#but then the day after Valentine’s Day I somehow came across it & thought

[hwavsg4ch4n]

Awkward|| L.M

Note: hi guys, this is actually a music series (more info linked) bonus. I usually write multiple versions of a smut per song and choose which one fits the vibe the most. this one was actually supposed to be for SYNERGY (linked), but I reworked it and made it better for "Awkward". I haven't been here for a while and decided that I'm the kind of writer that likes to pop in randomly lol. I'm thinking about turning this into a mini-series separate from the music series. After you read this, please follow the link at the end and vote on the pole if you think this would be a good mini-series! ps. word count of 4,783... get a snack.

Disclaimer: I have decided not to no longer put any tags in my works to avoid unneeded spoilers. I will only warn when there are extremely triggering aspects in my work. Read at your own discretion.

Synopsis: You've been single for years, it's sad really. coming up with excuse after excuse as to why you should be okay. Then society introduced the appearance of 'soulmates', and somehow everything got worse. But then there's your boss, what should you do with him...

this is a mature work of fiction (18+), this does not represent any real-life figures, this is just for entertainment.

Music series bonus <masterlist>

You tilted your head back, gulping down the rich red wine as the brisk night air glided across your naked arms.

What was love? It was stupid, at least that’s what you always told yourself. Love is dumb, for the weak; and you weren’t weak. You wished you believed your thoughts, but you couldn’t help but crave love. What it felt like, sounded like, what it smelled like, what it tasted like. 

Jealousy was a disease and you hated to admit that you were practically hospitalized and in a coma from said disease. 

However, solidarity was alright sometimes. It was rewarding, no arguments, no having to worry what your partner was up to if they were taking care of themselves properly. You only had to worry about yourself… is it bad that was your biggest con to single life? Only having to worry about yourself.

You told yourself this for years. That was until early last year, when the CDC came out with a new phenomenon. They called it, soulmates. You thought it was corny. You watched as scientists explained the symptoms, and how it starts. How it feels, how you can differentiate your feelings blah blah blah, it was bullshit in your eyes. But not many felt the same. 

The day after the news of soulmates reached the public, your office became littered with pairings. Mia from accounting and Felix in your branding apartment paired up instantly. Everyone saw that one coming. They were frauds, had to be, the CDC said their research is still new, meaning they’ll need long-term volunteers that they’ll compensate. That's when fake soulmates started appearing. You called bullshit when the news stated authentic soulmates are now being deemed rare. The CDC just wanted to cover its tracks, hiding another economic decline. Soulmates weren’t real.

Your loneliness grew worse because of your slight rebellion. You didn’t put yourself out there, scared someone would falsely claim you as a soulmate. It’s nights like this where you want to let yourself fall in line. Here you are, alone at the Valentine’s Day company party for another year, this time due to self-sabotage. You already hated this holiday, but of course, science had to make it worse. On the balcony sipping expensive wine your boss bought for everyone, you tried your best to drown out the jazz music and giggles as coworkers showed off their engagement rings.

Minho watched you through the glass door of the balcony with hesitancy. He tuned out the conversation he was dragged into. “Mr. Lee, what are your opinions on soulmates.” He looked at the second department secretary, taking in her inquiry, “I’m not quite sure.” He was telling the truth, he didn’t think much of it, if it was true great, if it wasn’t, it didn’t really affect him in any way, probably just another pity thing. The marriage statistic was getting low, he read it in a paper. Minho took one more sip from his whiskey glass before setting it down and excusing himself.

Everyone in the office knew that Minho, the COO of this company, took a liking to you; everyone was jealous in fact. The kind, extroverted, unmarried, painfully attractive man… liked you. The seemingly cold, work-a-holic, introvert of a woman. He’s liked you since before the news came forth with their studies, yet you were oblivious. Your self-esteem is so low that you wouldn’t dare to even think a man like Minho would see you in such a way, not when people are trying to claim the bachelor every day. 

You looked over your shoulder as the balcony door opened. You smiled politely, “Mr. Lee, how are you?” You asked gently. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice, not even trying to hide the shivers that trailed down his spine at your tempt voice. “I’m doing well, but I couldn’t help but feel bothered when I saw you out here alone. Are you not cold, Ms. L/n?” You watched as he made his way next to you, leaning against the metal railing. He gazed at the city skyline, awaiting your answer.

You took another sip of wine. “It’s a bit chilly, but I can manage.” Short and simple, polite. That’s all Minho got from you. He's never wanted a person to rant to him for hours so badly, but that would be seen as unprofessional. He clears his throat, standing up straight. “Are you not having fun?” He asked. Maybe it was the wine that compelled you to answer him differently than you normally would. “To be honest, Mr. Lee,” He raised his brows, turning to you fully. “What is it?” You let yourself answer. “I don’t really favor office parties.” You chuckled before downing the last bit of your wine.

Minho frowned before biting his lip. “I hope it’s okay that I call you by your name,” He started, “Sure.” He gulped dryly before giving you an offer. “Would you like to get out of here, y/n?” You finally faced him, brows furrowed as your eyes lingered across his figure, taking him in.

White button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black slacks, dark auburn hair fallen into his eyes, the eyes that were surveying you softly. It would be strange, to ride off into the night with your boss on the night the company is rumored to rename the festive party ‘soulmates night'. But you’ve had about 3 full glasses of wine, and you’re bored plus inquisitive.

“Where would we be going?”, he smiles.

After bidding an awkward goodbye to your coworkers, and avoiding questioning looks about the two of you leaving together; you finally made it to Minho’s car.  

“Wanna catch a late movie?” Your head tilted in question, he drove out of the parking lot the humming of the engine fills the silence. Smirking to yourself in disbelief, you agreed. 

The ride was filled with conversation, the longest non-work related conversation you’ve had with this man. He spoke of everything you didn’t think he’d speak of. How he missed home, how living in a bustling city was fun, but the sound of waves beat the sound of honking horns. You couldn’t help but ask him questions, you didn’t care if they were the right questions. You were comfortable, too comfortable. Was it the wine you downed? Maybe the grand looking air freshener in his car. It hurts your pride to admit that it might just be him. He smelled nice and spoke to you gently in that voice he would use to remind you of your lunch hour. 

You took in a breath as his hands on the steering wheel came into view, “Oh sweet jesus”. You pressed yourself into the black leather seat. It’s the wine, it has to be the wine. Minho turned to you as he finished parking, “You ready?” 

-

No one was there in the theater, no one but the two of you. You couldn’t focus on the movie, all you could focus on was how you were alone with Minho, completely alone with him. 

You were zoned out until you were pulled back to reality. “Are you enjoying the movie?” He whispered, not looking in your direction, his eyes glued to the projected screen. You couldn’t help but ask bluntly, “What are we doing?” 

Minho looked at you, you felt his gaze so you looked back. “Mr. Lee, it’s soulmates night.” He frowned, chewing on his popcorn. His heartbeat quickened, were you implying something?

 It was dark, but you could see him like there was the light of a halo above him. “What do you wish we were doing, Y/n?” Why did he ask you that? Why did he ask like he wanted to fulfill a wish?

You looked away, parted lips and furrowed eyebrows. He couldn’t see your face properly, he took your silence as rejection, and maybe he read you wrong. “I don’t mean to upset you, I apologize. Let’s finish the movie, then I’ll take you home?” You didn’t want to finish the movie, you weren’t even watching the boring movie.

Your heart was pounding, was this what proper desire felt like? It felt different from your crush on the Grey’s Anatomy guy. Was this what being wanted felt like? But he’s your boss… You felt a surge of warmth, a shallow buzzing feeling accumulated in your fingertips, must be excitement. Your conscious almost coming alive, fuck it, give in. You did just that.

Biting your lip you breathed in deep, “I don’t want to continue the movie.” You stated in a whisper. You couldn’t see it clearly, but Minho grew worried, worried he scared you off completely.

“Oh- would you like to, would you like for me to take you home now, Miss. L/n?” He didn’t want to use your first name, afraid of abusing his power. It made you flinch, “I thought you said… you were gonna use my name from now on?” You whispered. Finding his eyes in the slim light provided by the screen.

He licked his lips, although it was out of his nervousness, the action made you gulp. “My apologies, Y/n.” you weren’t aware of it yet, but you held all the power at this given moment. He’d do anything you told him to with no question.

“I do want to get out of here, but I don’t want to go home Mr. Lee.” You said, standing up, and grabbing your purse. Minho stood up as well, eyes never leaving your form as he studied you for unspoken answers.

“I would like to see where my boss lives, I’ve always been curious.” your lashes fluttering, as you peered up at him with a quick pulse and sweaty palms. What if you read him wrong, what if he dismissed you and fired you on the spot? What if this whole ordeal was just because he pitied you for being single for every Valentine’s Day party?

“Well, I should let you overcome your curiosity, shouldn’t I Y/n?” He said with amusement. “After you.” He moved out of the way, letting you lead the way out of the theater.

You continuously asked yourself what you were doing on the drive to his house. Well, you knew what you were doing. You were lonely, and tired of it, taking up a messy offer that could end up in you getting scammed by this man. You’ll apologize in the mirror later. Hitting rock bottom was something you would worry about tomorrow. Your hazy mind only lets you think about his veiny hand gripping the gear shift.

What would happen if you took it upon yourself to place him where you wanted him? 

Working up the courage, you sucked in a breath before allowing your fingers to trace his cufflinks, trailing your fingers around his wrist. His fastened pulse boosted your ego, looking to see his reaction. Minho remained focused on the road, with no intention of stopping you as he blinked and took more deep breaths than a calm human would.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you brought his hand to the warm flesh of your warm thigh, just under the hem of your black tweed skirt. Your blood pumped at the thought of how he’s letting you have your way. He wanted this too, to touch you. His hand was warm, and comforting. You liked how pretty it was on your skin, admiring the visual as your nails traced his veins.

Minho didn’t mean to squeeze, he did it subconsciously. He didn’t realize he did it until you gasped shallowly, clenching your thighs around his hand and looking up at him with the lowest gaze he’s ever seen from you.

“Sorry.” He muttered, rubbing his hand along the inside of your thigh in an attempt to soothe, not wanting to get you too worked up just yet. But his touch had the opposite effect. You didn’t want to wait anymore. It was known that Minho’s house was in the rich part of the city, all the way across town. Even Though it was a mere 30 minute drive, the distance felt like an eternity. 

“Minho,” Minho gulped dryly. Your deep tone sent shock waves through his body, he enjoyed how his name dripped off your tongue. “Yes, Y/n?” His voice remained steady, not wanting to ruin something that could get so good. “I want you to pull into the park, I wanna watch the sky with you.” You whispered. Minho’s heart grew soft as you continued to trance his veins. He nodded silently, ready to take every command you asked of him.

