sorry guys <;3

✧ taglist: @spider-fan72, @grunge-mo0n, @ameri-blog, @kentocalls, @peachyminx, @forest-fruits-jam, @hanxyy, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunflowmaryam, @regrettinglifechoices, @sugurus-fave-monkey, @atomicbxtch, @shinylightsalad

[mintfullyyours]

something blue

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

I'd originally written this as a multi-chap fic so this is what I have so far. Thank you so much for reading!! I really appreciate and love talking to everyone about the 141! authors here are so talented and feed me in every way that I'm grateful to have this creative outlet too.

AnYWAY!!! LMK what y'all think.

Other Simon pics for your consideration: amnesiac!simon part 1, amnesiac!simon part 2-ish, patching up exhusband!simon, ex-husband!simon part 2, to give a dog a bone (aka saving simon once),

"Baby, listen, I needed a break so I could do some... soul-searching."

You pressed your phone to your ear, weaving through the crowd as you descended the escalator toward baggage claim. "And soul-searching had to happen between your assistant's legs?"

"It was one time," James sighed, exasperation laced in his voice.

"Right. And that makes it better somehow?" You scoffed, adjusting the duffle bag slipping off your shoulder. "Listen, James, I have to go. It’s my sister's wedding week, and I’m really looking forward to explaining to my entire family why my cheating ex won’t be in attendance—for obvious reasons."

Too focused on maneuvering through the sea of travelers, you didn’t notice the hulking figure in your path until you collided—shouldering a body that felt like solid stone. A shock shot through you, something sharp and electric, like static but deeper, rippling under your skin.

"Shit—sorry," you mumbled, barely sparing the man a glance. But even in that fleeting moment, there was something about him. The sheer size of him, the weight of his gaze, the way he felt — like gravity had shifted just for him.

A grunt emanated from his lips. You shook your head and darted away from him – not wanting to deal with the locals and refocused your attention on the carousel.

“Baby, I—”

"Nope. Goodbye." You hung up mid-protest and exhaled, exasperated. The last thing you needed was James’ voice in your ear ruining the little bit of peace you had left.

The conveyor belt whirred to life and your simple black suitcase rolled into view. You grabbed it swiftly, eager to put distance between you and the airport chaos, already exhausted by the week ahead. You just needed a hot shower, a drink, and a moment to forget your disaster of a love life.

Unbeknownst to you, across the baggage claim, a towering man in a black hoodie with a camouflage print duffle bag was staring down at a suitcase identical to yours.

Simon Riley’s brow furrowed beneath his mask as he realized his luggage was missing.

At your hotel room, you finally picked up your mother’s call—something you’d been avoiding all night.

“You’re coming for... As the Brits would say afternoon tea tomorrow, right?” she asked, her voice chipper and expectant. “Your sister’s future in-laws will be there too.”

“Yeah, of course, Mom,” you mumbled, shutting the curtains to your room.

“Oh, good! Wear the pink dress I bought you then.” You shuddered at the thought of wearing something so fluffy. “And you brought your sister’s baby pictures?”

You plopped onto the floor, suitcase in front of you, already unzipping it. “Yes, they’re in my lugga—”

Your words cut off as the sight before you sank in.

This… wasn’t your luggage.

“What the fuck…” you mumbled, sifting through the unfamiliar belongings. Your mother tsked on the other end. “Language.”

“Sorry, uh—yeah. I brought them,” you said absentmindedly, but panic had already started to settle in. Your suitcase could be anywhere by now. You were so screwed.

Your fingers frantically dug into the foreign clothing, pulling out neatly folded black shirts—all black, heavy-duty material, the kind that felt expensive but built for function. Then came the cargo pants, thick straps and buckles lining the sides. You lifted a jacket that looked like it weighed more than you, feeling the sheer size of it, like it belonged to a man carved from stone.

And then—your fingers brushed against something different.

Thick. Stiff. Worn.

You pulled it out, expecting a belt or gloves—only to be met with the hollow, gaping eyes of a skull mask.

A chill ran down your spine.

The material was sturdy, molded for durability, not for show. The kind of thing that didn’t belong in civilian luggage.

A weight settled in your stomach, but before you could even process it, your fingers brushed against another.

And then another.

Your pulse spiked as you pulled them free—three, four—each identical, yet different. Some had cracks along the bone-white surface, others bore deep scuffs, dark smudges, like they’d been through hell. One of them had what looked like dried blood staining the lower jaw.

Your mind raced. What the hell kind of person needed multiple skull masks? Your throat went dry. Was he some kind of serial killer? A mercenary? A complete fucking psycho? Why the hell did you have this bag?