You watched as he parked, the view of the city was beautiful, but that wasn’t your focus as of now. 

There was a silence, loud, swallowing the city sounds in the distance. Your body shifted, rotating towards him. Minho turned to you, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly as he took in the view of you. “Kiss me,” Yes you were being blunt, and bold, but you didn’t care. Who cares?

You grinned as Minho pulled you on his lap, his strength not surprising you; considering how his arms looked way too confined in every dress shirt he owned. Your eyes shut as his lips collide with yours. Soft, buttery, warm, so so warm, and buzzing… your lips were buzzing. The feeling of him was clouding your judgment. Minho’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper. Pulling back slightly, he watched as you followed him. Minho smiled, softly chuckling. You opened your heavy lids, growing shy to see his gaze. Your lips parted as he pushed you even closer, rubbing against the growing tent in his slacks, you jolted as your core began to buzz as well. Your lips molded with his once more, and the sounds of what you presumed to be fireworks sounded in the distance.

 His breathing was heavy as you disconnected to catch your breath. Minho’s hands tilted your head to the side slightly, breathing you in softly, lips grazing your skin as you shuttered, your fingers gripping his sleeve. He licked his lips before kissing your collarbone, traveling up your neck, absorbing every gasp you let out. 

You feel his hand slide to the back of your head, angling your face down so his eyes can meet yours as he lays his forehead on yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, y/n.” Your heart panged, searching his eyes for truth. He wanted you, Minho, your boss, wanted you. 

Your hands traced his bottom lip, and you blinked softly, “Take care of me then, yeah?” You whispered. He smiled gently, gripping your jaw and pulling you back. 

The both of you suck in a breath as Minho presses his lips to yours once more, his hand pushing your head impossibly closer. He wanted to feel you, meet with you in ways he’d only imagined. You were letting him give you what he thought was impossible for him. Truthfully, he would’ve liked to ask you out on a proper date. But this would suffice if it was what you wanted from him.

The two of you kissed for a while, gradually feeling and touching each other. Feeling what was never seen. Your body grew warmer, the buzzing centered to your stomach as you bunched up his shirt, wanting to feel his skin bare against yours. “Minho,” It didn’t mean to sound like a plea, “What is it? What do you want me to do?” His voice was breathy, low, needy, and ready to please. You couldn’t get enough. “Off.” You tugged at his collar. Barely even a second later, he began to unbutton his shirt. You wasted no time placing your hands on his sculpted chest once exposed, gulping as you stared at his skin. Absentmindedly gliding your manicured fingers across him.

Minho watched your every move, whimpering as your fingertips flicked his nipples. Your nails left gentle scratches, he licked his lips at the sight. He can’t recall ever wanting someone so badly, to the point he was painfully hard, closing his eyes and throwing his head back at the slightest touches you granted him. 

You wanted his reaction intensively, feeling his twitching member under you as you pinched and rubbed his nipples. His chest rose and fell at a somewhat hurried pace, the tips of his ears grew red, and so did his lips as he couldn’t stop licking and biting at them. It’s not like the action helped keep him quiet. His heavy breathing began to get mixed in with soft whimpers.

You smiled, “Who knew you’d be so sensitive.” You mumbled. “Sorry… uhm. I’m not usually like this.” You grinned at his hushed awkwardness. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” You whispered back, your hands continued tracing the outline of him. One by one you left open kisses on his neck, traveling up behind his ear. You sucked at his warm skin, “I hope the secretary doesn’t see what I’m leaving on you Mr. Lee, I think she might have a crush on you.” You said playfully, smiling against his clammy skin, sucking another bruise. Minho’s hands travel to the bottom of your skirt in response, pulling the fabric to bunch at your waist. He squeezes at your thighs as you find the spot that meets his shoulder and neck, his breath shallows. His hips bucking as you suck and nip at the skin. You were hot to the touch, it heightened the feeling of you on him. 

Minho isn’t sure how you got the one up on him, but he lets your hands wander to the buckle of his belt. He looks up at your face, your eyes full of determination as you swiftly take off his belt, unbuttoning his pants. He can’t help but smirk as he feels heat center in his stomach, “You’ve got me right where you want me y/n,” Your movements slow as you start to push his pants down to his ankles, “You’re the only one who’s ever gotten me like this.” Minho watches you bite your lip as he feeds into your ego. His eyes shoot down as you grasp his erection through his boxers. “Haven’t been this hard in so,” his voice shakes as your grip tightens “So long, fuck baby.” Your lips part at his words, looking up to see his head thrown back at the seat. You tap at his tip, the fabric starting to stick to his precum as you admire the bites you left on his skin. 

“Minho,” You call out softly, he opens his eyes to see you staring at his member. The look in your eyes almost makes him ask if you want him to take over. Your eyes were glazed over, your lips pouty as you tug at his boxers, he smirks slightly. “I’ll get these out your way, sorry baby.” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the use of the pet name again, it feels so good to be called that, the buzzing shoots to your core before centering again. It almost felt like a boost of arousal, you were too enraptured by the man in front of you to care.

Your hands returned to his stiffened member as soon as it sprang free, you felt Minho tense at your touch. You looked up at him as you began to stroke him lightly. His eyes were hooded, he watched your hand quickly become slick with his arousal as you pumped at a careful pace. Minho licked his lips, noticing through his foggy mind how you still remained fully dressed. Your thighs only exposed because he decided to tease just once. Yes, his words earlier were to edge on your performance, but they were true. Minho has never been on the receiving end, he loved giving, if you told him to take over he’d do it gladly. More importantly, his need to please was strong, if pleasing you meant stepping back a bit he’s happy too. However, he didn’t anticipate his sensitivity to your touch. He hears himself whimper as your pumping speeds up, the rising heat traveling down to his member. He jolts as the pleasure intensifies. A hand hovers over your pumping one before holding himself back and placing it back on your thigh.

He’s starting to lose a battle, don’t cum, not yet, she’ll get bored soon and touch you somewhere else, don’t fucking cum. He chanted to himself, one of his hands moved to your ass, gripping as his other kept shelter on your thigh. You watched as he shut his eyes tight, his lips parting as he huffed out puffs of air. You smiled in triumph as he began to shake his head side to side, starting to lose his internal war, “B-baby… y/n, I’m gonna c-cum baby,” His voice was hoarse.

You tilted your head, sliding your pumping up to only his tip. His thighs jolted, his eyes opening as he started to look at you for pity. He only saw you looking at his dick dreamily, the heat in his stomach pulses. He swallows down his need to overcome you, opting to let himself relax.

Minho cursed, he groaned deeply, throwing his head back. His brain started to become unmanageably fuzzy. 

“Y/n.” He whispered, licking his lips.

His smooth thighs flexed.“You’re so good baby,” Your lips parted at his soft whimper.

You grin, slowing down your pumping, giggling as he whimpered trying to fuck your palm the heat causing his tip to pulse. “You like me huh, Minho?” Your words were teasing. You were met with an eager nod. Cooing, you slipped off your underwear. You looked into his brown eyes, just when you thought he let himself surrender fully, he had some fight left in him. 

He gripped your waist, biting his lip as he guided you over his throbbing member. You let him sink you down onto his warmth. You whimpered, Minho watched carefully, looking for signs of you needing him to take over. Only for him to get knocked down again, his brows furrowed as you brace a hand on his blushed chest, beginning to ride him. He stared at your clothed chest, your nipples hard enough for the outline to push past your bra and blouse. With heavy breaths his eyes traveled up your littered neck, finally landing on your blissed face. “Pretty,” He whispered, so soft you barely acknowledged it. His brain was swirling with only the image of you, the smell of you reminding him of a warm cabin.

You looked down at him, giggling at his starry eyes and beads of sweat, you were unaware of the state his mind was in. You were enthralled by the thought of him being so pliant. Never in a million years did you think your boss would be under you with a flushed face and a throbbing dick. You feel his dick pulse as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your hands make their way to his jaw, “Are you holding your cum from me, Mr. Lee?” His member throbs again. Your voice and playful words have him shaking his head, gripping your ass so hard you're sure there will be a mark, it stirs you on. “Want you to... To cu-cum first.” He whispered. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, Minho’s eyes snap open, lifting you off him, and you forget about his strength for just a moment.

You peered down to see his jumping member and quivering thighs, precum leaking and he tried to catch his breath. You didn’t let him, you swatted his hold away, ignoring his groan as you seethed him back into your warm hole. “Ah, fuck I can’t hold it, baby.” He rasped out, listening to how wet you were. You didn’t answer him, tuning out his winning, starting to chase your own high that's been building up while watching him. The buzzing started to spread. You gripped his shoulders, pushing yourself closer to him. Minho’s hand placed itself on your sweaty back, bracing himself. His other hand slid down to your thigh, grazing where he was buried into you. His grip tightened, spreading your slick puffy lips slightly. “Min, that's so good.” You whimpered. He hummed, burying his head into your neck. He shifted, widening his legs the best he could, and started to meet your thrusts. 

Your mouth formed an O, tears forming in your eyes as he hit the gummy spot you never reached on your own. Before you knew it your body began to go numb from the pleasure, the buzzing reached every inch of you in what felt like a millisecond. Minho felt your muscles detense, he whimpered as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He chuckled tiredly at the sound of your babbling. You finally needed him, you were close and god knows he is too. He fucked into you like you’ve unlocked a different part of him. 

“Gonna c-cum min.” You whimpered, “I know baby, I Know.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, feeling his self control finally coming to an end. He grunts, taking a hand and reaching between your radiating bodies. You moan so loud you're sure any late night hikers would be able to hear you. Your thighs shake as if it feels you’re physically experiencing the color red, the buzzing now being heard in your ears, distracting you from your release covering his thighs as yours shake. Minho grunts before he bites down on your shoulder, seeing sparks of deep green as he squeezes his eyes shut, spilling himself into you as he starts to hear crackles of fire. 

When you close your eyes you're met with the visions of the man that’s under you. Images of his life, his milestones,  you feel what he felt all in the blink of an eye. The images seize, and you’re yanked out of the dreamy state, catching your breath. You gulp, slowly facing him. His eyes meet yours, “Did you see that?” he whispered. You nodded, your fingertips still buzzing. “I-is this that soulmate thing?” his voice slightly above a murmur. Your body tensed, “What?” He looked into your eyes, he could almost feel your fear, “U-uh nothing.” He lifted you off him gently, ignoring what the sight of his release dripping from you did to him. Minho watched as you straightened yourself out in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes glanced at the foggy windows before returning to your now tense form.

Were you his… soulmate? He thought it was just a speculation that scientists made up to give the single population hope. He cleared his throat, putting his softening member back into his boxers, and lifting his pants up. “I’ll, uhm… I’ll drive you home.” Minho licks his lips nervously as he puts on his wrinkled button down. He looked at the time on his watch, 12:57am. He moves to turn on the engine. 

“You believe them?” Minho glanced your way, taking in your question. “Do you believe what they say on the news?” He blinked, thinking of a proper answer as he started to drive out of the parking lot. “I mean,” He turned to enter the freeway. “If it’s on the news, there has to be some truth.” You took in his words, rolling down the window. “Y/n, the… symptoms that they described, that’s what just happened.” You frowned, looking out the window taking in his words. “I saw you, your middle school graduation,” you glower at him, his eyes were on the road, only glancing at you briefly. “I saw your first, and only relationship…” He paused, seeing your hands clasp together nervously out of the corner of his eye. He changed the topic, “When I… finished, I saw green, a forest green. And I heard fire, like a campfire.” 

You gazed at his side profile. Without a word, you looked forward. You gave him the directions to your apartment.

As he pulled into your driveway, you grabbed your purse putting it on your shoulder. Minho said nothing when you opened the door as soon as he came to a stop, not even giving him a chance to put the car in park. You stepped out, your heels clacking on the pavement. You took in a deep breath before bending down, coming into his view again. You looked at his longing eyes, waiting for you to say anything to grant him peace of mind. “I’ll see you on Monday Mr. Lee.” With that, you closed his door. Gulping down anxiety as you steadily walk to the entrance of your apartment.

-

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#skz smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #Spotify

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

A first (very insecure) Valentine's

It's Natasha's first Valentine's Day with her girlfriend, and she struggles more with the concept of love and romance than she feared.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!OC (Katya Petrova) (the ''Forgotten Ghost'' series) Wordcount: 3.9k No warnings (except maybe Natasha being adorably helpless at love)

A/N: here to make your Valentine's Day a bit less miserable: our two favorite murder wives :)

The door of Clint's room had never looked more intimidating than on this Monday night, in the empty, dark hallways of SHIELD HQ. Everyone who lived on base had gone to find their beds, exhausted from the busy workday. But Natasha knew her best friend was still awake by the faint light coming from under his door.

Had she known that love was this embarrassing, she would have thought twice before letting Katya back into her life. Simply the thought of what she came down here to ask made her want to scratch her skin off. It was a completely new feeling that she struggled to get a grip on. This whole 'in love' thing really messed with her mind and body.

Every time she heard or read her girlfriend's name, saw her in the hallways or the cafeteria, or simply thought about her in the middle of a boring briefing, her head got fuzzy and the world faded away. All her thoughts would get consumed by Katya until she was mentally on cloud nine and felt warm all over. 

It was a very odd development for a woman who never lost focus. Last week, Maria chucked a file at her head when she'd zoned out once again in the middle of their conversation.

It was embarrassing. People teased her about it—especially Fury. If he made one more joke about her keeping her head on her neck and not in the clouds, she was going to cut his off his body. The last thing she needed was other agents taking after him and realizing she had a heart. She still struggled to accept her soft side.

"Are you gonna come in, or do I have to bring a pillow and a blanket out while you think about it?"

Once more, Natasha pulled her thoughts back to the here and now, her cheeks flushing red. She had no other choice but to push the door handle down and sheepishly step into Clint's room, closing the door behind her. What was happening to her? She used to be so confident and unbothered all the time.

Clint didn't look up from his spot on the couch, buried in manilla-colored files and papers, an empty pizza box on the floor. His apartment represented his mind. Cluttered, unorganized, yet somehow cozy. If Laura saw him like this, she'd scold him for his unhealthy lifestyle.

"What relationship question do you have for me today?" He asked casually, scribbling something in a notebook. When Natasha stayed silent, he looked up, chuckling at her expression. "Come on. If this was about work, you would have barged in like you own the place."

Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, looking at the horrible handwriting in his notebook instead of his face. It was difficult enough to get the words out of her throat. "The fourteenth, how serious do people take it?" 

Clint was too taken aback by the question to form an immediate answer, leaving her to cringe in the short silence that followed. The nail of her thumb painfully scratched at the nail bed of her pointer finger.

"You mean Valentine's Day?" Amusement flashed briefly across his eyes, but he was too considerate of her struggle with herself to tease her about the way she worded her question. He closed the folder in his lap, straightening his hunched back. "It really depends. Some people think it's just capitalism bullshit, but most people like showing their loved ones some extra love anyway."

Natasha definitely considered herself a hater of Valentine's Day, of capitalism and money-hungry companies in general. But it wasn't about her, was it? "Do you give Laura something?"

"Flowers. Every year." Clint's face lit up at the mention of his partner. "She says she doesn't want anything, but that's the least I can do. And I try to be home if I can." He tilted his head. "Do you plan on giving Katya something?"

Natasha shrugged. "I don't know if she cares about stupid holidays," she mumbled, prodding the linoleum underneath her feet with the heel of her boot. Why was a relationship so hard?

"I can feel her out for you?" Clint offered kindly, but she immediately shook her head. 

"She'll know." And Katya knowing that she asked Clint for advice was even more embarrassing.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Well, if she says something, I'll let you know." Natasha sent him a thankful nod, reaching for the door handle behind her, but Clint wasn't done yet. "But between you and me, I think she'll really love any gesture from you."

"Thanks."

She left his room feeling only a tad bit better. Clint's advice wasn't really useful and gave her no insight on what Katya would prefer, but it helped to know that even he participated in the holiday. And that said something, given he wasn't the most romantic person she knew.

As she walked back to her own room, Natasha once again wrecked her brain for everything she knew about Valentine's Day, but she didn't get much further than it being a red and pink color vomit with hearts everywhere. Flowers, cards, chocolates, that she also knew. But her knowledge stopped there.

Every year when the day came around, and the stores started to fill up with the nauseatingly sweet colors, she went out of her way to avoid it. Hating it was easier than digging into her soul to figure out why she hated it so much. 

Anyone talked about Valentine's Day? She pulled a grossed-out face. A love song came on the radio? She turned it off.

Now, for the first time in her life, she was forced to face it head on, and she was at an absolute loss.

What did people do on Valentine's Day? What was considered a good gift? What would Katya like to receive? 

She really loved the roses Natasha brought her for their first date, but the redhead hadn't given her anything beyond that that could indicate her preferences.

Natasha's face paled, a nauseating feeling of failure rising in her throat as she stopped in her tracks. Should she have gotten her girlfriend more gifts in the past months? Her heart started to race. Had Katya been waiting on something to follow the roses?

Oh god, Natasha knew she wasn't up for this. She was doing this all wrong. Her romantic instincts took much longer to resurface than she thought they would. And even worse, what if they were gone, forced out of her at a young age? What if she would never get that natural feel for romantic things? 

She didn't even know if it was customary to get your partner gifts often. Every week, every two weeks, every month? She thought that gifts were only for milestones, and birthdays, and the occasional holiday. Never did she stop to think that she could give Katya presents on random moments, just to be sweet. What dumb, inexperienced idiot didn't know that?

Her thoughts were spiraling. 

Twice as fast now, Natasha legged it back to her room, stopping herself from frustratingly slamming the door behind her. 

She needed to calm herself down, taking deep breaths to ease the anxiety as she paced back and forth in her room, the one next to the woman ruining her nights. Valentine's Day was supposed to be fun, exciting, an opportunity to spoil her girlfriend as she deserved.

Shaking out her arms, Natasha pondered what she could get Katya, what she should do, determined to make up for her lack of romance. Flowers were nice, but that was too simple and repetitive. Chocolates were too cliché, and Natasha would rather throw up than write something romantic in a card only to have Katya read it in front of her. Maybe someday.

As her feet wore out a path in the floor, she knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't stop. The fear of doing something wrong, of losing this fragile thing they'd built over the last few months was strong. It was the best thing in her life, and if she lost it, Natasha already knew she wouldn't be able to go on. 

So lost in thought—once again—she almost missed the sound of her phone. Absent-mindedly, her hand fumbled for the device in her pocket, expecting a SHIELD message or an email. Instead, her heart skipped a beat at the name displayed on screen.

Katya: Go to sleep.

Katya: I can hear you pacing.

Katya: Do you want to get something off your chest?

Yes. Natasha had several things to get off her chest, in fact. A million. But Katya was also the reason those things were there. 

She wanted to crawl into her girlfriend's arms and put it all out there. She wanted to be reassured until all those worries floated out of her head, leaving only silence behind, the kind of peaceful silence only Katya could give her. She wanted to just exist in her embrace for a while.

The yearning caught her so off-guard that it took her a second to answer the texts. It was only lately that she'd started to crave physical affection, and it seemed her body was trying to catch up on all the years she didn't have it.

Natasha: I'm alright. Thank you.

Natasha: Go to sleep yourself.

Katya: Can't. Some idiot is pacing next door and it's keeping me awake.

A genuine smile broke through her frown. She'd been doing that so much more often. Smiling, laughing. Natasha didn't even remember the last time she genuinely laughed at something before Katya came around.

She deserved something on Valentine's Day, Natasha decided. But what?

Grabbing her laptop, she sat down on her bed, opening her internet browser to the search bar. She contemplated the right way to go about this, chewing on her bottom lip in thought as her fingertips hovered over the keyboard. 

First, Natasha typed things like, "Valentine's Day gifts woman", and "Original Valentine's Day gifts", but she quickly realized this was not at all what she wanted. The gifts were far from original, and she was pretty sure Katya didn't want a pillow with her face printed on it. 

Aggressively deleting it, she tried other keywords, more specific ones tailored to Katya, but the internet didn't seem to understand her. All it showed her was mass-produced and cheaply made junk. The same things a thousand other New Yorkers would be getting from their loved ones. 

No, it had to be something more personal. But Natasha wasn't crafty enough to make anything the lists suggested, and getting Katya a knife for Valentine's Day didn't give off the right message. 

She got more frustrated by the minute, slamming the keys harder than the agents down at IT would like. Nothing that passed her screen felt right, and she didn't have much time left to find something. She'd already avoided dealing with this for as long as she could.

The taste of iron flooded her tongue, and Natasha realized she'd bitten through her lip in her desperation. She licked the blood off as she aggressively closed all the tabs in her browser. The internet had turned out to be entirely unhelpful once again.

With a quiet groan, she fell back on her bed, staring at the blank ceiling. What did she know about Katya? What did she like? They were still learning each other, getting to know each other again. A few months was nowhere near long enough to know everything about her, especially with all the guards they had up. They were definitely moving twice, if not three times, as slow as the average couple.