“Also, did James arrive with you?”

Your mother’s voice cut through the silence. Another muttered fuck under your breath. “Who? Sorry, yeah, Mom… about that.”

“Is that Sissy?” a voice chirped in the background. “Gimme, gimme — hello?”

Your sister’s voice replaced your mother’s, bright and teasing. She was always so much better at this, at life, than you. 

“Heyyy,” you said, forcing lightness into your tone, “I’m excited to see you tomorrow!”

“Ugh, same. Save me from the mom-sanity,” she giggled. “You’re bringing James, right? I’m dying to meet the guy!”

Your fingers traced the luggage lining, searching—praying—for some kind of identification. Then, finally, you found it. A small leather name tag, embossed with a name and phone number.

Without thinking, without breathing, you word-vomited the first name you saw. “Did I say James? Because I meant… Simon.”

A pause. Well you were committed to the bit now. 

“...Simon Riley.”

The name sat heavy in the air, and your fingers tightened around the mask still in your lap.

You didn’t know who Simon Riley was. But for now that didn’t matter. The name sat heavy between you and your sister, stretching the air thin. Your sister broke the silence first, “Okay… I guess I have time to change the seating card but really sissy, you have to tell me these things sooner. And Simon's your boyfriend, right?”

She asked and then, a vibration.

Your head snapped to your phone screen.

UNKNOWN CALLER.

You chose to ignore it, "Yes, I'm with Simon. Been almost a year now." The lie came easily because what else could you have said?

Then another vibration.

This time, a text.

A single message.

“Wrong bag, love. But you already knew that.”

A chill shot down your spine with skull masks staring up at you. You gulped and hung up the phone after you reassured your sister you'd be there tomorrow. This was going to be a long night.

Now you and Simon Riley had never met before. Not properly, anyway.

The first time he knew you existed was because of a simple mix-up at the baggage claim. Nothing special. Nothing deliberate. Just a wrong bag taken by the wrong person at the worst possible time.

And yet—

The moment he unzipped your suitcase, his entire world tilted.

Your scent was the first thing that hit him. Something warm, something sweet. Not perfume—no, it was deeper than that. Skin and shampoo and you. He could smell it on the soft sweater tucked inside, the delicate pink lace of something he shouldn’t be touching, but he does anyway.

Then, there was the red floor-length dress.

The dress that, for some fucking reason, he couldn't stop staring at.

His fingers flexed around the fabric, his mind already playing tricks on him—How would it fit? Would it hug her just right? Would it be easy to pull up, to push aside—

His jaw clenched.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

But then there were the other things—small, delicate things that told him more about you than a conversation ever could. The book tucked into the side pocket. The neatly folded socks. The half-used lipstick that made his pulse tick in his throat.

What would that color look like staining the skin around his cock?

And that was when he knew.

Knew he had to see you.

He thanked the Universe for the handy contact information on your luggage tag and reached for his phone.

It wasn't about the luggage anymore.

It was about you.

Tag list

@ebodebo @meheheasasa @thegirlintheshadows101 @galactict3a @star-buck-barnes @synamonthy @vylaris @vvenus-child @negomisan @heretoreadanddrinktea @mocalocha @icommitwarcrimes @readingcatinacorner @just-lilita @blackhawkfanatic @kristalhi

[ozzgin]

Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff

Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats

Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea

[Main Story] | [General Headcanons]

Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.

"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.

"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."

"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"

The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.

"I see. That's good."

"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."

"That's good."

Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.

"You okay?"

Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.

They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.

The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.

The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.

***

You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.

It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”

You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.

“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.

He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”

You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.

“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.

Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.

To hell with it.

“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”

“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.

“N-no?”

“Would you mind staying over?”

“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.

“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.

He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.

“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”

Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.

“What wrong idea?”

Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.

“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.

“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.

The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.

“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”

You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.

“I’m dead serious.”

He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.

“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.

Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.

As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.

“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”

“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.

He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.

“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”

You nod erratically.

The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.

“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”

He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.

“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.

In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.

Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.

***

“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”

You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.

“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”

The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.

Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.

“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”

“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”

“What?” You ask, baffled.

“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.

“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”

He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.

“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”

From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.

His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.

“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”

You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.

“Go ahead.” You finally confess.

He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.

One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.

“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”

He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.

“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”

You glare at him, feverish.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”

Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”

Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.

“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”

“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”

Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.

“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.

His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.

“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”

“I’m just…” your words trail off.

“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”

Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He sighs loudly.

“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”

Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.

“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”

“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.