But there had to be something. Something Katya mentioned—

Natasha shot up at once, her fingers flying over the keys this time. 

On New Year's Day, the cafeteria had chocolate bonbons for the agents that stayed on base. They'd done that the years before, nothing special. But she remembered bumping into Katya in the hallway just outside, the blonde munching on one of them and having a couple more in the palm of her hand. When she had asked if they were any good, Katya had nodded but said they would never compare to her favorite Russian bonbons, filled with vodka liquor. 

Natasha had never been so happy with her good memory, thanking the gods for saving Valentine's Day for her. Typing the brand in the search bar, she managed to find a store in the city that had the chocolates. From there on out, it was simple to order a box and have it delivered.

Beyond relieved, Natasha shut her laptop, grinning to herself. It was the perfect gift. Thoughtful, personal, it showed that she paid attention, and it fit the Valentine's Day theme. She couldn't have picked anything better. The only thing left was for her to run to the local florist and pick up some roses.

~~~~

On February 14, Natasha was awoken at 5:30 by the nervous churning of her stomach. It was such an unfamiliar feeling that for a moment, she thought she'd caught an illness. Restless stomach, feeling jittery, cold tremors; all signs of the flu. But then she remembered the date. 

Slowly, she got out of bed, trying to ignore her bubbling stomach as she showered and got dressed. It wasn't easy. She would have liked to drag the process out forever, hide in the safe shower, but she needed to catch Katya before she left. No way was she waiting all day to give everything. 

Only when she was satisfied with the way she looked did she open her closet again, crouching to pick up the vase she'd hidden there the day before. Last night, she brought it in, the bouquet hidden in a big cardboard box that she carried through HQ. No agent had spared her a glance.

At 6, Natasha no longer allowed herself to hesitate. She gave herself a mental kick under the butt, grabbed the chocolates and flowers, and headed for the door. With one last deep breath, she slowly opened it, sticking her head through the gap to check left and right. The hallway was empty. 

She felt like a coward, sneaking around like she was dropping off drugs instead of flowers, but her reputation here within SHIELD is what saved her when she first started out, and what kept people respecting her as someone not to mess with.

Her reputation was precious to her. One day, she'd happily sacrifice it for Katya, but before that could happen, she needed to do a lot of work on herself. Growing and evolving took time.

Swift like a cat, Natasha slipped into the hallway, silently closing her door behind her. Again, she listened for footsteps, but the only thing in her ears was her own heartbeat. Her hands were clammy around the box of chocolates.

The thing she was nervous about wasn't seeing Katya. In fact, she looked forward to seeing her again. That smile that greeted her every morning when she pulled her door open was the thing keeping her alive right now. 

No, what she was nervous about was the gesture itself. Her head was filled with only doubts. Had she chosen the right things? Was it too much? Was it too little? Did Katya think Valentine's Day was stupid? Natasha thought she'd like it, because Katya liked New Year's too, and that was also a dumb holiday in her eyes. 

Much like last week, Natasha found herself staring at a wooden door. It had a small dent in it, she realized, right at eye-height. Maybe a previous resident had accidentally knocked their forehead into it.

Her heart pounded in her chest when her fist raised to knock, but she did it. Four, quick knocks, her hand retracting like it had touched fire. She shuffled in her spot, adjusting the things in her hands as she listened to Katya's shuffling on the other side. Even if she wanted to flee, it was too late now. Footsteps were swelling on.

The door swung open, a pair of blue eyes and a kind smile replacing the brown wood. Natasha's heart skipped a beat for other reasons now. Her girlfriend looked so beautiful, her hair loose and her eyes slightly puffy from sleep.

"Good mo—" Katya's voice cut off, her gaze shooting to the things in Natasha's hands.

Natasha couldn't find her voice. How could she have forgotten to think about what to say?! Her clothes, her hair, the gifts, when to give it; it had all been given thorough consideration. But not once had she thought about what she would say. Not once!

"For you," she threw out, her voice sounding ten times more calm and collected than her brain was. The smile on her face was supposed to be gentle, but it felt insecure and nervous on her lips.

Katya's beautiful eyes widened in disbelief. "Nat…" She gasped softly, carefully taking the flowers from her hand. Her nose disappeared between the rose petals, taking a whiff of the fresh scent. Her eyes sparkled when she looked up at her girlfriend again. "That's so sweet of you. Thank you so much." Another gasp flew off her lips once she clocked the bonbons. "Oh, my god. Are those the chocolates? I can't believe you remembered."

Natasha could tell how red her cheeks were based on how warm they felt. Receiving compliments had never been her strong suit. But she felt so relieved, too, realizing all her worries were for nothing because Katya would have probably been happy with a simple kiss. She'd made this way too big in her head.

Her head, that seemed to be the main problem in her life.

"Maybe don't eat them all at once. Don't think Fury would appreciate it if you're drunk on the job," she joked, feeling her usual confidence come back to her.

Katya shrugged, carefully opening the packaging. "Don't care. I'm having one right now."

Natasha chuckled at her enthusiasm, happy her gift was received so well. "It's six in the morning."

"I know." Katya grinned. "Come in, I'll make coffee." She pulled Natasha into her apartment by her sleeve, closing the door behind her. 

They didn't have time to chat or drink coffee, but for once, Natasha didn't protest. She felt light, like she could handle whatever the world was going to throw at her today. She was proud of herself, too. Taking a romantic leap was terrifying, but it clearly paid off. Her eyes followed Katya closely as she placed the roses on the coffee table, adjusting them so they looked nice.

"I didn't know you'd get me anything. I would have gotten you something too." Katya smiled as she turned around. "I thought you hated Valentine's Day."

"I do." Natasha paused. Did she still? "Kinda."

"Yet you got me something." Katya's eyes took in her appearance. A brown leather jacket that she saved for special occasions, her hair neatly styled. "And you look really put-together too. Put in extra effort to look nice?" She teased lovingly.

Natasha scoffed, looking away to hide the blush on her face. "No." Were her efforts really that obvious? If so, that was so embarrassing.

Katya hummed skeptically, closing the distance until she stood right in front of her. It was impossible to stay stubborn and not look. The pull of her bright blue irises was too strong. Natasha tentatively glanced their way, relaxing at the gentleness in them. 

"Well, either way, thank you. I really appreciate it," Katya said honestly, smiling softly. Natasha offered her a smile back, the closeness making it feel like she had to whisper.

"You're welcome."

The redhead's breath hitched in her throat when a pair of warm, rough hands cupped her cheeks. She barely had time to process before Katya stepped even closer and pressed a kiss to her lips. More than a couple dozen times they'd kissed, but it never failed to make her body react like the first time.

Before she could move her hands to hold Katya's waist, the woman had stepped back, her cheeks a light pink as well. "Consider that my gift." She teased.

"It'll do," Natasha chuckled breathily. 

It was already a better Valentine's Day than all her previous ones combined.

"Did you really expect nothing?" She asked after a moment, watching Katya make coffee in the small kitchen. It was only then that she realized her girlfriend wasn't fully dressed yet. Her cozy, fluffy cardigan wasn't work-appropriate and hung loosely over her tank top.

"I suspected something when Clint suddenly asked me about Valentine's Day last week," Katya said, looking over her shoulder as she poured some milk in her coffee cup. "You know that look in his eyes that he gets when he's trying to be nonchalant?" She chuckled.

Anger flashed through Natasha's body. "I told him not to ask," she grumbled through clenched teeth, turning her head away. Clint was an incredibly kind, selfless guy, but he was also so annoyingly stupid sometimes. 

One thing. She asked him one thing, and he couldn't keep his trap shut.

A smug grin overtook Katya's features. "So you did go to him for advice? I was just fishing."

Natasha's head snapped back to her girlfriend. Her glare did nothing but make her smirk wider, and Natasha couldn't even be mad, because she walked right into that one herself, didn't she? "Don't ever mention it again," she threatened.

Katya laughed softly, handing her her cup of black coffee. "Do you want to go out for breakfast? If you're not busy."

Natasha was, in fact, busy. But her meeting at seven also included Maria, and she could give her the details later. It wasn't any more important than spending Valentine's Day morning with her partner. "Yeah, sure. I'd love to."

Katya's smile widened. "Give me a minute to finish getting dressed." 

Pressing her coffee cup into Natasha's empty hand, she grabbed something from her dresser and disappeared into the bathroom. As the water in the sink ran, Natasha had the urge to drink Katya's coffee just to get her back for teasing her so much, but before she could actually put the cup to her lips, the blonde was back. 

Natasha nearly choked on her drink. "What are you wearing?"

Black clothing was the way to go in SHIELD. Black, dark blue, navy, the occasional dark red or green if anyone felt adventurous, but it always stayed near the darkest side of color shades. What Katya wore right now, a cherry red turtleneck, was very outside of the clothing norms. Natasha had never seen her wear anything other than black.

"What? You don't like it?" Katya asked, looking down at herself unsurely. 

"It's… red." Natasha blinked rapidly, trying to grasp the sight in front of her. "Very red."

"Yeah. But do you like it?"

To her own surprise, the answer was yes. Katya had never looked so… soft. "It's alright." So alright, in fact, that she felt slightly disappointed when she put her go-to leather jacket over it. 

"Thought I'd go with the theme." Katya smiled, chugging her coffee before grabbing her wallet and keys. 

They filed out of her room, the hallway still empty and quiet as most agents were only now starting to wake up, snoozing their alarms for five minutes more sleep. Natasha should be heading right to prepare for her meeting, but instead she followed Katya to the left, to the elevator heading for the underground garage.

It didn't make her any less of a good employee. It made her more human. 

And as she pressed the elevator button and felt Katya's hand slip into her own, she knew she was going to allow her to hold it a little bit longer today.

#katandnat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff fluff #valentine's day #natasha romanoff x katya petrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff x oc #natasha romanoff x original female character

[spideystevie]

hi sweet allie!! may I request 💘 with the prompt "fixing their tie" from "little romantic gestures?" ur an angel i love u happy valentines day <3 xo, @familyvideostevie

sweet sweet emma!! happy valentine’s to you, too! i love you <3 had one idea for this initially and then went a completely different way after consulting a friend. anyway, very excited about this one even though it became more of a tying the tie instead of fixing it but alas same concept! hope you enjoy - [0.9k] | join the party!

There’s an agonizing bite of nerves under Bradley’s skin this morning as he gets ready. You’d been skirting around each other all morning, hurrying to get ready in a rush after waking up late.

Your baby sister graduates college today, a huge feat that she’d told you felt almost impossible. When it came time for invitations to the ceremony, Rooster was one of the first people on her list. He nearly cried when you’d told him, something he made you promise not to mention to anyone. 

After all these years it didn’t come as much of a shock to you. He’d basically become her older brother by association when he started dating you and she looked up to him almost as much as she did you. 

Even still, Bradley was nervous. He’d been to family dinners and that one New Year’s Eve party, a Thanksgiving once too, but those all felt like something on a completely different scale than this. It feels like something more intimate, reserved specifically for blood, being one of the few invited to watch your sister walk across a stage. 

He knows it’s silly, a little bit juvenile even, to feel like he’s going to somehow mess this up or be a disruption. He can’t count the amount of times your mom has told him he was a part of the family now. She still insists each time he’s around that he drops the formalities and just calls her mom. 

His tie not cooperating with his shaky hands isn’t helping his nervous antics either. 

“Need some help?” your voice is a calming siren breaking through his anxious reverie. You’re leaning against the doorframe, halfway in the bathroom with a sweet smile on your face.

He looks at you through the mirror, his hands stilling on the fabric material of his tie. A sheepish look crosses his face as he turns around to face you. You use it as an invitation to step forward and take the two ends of the tie into your hands. 

“Thought you’d be a pro at this by now,” you tease him, a gentle probe that’s softened by your smile when you look up at him through your lashes. A flustered shade of pink rises to his cheeks. He shakes his head as he watches your hands move.

“So did I,” he says and you laugh. A small pinch forms between your brow from concentrating, eyes focused on making sure you get the knot on his tie right. This close, you wonder if he can feel your heart accelerating in the slightest over an action so inherently intimate.

Silence settles over the bathroom save for the sound of your hands on the tie and the fabric brushing against itself as you start to tighten the knot up towards the collar of his shirt.

He takes the time to just look at you, memorizing the lines and slopes of your face. He thinks you’re radiant. 

“And…done,” you nestle the top of a knot in a spot you hope is comfortable for him. One of your hands smooths down the front of the tie, adjusting it just a bit to make sure it’s perfect. Your eyes drift back up to his face to find him already staring at you. 

“What would I do without you?” It feels like there should be a teasing bite to it, but he says it with such sincerity, it makes your head spin. Because yes, you did up his tie for him but you also managed to silence any wavering thought in his brain. There’s a warm adoration coating his features, an intensity that makes your chest feel funny in the best way. 

You stare at him for a beat, enough for your gaze and his to flicker towards each other's lips. A heat rushes to your face as he lowers his face down to yours. You use the hand still resting on his chest to grab at his tie and tug him down to meet you fully.

If your usual demeanor and bright smile weren’t enough to quell his nerves before, the way you’re kissing him definitely is. His hands fall against your waist, his lips soft against yours. You kiss him like you’re not running late for a graduation ceremony, like right now in this moment time’s paused and resting in the palm of your hand.

You pull away, both of you a little dazed but full of lovestruck smiles. You take a step back and towards the door to grab your shoes. He takes a second to breathe before following after you. The two of you pull on your shoes by the door and just as he’s about to open it to leave, you stop him. 

“Wait!” you rush out and he pauses, hand wrapped around the door handle ready to pull it open. You step forward into his bubble of space again, shifting his tie that you’d caused to go askew back into place. Your hand lingers against his chest for a moment, palm against the fabric of his shirt and tie. 

You step back again, your hand falling back to your side. “Okay. Now we can go.”

Bradley can’t resist, he pulls you in by the small of your back to kiss you once more. It’s over sooner than the last but it leaves you just as doe eyed and blinking. 

You make it inside and to your seats near your parents in the nick of time and all at once his nerves seem to return. It’s different though, they mix with a swell of pride in his chest, one that grows only stronger when your sister’s name is called. She spots him in the crowd with ease, cheering loud next to you and her face lights up. 

When he sits back down with you, he feels more at home than he has in years.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw fluff #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw blurb #rooster blurb #allie's valentine's house party <3 #📝: a writes! #allie's vday party blurbs!

[ghostofskywalker]

Wanting a Crosshair request? I gotchu! How about:

Fake dating prompt: “Hey they’re offering free drinks to couples on Valentine’s Day.” “Grab your coat, let’s go”

this is a modern au and i had so much fun with it!! i hope you enjoy :)

words: 705

clone troopers masterlist

Valentines Day never held much significance for you, and even when you were in the occasional relationship, it always felt too ostentatious and overstated. So you were perfectly content this year to spend the holiday laying on the couch, flipping through channels on your TV and ordering a heart-shaped pizza for you to eat all by yourself. 

Your roommate happened to be home as well, and he sat at the kitchen table while you scrolled through your phone, trying to decide which restaurant you wanted to order the aforementioned pizza from. “We should go to 79’s,” he said, seemingly out of nowhere. 

You picked your head up and looked at him. “The bar? Why?” 

“They’re offering free drinks to couples on Valentine’s Day.”

“Do we both suddenly have significant others I don’t know about?” you asked, a puzzled look on your face. 

He rolled his eyes. “No, you di’kut, we’ll pretend to be a couple.” 

“Why would I want to do that?” 

“Did the part about free drinks escape you somehow?”

“There’s definitely going to be some kind of safeguard to stop people from doing exactly what you want to do,” you reasoned. “They’ll never buy it.” 

“Why not?” he asked. “We’ve lived together for years, you know all my family, and I can list off your morning routine in my sleep. I guarantee we know each other better than some couples do. Grab your coat, let’s go.” 

You paused before responding. He was right, you had lived together long enough that you could probably get by some light questioning at the bar, and you did really like the idea of free drinks. “Alright, give me a few minutes to get ready,” you said, picking yourself up off the couch. Heart shaped pizza would have to wait. 

79’s was packed, as you expected it would be. You managed to get a booth and place an order before the first second thoughts came through. “We can’t do this,” you hissed to Crosshair, who had taken up residence next to you (rather than across from you) and had his arm around your shoulder. It started “as a way to sell the ruse,” but you were really trying to ignore how natural and comfortable it felt.

“Why not?” he whispered back. “They’re barely paying attention to us.” 

“But still-” 

“You have more of a moral compass than I do, darling,” he responded, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear (after which you had to suppress a shiver). “Do you want to really sell it? Do something so clear that they’ll never bother us about being a couple again?”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” you asked, finding it a little hard to think with him being so close to you. 

“This.” His lips found yours moments later, and they moved firmly but softly as his hands pulled you closer to him. You knew exactly what this was, but you had never felt a spark like this when kissing before, so you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of it and kiss him back. You would have never imagined your roommate to have the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, but you were not complaining. 

He moved to deepen the kiss, but you were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You waiter was standing at the head of the table with basket of bread, and he just rolled his eyes slightly before placing it in front of you and saying that he’d be back with the drinks you ordered. Once he was far enough away, Crosshair turned to you with a smile on your face. “See? He won’t say a thing now.” 

“I still feel a little bad for lying.” 

“Then let’s not,” he said, and you once again shot him a puzzled look. “I’ve never felt anything like what I felt when I kissed you, and I know it’s a little late in the day, but I want you to be my valentine.” 

Instead of trying to put your feelings into words, you just leaned in and kissed him again, almost feeling bad for the poor waiter who would have to deal with you two for the rest of the night.

#🍷 blurbs #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #star wars x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #crosshair x gender neutral reader

[writeshite]

Saddle Up Partner

Summary:

You huff, “Anything you can tell me about the sheriff? Is he rough? Does he cry as some of the others do?” You ask, leaning against the door, “Come on, Nat, you’ve slept with him; what’s he like in bed?”

“You’ll find out, but a word of advice, don’t expect to walk much tomorrow.”

Pairings:

Sheriff!Steve Rogers x Male!Reader

Tags:

Western AU | Smut | Plot? What Plot? |

Words: 1576

Author's Note:

I have no excuse or any semblance of explanation as to why I wrote this. I will be seeing myself out now, enjoy. 🙃

The sun’s barely up in the sky when there’s a knock on your door; the madam stands there in her sleep-addled glory; she chuckles at your similar appearance before handing an envelope to you. You shift the envelope around, smiling at the rustling of coins and sturdy-feeling of stacked notes.

“Congratulations, you won by a landslide.”

You huff, “Anything you can tell me about the sheriff? Is he rough? Does he cry as some of the others do?” You ask, leaning against the door, “Come on, Nat, you’ve slept with him; what’s he like in bed?”

“You’ll find out, but a word of advice, don’t expect to walk much tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say much else, leaving you with your thoughts. You shift through your closet; from what you’ve seen, the sheriff is well mannered, silent, fierce, and exceptionally gifted in many areas. You’d heard the other saloon doves talk about his prowess in the saddle - both in and outside the bedroom - the few he’d bedded had been very scant in their recollections. They needn’t say much, though, as the limping was enough of an indicator - the man was, for lack of a better word, private. In the many years you’d seen him in the saloon, you’d heard him utter no more than a few words. You turn over the vermillion bunny suit Natasha had gifted you last valentine’s day - the suit was quite revealing, the collared top of it was see-through, with various flowers and hearts drawn across the front and back. It descended into see-through pants, with the groin covered by roses and thorns cascading down the legs. The suit came with an equally lavish petticoat to place atop the legs; it was easy to tear off and added a bit of flair to the outfit.

You held it up to your body, swaying side by side while waltzing up to the mirror; you switched out for another outfit - your infamous copper suit, not as eye-catching in decor, but more so in its openness, there was very little left to the imagination with this one. It even had an easily flappable backside for ease of access. You switched between the two suits before leaving it to chance with a coin toss, heads fr the valentine one, and tails for the copper one. The coin flies in the air, spinning on itself, and when it lands in your hands again, you find yourself smirking at the sight of heads. You waste no time slipping into the valentine attire, you move your hair back, sweeping it from your face, and you do your best to weave your hair somehow, incorporating a few roses on each side. Once you were satisfied, you slipped on downstairs, keeping away from the other patrons’ eyes; Natasha met you around the back.

“Don’t take it to heart if he seems a bit withdrawn at the sight of you; after all, this whole thing was a collective town effort. So do your best to tell him that before you jump his bones.” Natasha saddled up a horse as you donned an overcoat, then you were gone.

The sheriff’s property was a ranch situated at the edge of town and as far away as possible from the entrance. The road leading up to it diverted away into the property, surrounded by trees all around, the mountains to the back, its isolated location was peaceful. You settled your horse by the trees nearby and sat by the front steps as you waited for the man’s arrival. When the sheriff did arrive, you were at a loss for words; looking at him up close did far more wonders than the glimpses you’d gotten before. Sheriff Rogers was on the tall side, his figure well-built, as evident by his muscles; his shirt was slightly askew, moved to the side, hat settled on his head, his beard was well-groomed, and hair moved back. His legs were well defined - at least from what you could see when he dismounted from his horse - and the bulge in his pants appeared already half hard. He towered over you when he came to a stop, glancing down at you in question.

“Howdy, sheriff,” you greeted.

“Howdy to you as well,” he responded uncertainly, “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”

You leaned forward, tracing your fingers up his chest, “It’s not what you can help me with, more so what I can you with. See, the whole town’s grateful you’ve been protecting us and keeping order all these years, so we decided to reward you.”

“I already got my reward at the saloon.” Rogers grabbed your hand from his chest, staring down at you in sternness.

“I’m more of a personal reward for all the hard work you’ve done,” you retorted, “besides, haven’t you ever wanted to have your rewards in the comfort of your own home, no interruptions, no payments?” You loosened the overcoat slightly, giving him a peek at your undergarments; a slight blush danced its way across his cheeks as he appeared to contemplate your words. Your other hand moved down to his dick; the half-hard bulge had become a massive tent in his trousers; you traced your finger alongside it, cooing at its size. You settled your hand on his trouser zipper, toying with it as your other hand shifted to hold his. Rogers' eyes closed blissfully, snapping back open when you moved away, a smug expression on your face. “Of course, if you don’t want that, I’ll be on my way; I’m sure there are plenty of other men in need of my services.

You moved to step aside but found yourself unable to when the sheriff crowded you, “I’ll take that as a no then.” Your words came out in the end like a whisper when his face came close to yours; you were backed against a wall, Roger’s knee moving up in between your legs as one of his arms settled above your head. His other hand tilted your head to the side, his head coming to your neck; he dragged his nose along it, chuckling at the sounds it elicited from you. “Rogers…”

“Steve,” he muttered before hauling you into the house. You barely took in the interior decor as the sheriff dragged you around. Though you didn’t pay that much mind either, turning back to Steve, you moved your hand from his grip, backing him as well as you could to the bed. He sat down; hands splayed back; you unzipped his trousers, setting his dick free as it sprung up, a hint of precum dribbling from it. Its thick girth and length had your mind swimming with anticipation.

You touched the tip of Steve’s cock, moving your finger down his shaft and over a few of the protruding veins, the action drawing a groan from the man. You took it into your mouth, pacing yourself until the whole thing was down your throat; you moved back halfway, then back to the hilt, bobbing your head at a leisurely pace. Steve’s hand came to your hair, knocking the roses intertwined to the side for a better grip; he bucked up into your mouth once or twice, and your hands settled themselves onto his thick thighs as you sucked him off. Your tongue around his cock, his hands ceasing your head movements when he came, holding your head close until the gush of cum had stopped. He stood after, undressing as you situated yourself across his bed; when he returned, he did so, oil in hand, and he positioned himself behind you. The oil was cold, sending goosebumps across your body; Steve spread it around your hole; you turned in time to see him pour it across his fingers; they moved in and out slowly, opening you at his leisure as you mewled.

Your leg was pushed up to your chest, Steve’s chest moved closer to your back, his form curving over you, his mouth by your ear. “Good boy.” He whispered, adding another finger. You bit your lip; head tilted back; he took the chance, face settling on your neck, this time placing hickeys; he managed four fingers before he was satisfied. His hand left your ass, moving your leg away from your chest; he moved it outward; Steve’s cock slid in inch by inch. He moved out to the tip, then rammed back in, his pace relentless and quick; his other hand had found its way to your hip, holding you in place as he fucked you. Whatever words he uttered were drowned out by your moans and his grunts of pleasure in between. He moves fast and precise, hitting the right spot and sending you into overdrive; you take your dick in hand, jacking it off at an erratic pace. Steve’s movements stopped, his orgasm rippling through him; you shuddered as you came soon after, head flopping against him; the room was now filled with exhausted panting. You clenched around Steve’s cock, wincing at the pain it sent.

“Nat was right; I’m not walking tomorrow.” Steve chuckled at your expense, “Not funny, sheriff.”

“Sorry about that; if you like, you could stay awhile tomorrow; I don’t mind,” he said, taking your cock in hand again; he rubbed its tip. He positioned himself closer, shoving his dick further inside you; his other hand took to your nipple, and he pinched it, pulling at it harshly, “Besides, we’re not done yet.”

End Note:

Hope you enjoyed reading this shite. Stay Hydrated.

#steve rogers x male!reader #marvel imagine #I'll see myself out #le smutty #smut

[gotlostonmywayhome]

Girl Back There Valentine's Day Self-Rec List

I've been kind of going through it with my physical and mental health over the last several months. I haven't been doing a whole lot of creating as a result. I attempted to do something for Valentine's Day, a ficlet, a drabble, a moodboard, something, but I've been lacking the time and motivation.

While I'm working on not letting that get me down, I thought I would at least do a self-rec list to put out work that I have done in hopes that I will get back to my creating ways someday. I've only written one fic that is Valentine's Day themed, but I do have a few soft, squishy fics for you to enjoy the holiday with.

A Holiday More Meaningless than President’s Day (Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton, Rated M, 5k)

Clint has a minor problem. Despite seeing all the advertisements and heart decorations everywhere, Clint hasn’t thought about Valentine’s Day. Now he is wondering if the Russian spy/assassin/all-around-badass he has been secretly banging like a faulty screen door for the last few months wants to celebrate the holiday. Since Bucky wants to keep their thing a secret, does that mean he doesn't want to celebrate? Would Bucky be upset if Clint treated today as a normal Sunday? Does Clint want to treat today as a normal Sunday? And even if Bucky does acknowledge the holiday, how does one handle this day with a fuck-buddy? Clint is nowhere near psychologically mature enough to handle these things.

Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet (Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Rated M, 6.2k)

Bucky doesn’t know how his mother managed to Jedi mind trick him into dropping off Becca at summer camp this year, but she somehow did it. Despite his grumpiness at the unreasonable hour in which he was wrenched from his nice and cozy bed, Bucky is glad for this time with his little sister. Becca spends their time talking about the activities she got to do last summer that she hopes will be back again this year, all of which was organized by Steve Rogers. After she came home from Camp Marvel last year, all Becca could talk about was Steve Rogers, one of the counselors for her team, The Howlies. Steve Rogers was an amazing artist. Steve Rogers participates in all of the competitions despite his asthma, scoliosis, heart arrhythmia, and various other medical issues. Steve Rogers totally drinks his respect women juice. Bucky would be worried about his sister may be developing a crush on this Steve guy, but after meeting him, Bucky is more preoccupied with the crush he's developing on Steve. So preoccupied in fact, he ends up signing on to be a camp counselor for the summer.

The Sunrises in Wakanda (Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Rated G, 2.8k)

The sunsets in Wakanda are unrivaled if you ask anyone lucky enough to see them and Bucky agrees. They are truly spectacular, but Bucky prefers the sunrises. The start of a new day in this life he managed to carve for himself since the fall of Hydra.

(More after the cut)

In a room full of art, I'd still stare at you (Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Rated E, 9.6k)

The blond grabs his chest and throws his head back, laughing with his whole body. Bucky can hear the sound from where he is across the gallery. The sound is far deeper than Bucky could have anticipated on a man that small. Bucky can feel the sides of his mouth curl upwards at hearing that laugh. As if his thoughts called out to him, the blond looks over and catches Bucky staring. Bucky should look away, he’s being rude and creepy, but he can’t. Those startling blue eyes have him snared.

Animal Husband(ry) (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Rated T, 1.2k)

Ear scratches, man, they are the best.

Vibe Check (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Rated T, 1.1k)

Harley and Peter worked too hard to get their dads together for Tony to forget to give Steve flowers.

Love You Latte (Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Rated T, ≤1000)

Clint’s favorite customer strolls in at a quarter to eight. Exactly on time and looking as delicious as ever with the no tie, open collar look. It nearly leaves Clint tongue tied.

Coming Home (And Finding You) (Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Rated T, 1.4k)

Phil has a rough mission. When he gets home, Clint has all of Phil’s favorites ready.

The Universe is Ridiculous (Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Rated T, 1.3k)

Phil should know better and be careful about what he asks for. Or at least be very specific as to what he asks for. The Universe has a wicked sense of humor and will likely do exactly as wished.

#valentines day #v day #fic recs #self recs #marvel #stucky #stony #winterhawk #phlint

[torreshalstead]

Matching rings and matching names

Summary - ‘Do you wish I’d done it properly?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘Done what properly?’

‘The proposal. If I’d have done it properly with a ring?’

Post proposal, Hailey and Jay have a discussion about rings.

Notes - Happy Valentine’s Day! Thought it was the perfect time for some Upstead fluff, I hope you enjoy! AO3 Link

The air was cooling against their drying skin as Jay and Hailey laid tangled together atop her bed. The blinds into the room were open, the only light coming from the outside casting shadows across the bed. She was curled into Jay’s side, her fingertips running patterns across his chest, his hand tight around her back, his other one resting under his head as he gazed up at the ceiling.

‘Hails’, he said softly, his quiet voice breaking through the peaceful silence.

‘Hmm’, Hailey made the noise in response but didn’t slow her movements along his skin.

‘Do you wish I’d done it properly?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘Done what properly? That felt pretty proper to me’, she said with a light giggle, her laugh fanning lightly against his chest.

‘The proposal. If I’d have done it properly, with a ring?’ Her hand stilled at this and he brought his own down from behind his head to hold it, gently rubbing his thumb across her empty ring finger.

‘I don’t need a ring Jay. I just need you.’ She spoke quietly but firmly. ‘You already proposed a second time after I did, and you got down on one knee. It was a proper proposal.’ Jay hummed in response but Hailey could still feel him rubbing his thumb against her finger. She pushed herself up slightly so she could look at him. ‘It was perfect Jay. I promise. I don’t need a ring,’ she smiled, which he returned but she could still see that it didn’t quite meet his eyes. She knew the difference between when he was smiling from his heart and when he was just putting one on in an attempt to appease others. ‘Talk to me Jay,’ she whispered and patted his chest lightly in an attempt to focus him, ‘what’s brought this on?’

‘I just want-’ he started to say but stopped himself before starting again after taking a breath. ‘You’re life hasn’t been easy Hailey, and I know you don’t like talking about it,’ he added quickly knowing that Hailey would be likely to interrupt him. He had known the woman lying in his arms long enough to know that. ‘But you said it yourself, you want to have some normalcy in your life. And normalcy is an engagement ring and a wedding and everything that comes along with it. And I don’t want you to miss out on that stuff.’

‘But what if I don’t want that stuff,’ Hailey responded.

‘I just want to make sure you don’t want it because you don’t want it, not because you think you shouldn’t,’ he said quietly, tightening his grip on her hand. To most people, what Jay was saying would make no sense at all but Hailey understood perfectly.

She had never been one to follow tradition, the regular way of life. Rather preferring to do her own thing and forge her own path. But sometimes it was to her own detriment. She remembered telling Jay the story of her homecoming Junior year.

She had been asked to go by a boy in her class but had adamantly turned it down. She told herself it was because a dress was likely to show off her arms and the bruises that were usually concealed by her long sleeves. That and the fact that Homecoming was just stupid anyway. But when the night came and she stayed at home, listening to her Dad’s shouts echoing around the house, she realised she had wanted to be there. She would have been able to be a normal teenager for the night. She could have found a dress with sleeves, or put a jacket or a shawl on, no one would have noticed anything wrong. She had somehow persuaded herself that she didn’t want to go, because other girls, girls she thought she was like, also didn’t want to. That Homecoming was only for the popular girls, the airheads, not someone as down to earth as Hailey Anne Upton. Girls like her didn’t go to Homecoming, wear a pretty dress and dance awkwardly with a boy. They just didn’t.

The night she told Jay that story had been the same night they had danced in the kitchen for the first time. He had asked her to dance a few times before but she had always shook her head and given an excuse: she was cooking, she couldn’t dance, it was silly. But this time she let him take her in his arms and sway gently. She suddenly realised what she had missed out on all those other times. Because she thought Hailey Upton shouldn’t want to dance. But in reality, she did. And that night swaying slowly in her kitchen, in the arms of the man she loved, she realised it was okay to want things that perhaps didn’t fit with the persona she presented.

The same had happened the first time Jay bought her flowers. She had made a quip that he must be apologising for something but he had just said he thought they were pretty and they reminded him of her. They had sat proudly on her coffee table until their colours were dull and the petals lifeless, but she had kept one of the flowers, pressed tightly in between the pages of one of her books. She had thought it was soft when girls had kept flowers from boys, had rolled her eyes everytime it was shown in a movie or written in one of the books that she borrowed from the library as a teen, but every time she opened the book and saw the dried petals, it brought a smile to her face. And now when Jay buys her flowers, she just says thank you with a smile.

Hailey smiled at Jay, ‘thank you,’ she whispered and resumed her movements across his bare chest. Her fingers dancing lightly across the skin.

‘For what?’

‘For always checking in, for being there for me, for understanding that sometimes my head doesn’t always want the same as my heart’ she spoke softly, trying to get her feelings out coherently. ‘But I am serious, I don’t want a ring. I want a marriage. I want you and me and our life together, a diamond on my finger isn’t going to change that’.

‘Compromise?’ Jay offered.

‘What did you have in mind?’ She grinned and rested her head atop her hand so she could continue to look at him, his green eyes glistening as he smiled down at her.

‘No engagement ring but we get matching wedding bands?’ Hailey contemplated for a moment, dramatically making thoughtful noises before nodding with a smile.

‘I like that idea,’ she said.

‘You do?’

‘I like the idea of people knowing you’re mine,’ she laughed, ‘but in all seriousness, I like that idea. That we would match.’

‘Perfect,’ he leant down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger a little longer than normal.

‘Not big gaudy things though, practical ones,’ she added and Jay nodded in response.

‘Practical ones it is.’

‘We could get them engraved,’ Hailey suggested quietly, half thinking Jay wouldn’t hear.

‘Really?’ He asked with a smile.

‘Mhmm’, she moved to rest her head back into the crook of his neck. ‘Just for us’ she added.

‘Just for us,’ he echoed as he brought one of his hands up to nestle in her hair. ‘And if you ever change your mind, I’ll take you straight down to the jewellers and get you a ring right there and then,’ he said with a smile.

‘I know you would. And that’s why I love you Jay,’ she planted a gentle kiss to his chest as she felt his arms tighten around him.

‘I love you too’, he whispered as the pair drifted back into a comfortable silence, the promise of a future together lingering in the air.

‘Would you mind if I took your name?’ Hailey said softly. ‘After we’re married I mean’.

‘Wouldn’t both of us being Halstead at work be confusing?’ Jay laughed, Hailey felt his chest rise and fall in time with the laughter. ‘Of course I wouldn’t mind Hailey, I’d love it.’

‘I would stay Upton at work, it would be too confusing otherwise but in our everyday life. Like I said earlier, we would match. And it’s a bit of normalcy.’

‘Hailey Halstead,’ Jay murmured. ‘That sounds pretty perfect to me.’

‘You’re supposed to share the name of the people that love you. And you love me more than anyone else ever has.’

‘Hailey Halstead it is,’ he kissed her forehead and felt her melt further into him. ‘Mr and Mrs Halstead.’

‘Now that makes me sound old,’ she giggled. ‘But Hailey Halstead, that I like the sound of’.

‘Then as soon as we tie the knot and get those matching rings, we will go to the courthouse and get matching names as well,’ he chuckled softly.

‘Thank you,’ she said as she nuzzled her face further into his neck.

‘For?’ he asked.

‘For loving me so much you’re letting me have the chance of normalcy, of having the same last name as my husband’.

‘Your husband’.

‘My husband. At least you will be soon’.

#upstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #jay halstead #jay x hailey #upstead fic #upstead fanfic #chicago pd fic #one Chicago #one chicago fanfic #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic #one chicago fic #chicago pd fanfiction #one chicago fanfiction

[anayaahwrites]

KOT Ficlet #7 (Kudou Chika/Houzuki Satowa)

The post chapter 110 ficlet I had promised ;)

Since I'm a little late, this is set in a hotel they're staying at for nationals.

This is more of an excuse to write them as hormonal teenagers because I can't do that in my longfic lmao.

⚠️: This is soft PwP majorly, so here's your rating warning! (Rated E for Explicit). Enjoy!

The world is conspiring against her today.

Satowa huffs, standing before the locked door of her room at seven in the evening, jiggling the doorknob at the tiniest hope of it unlocking itself somehow. 

But no, it's bolted shut with no give, and the master key was marvelously not available either. Granted, it was her fault. She was certain she knew Hiro’s sleep pattern well enough to predict when the girl would awaken, hence decided to leave her pair of keys in their shared room.

 She was evidently wrong. Satowa sighs, resigning to sit herself beside the door till she thought of something else. Not like she didn’t have enough of a jungle gym in her brain already.

It had been two weeks since they.... confessed which is putting it tamely given how they both yelled their feelings out to each other a day apart.

 Satowa had expected nothing in return. In that moment, she only remembers seeing red—when Chika bowed his head. She thought a hug was simple enough, something she could explain away later easily—it was a white lie, she was having a sunstroke, whatever works.

 But when forced to confess, Satowa had never fathomed his arms wrapping around her, head softly lying against her shoulder. She had never fathomed a reply—the same as hers, with a wide grin across his face—only the day after. 

 But the progression of events had led to Satowa wanting something more the day after that, like a monkey in an experiment being psychologically wired to demand more candy.

 She sighs, resting her head between her knees. Because nothing came. The next day, the day after the next. Even almost two weeks later, they were perfectly normal around each other. Something had changed in Chika, though. He'd become more... mature. His usually fiery eyes were more relaxed, a laid back light in them that watched her carefully, every hour of everyday. 

 Unsurprisingly, she wasn't the only girl to notice this change. Fifty percent of the school population now saw him, more than ever, as a boy put through horrible circumstances that he never deserved. Some of them cried and bought him lunches and chocolates as an apology for treating him like a criminal. 

 She was happy for him, when he shyly took their bargain. She really was. 

 Until it somehow turned into an 'everyday-is-valentines-day' fiesta and Chika's locker was exploding with gifts round the clock. That was a bit much.

 And Satowa had predicted him to yell at them to stop—for Christ's sake—throwing food his way as if he were a dying fish. The old Chika would do that. 

New Chika, however, simply pursed his lips, chucked the contents of his locker into a bag and offered it to everyone in the club later, insisting they take it home and not eat it here so as to not hurt anyone that the intended recipient wasn't the one taking them.

Satowa never accepts any, feeling a little jaded. “I don’t like sweet things,” is her excuse.

He'd told her he loved her back and for a while, she thought he did. But her confidence began to falter, now that the small smiles usually sent her way were public property. 

Maybe he really did love her as a friend and she misunderstood his kindness.

She buries her head deeper into her knees, groaning in irritation. The sound of jingling keys makes her raise her head in relief. Hiro-senpai you savior—

"What...." He eyes her, confused.

 "Uh...” Oh, great. Of all the people. "Locked my keys in the room." she smiles awkwardly.

 "The other pair?"

 "Hiro-senpai has it. She isn't in."

 She eyes her watch. Quarter past Seven. Judging by the breathless huffing, he was returning from an evening run. He wipes the sweat off his brow in a way Satowa thinks Kudou doesn't know is so scandalous.

 "Have you seen the practice room downstairs?"

 She would have, if her brain wasn't so full of him.

 "Wanna check it out now? Since you have time to kill?"

 "Why?" She hadn't meant to ask that out loud, but now that it was out of her mouth, she was curious.

 He furrows his brows. "Aren't you supposed to ask me where at this point?"

 "No," She reiterates, "I'm more interested in why."

 Instead of answering her directly, he rattles the keys in her face. "I'd booked it an hour ago. Thought I'd ask glasses, but he's out so..."

 Ah, so that’s where Hiro was. Satowa squints, repeating, "So?"

 "So," he ruffles his hair. "Accompany me?"

 She didn’t need to be told twice.

 While Chika busies himself in laying down the Kotos, something he insisted to do for her whenever he was around because 'You weigh half of it and I'd know since I've carried you before.'

 (She'd never understood how he suddenly was completely comfortable saying the weirdest things.) 

 "No, really," She tries, again. "Why?"

 He barely looks over his shoulder to shoot her a sheepish glare, playing with the hem of the Koto cover, and staying rooted to his spot. 

 “In case you decided to come with somebody else.”

 "Somebody else..." She narrows her eyes. "Hiro-senpai?"

 He scratches his neck, mumbling, "That guy's here..."

 "I'm going to need more description than that."

 "The flashy guy," he waves it off, as if he doesn't want to say it. "The one from Ichiei. The one that..." He exhales loudly. "The one that hugged you."

 She frowns, a little offended, "I'm pretty sure I can defend myself with a kick to the groin. I don't need you to protect me."

 "What? No? No!" He defends. "It's not that he'd do anything to you. If anything, I know how much your kicks hurt. I just...” He releases an exhausted sigh. "I don't think you realizes how much attention your—" He scans her frame and averts his gaze, panicked. “you gather."

 "I gather attention?” She looks appalled. "Yes, because I'm the person girls are flocking around like felines high on catnip."

 He quirks an eyebrow. "Does it bother you?"

 She's silent for a second. Then, "No." 

 "Are you sure?"

 "Positive."

 "I hope you know you look pissed."

 "That's just my face."

 His lips twitch into a teasing grin but he ultimately drops the topic. 

 Satowa hmphs as he lays the Koto before her. She places her fingers gingerly over the strings, humming a familiar tune.

 "That's not 'I'."

 "No, it's not, " She replies, lightly thrumming the notes. “It’s a piece I play when I don't feel great."

 "So you are pissed."

 She rolls her eyes.

 “At me?" He hazards a guess. 

 "Yes,” She glares at him, pressing down on the first note to drown both their voices out. "And no."

 When music fills the air, Chika sits before her in comfortable silence, listening to her express whatever it was she wanted to. The piece is a high pitched screech in comparison to Satowa's usual delicate notes, bordering between a sacrificial satanic ceremony organ and a frustrated banshee wail. 

It helps her channel all her grievances in one place, in a matter of minutes. At some point she forgets Chika is in the room but it doesn't matter because he's in every thought she has. 

His voice. His smell. His skin.

Somewhere in between, it transforms her music, into a soft vibrato of a ballroom waltz, like the push and pull of hands and mingling of bodies. She lets the sound calm her nerves. Remind her focus right now should be music and nothing else, like it has always been. One up or down should change nothing between them. 

She was dealing with it for all this time, she could sustain another few years if Satowa put her mind to it. 

"That...”  His voice cuts through her thoughts. "That sounded pained."

She nods.

"Uh... Are you okay?"

There were many answers to this question. She had done a lot of thinking in the past few days of how to approach the topic of... them. Even saying that sounded strange to her ears. 

He edges closer. "Hou—"

"No," She replies. Then a heartbeat later, "No. I don't know."

"You don't know?"

She nods her denial.

"Okay. Okay, that’s fine.”  He says, perplexed. "Let's begin with what's bothering you?"

Mostly you. 

When she doesn't reply, he does actually come closer to where she sits.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me, Houzuki."

She looks at him over wet eyelashes, horrified at how her emotions were really out of control today. She swipes a hand across her eyes and avoids his concerned gaze. 

"I have a lot of things to think about." And you being unaware of my feelings or actively ignoring them really isn't helping. 

"That's a good start. Things like...?"

"Like how you're so casually avoiding everything that happened a mere two weeks ago." Before her mind catches up with her mouth, the words have been said and all she can do is slam a hand flush against her lips and hope to disappear into oblivion. 

The idea of Seppuku sounded very tempting right about now.

"I'm not."

"Not what?" She asks. 

"Not avoiding what happened that day,” He purses his lips. "I can't even if I want to."

She suddenly feels a whole lot more vulnerable, kneading fists into her lap. Oh great, she'd made everything even more awkward than it already was. He wasn't even looking at her. 

"Actually forget what I just said. I'm tired—" This is exactly why I needed alone time. "—with nationals coming and all."

"That's why I didn't mention it." He mumbles. 

"Mention what."

"That day... The confession..... Us. With nationals coming up, you'd want to focus on this. I know how passionate you are,”  His gaze softens. "I've always loved that about you."

The word sends a pleasant tingle down her spine. Us. We. Him and me. Love—

"You mean as a friend?"

"What?"

"Love me,” She repeats robotically. "As a friend."

He raises a brow, amused. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" He sighs, “Tetsuki, Glasses. Gosh, even Isaki." 

Satowa chokes on air. "I-Isaki-san knows?" 

"You're lucky you didn't have to answer her questions." His expression looks genuinely pained.

Satowa giggles at the image of Chika smothered by Isaki's bear hugs. His grin widens near impossibly at her. "It's been a while since you smiled normally at me. I've missed it."

"You've had your fair share of beautiful smiles, I think." The visual of girls batting their eyelashes at him turns her mouth sour. Chika is beautiful. She doesn't deserve him. "Enough for at least a decade."

"They aren't you.”

"No. They're better than me."

He looks at her, mouth hanging open like his jaw had unscrewed itself. "Do you genuinely believe that?"

She does. Satowa belonged from a boring world. She lived a mundane life; eating, practicing, sleeping, waking up, practicing, repeat. And Chika contrasted her completely, all wide amber eyes with an adventurous gleam in them.

She loved them so much, it was driving her crazy. And lately her obsession had gotten worse, not that she'd ever admit to it. 

"Did I make you feel that way..?" She wants to wipe the hurt off his face. Satowa rises off the floor, dusting her skirt off. 

I don't deserve you. 

"Don't pity me. I didn't want to push my feelings on you, either way. You saying I love you back there really saved me from the embarrassment. Thank you."

His jaw goes slack. His gaze remained glued to the floor as if it would turn to lava any minute.

He collects himself with a deep breath. "What about my behavior made you think I don't return your feelings?"

She doesn't understand the question. Because though Satowa had basically confessed her undying love and desire to stay by his side forever, she had not for once considered him feeling the same. 

So she shrugs, awkwardly. "I'm not worth the effort."

When his gaze lifts off the floor to meet hers, a chill runs up her spine. He looks conflicted, rubbing his neck in consideration . And somehow that makes her want to kiss him so bad her toes curl into themselves.

"You're not... worth the effort...” He reiterates, incredulous.

"Look I'm sorry for how things turned out,” She says, frantically trying to defuse the situation. "I can be a bullhead and say unnecessary things and this wasn't one of my brightest moments. So let's just forget this ever happened? Yeah?"

"How about no?” He replies, blankly. "I want to know what about that day and what the fuck about my confession made you think I haven't been in love with you for the longest time?"

"Look again, no need to—"

"No, you listen," He says, hovering dangerously close to her face, face dark with anger. “I meant what I said that day. I love you. Dammit—I ran back all the way because I was jealous out of my mind with scenarios of someone else finding you play, plus this room is soundproof and they could take advantage of that—like some petty idiot and here you are—"

"You what?” She asks, stunned. 

"—convincing me not to love you after you confessed first, by the way. You said you loved me—"

"Kudou...”

"No. Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, hot with anger. Well, hot in more ways than one. "You taught me that there was good in me, that I was redeemable in some way. Even though I've hurt people. I nearly killed Grandpa. "

"You know you didn't do it.” She consoles. 

 "Not until you came around, no. “He shakes his head. “Not until that day when you told me you wanted me to be happy, to not be hurt, to cherish me. Did the thought never cross your mind that maybe I felt the same?"

 She stares at him, blinking. No. It really hadn't because what really was lovable about her? She was a taciturn, obsessed Koto player that cared little outside of her small world.

Why would he—why would anyone love her?

"Oh my God,” He whispers. "You really didn't."

Satowa doesn't reply, she just feels small in front of his large frame towering over her.

"Th-that's because there's nothing you could see in me worth your while! I'm average looking at best, good at nothing except the instrument I've played since I was born. I haven't been on dates, I haven't...k-kissed... "

"Houzu—"

"I'm boring and dull and there's so many better people you could be spending time with because you're amazing and you're way too good looking to be wasting your time on me—"

"Houzuki listen to m—"

"And all these feelings you're feeling are temporary, just because I saved you. Maybe you're grateful for what I said—"

"Satowa."

She stills, both to the deep tone of his voice and the hand gripping her wrist firmly. Her vision goes all blurry; she can't really see him or anything around them, only feel his thumb stroking her palm in a continuous rhythm. 

"I'm sorry,” He says, finally. "I'm sorry I had no idea you've been feeling insecure this whole time. God, I really have my head way up my ass like Tetsuki says."

She laughs despite herself. She feels his hold tighten. 

"I never could imagine for a second that someone as perfect as you could feel this way."

“P-perfect?” 

"You've always been so balanced and confident, I thought I was the only one weighing my self-worth against your standards. I never felt enough for you because you're... You know, you; beautiful, brilliant, talented... I've been so stupid."

She purses her lips. "I'm really not what you make me out to be."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But does it really matter?" She looks up though her eyes felt like she'd doused them in vinegar. "You said you love me. And I definitely love you—no questions asked. Is that not enough for us both?"

"I....” She whispers. "You're right.... It should be."

He releases a long sigh. "So we've finally reached a conclusion?"

"I think.”

"That we may feel mutually undeserving but we still love each other and there's nothing we can do about that?"

"That sounds very embarrassing,” She hides her blush. "But yes."

"Okay. Good. Finally. "

The fingers curled around her wrist make Satowa feel something in the pit of her stomach, pulsating within as he draws closer into her space.

He wraps an arm around her waist, the other leaving her wrist to explore all the other places they could be. Up her arm, her shoulder, the crook of her neck, the flowing strands of her hair.

Satowa's lids drop, mouth opening in a small exhale. "What was that about the soundproof room?"

It's like her words flip a switch.

Instantly, he dives down to capture her lips, pulling her into him. She's so small in his arms, feeling the full height of him as if for the first time. Sensing her discomfort, he puts hands under her thighs, grabbing as she hops off the floor and into his grasp, ankles hooking behind his waist.

 "Jesus," he whispers, kissing down her neck like he'd devour her. "How are you so beautiful?"

She throws her head back, letting him nip at her skin. She'll be bruised by tomorrow, but nothing Hiro’s concealer can't hide. "I'm not..." She arches her back when his hands wander a little lower.

"Let me show you," he drawls, kissing her jaw up to her lips. "Let me show you just how beautiful you are to me."

Satowa's suddenly too warm in her blouse, holding her breath as the buttons fall open and his hands traverse inside, tracing the lines of her body. His palms are warm, thumb stroking the underside of her breast, raising goose bumps wherever he touches.

Her arms circle around his neck to sink into his hair, drawing him closer. Kudou walks them to a mahogany desk in the room, putting her carefully down as if she were spun of glass.

He breaks away to look into her eyes tentatively. Satowa whines, scrunching her face to appear as displeased as she feels. He laughs, pinching her nose. His finger moves over her features, swiping against her lips, her chin, her throat, her breast, her stomach.

Satowa's breath hitches in her throat.

Kudou looks at her through hooded eyelids. "Tell me to stop and I will," he says, turning his palm downward, pushing under the belt of her skirt. The expanse of his hand is the entire size of her waist; God, he's so large it's doing things to her. Satowa closes her eyes.

He cups her cheek with the other hand, gently lifting her chin to his gaze. “I need an answer."

She opens her mouth, tried to give him a verbal answer. When one finger touches her swollen lips, she can only manage a strangled moan before nodding furiously.

He goes painfully slow. So slow, that Satowa has to move herself to let him know she's strong enough to handle it. He doesn't relent.

"Kudou," she groans, opening her legs wider for him. "God, please I'm going to lose it."

Sensing her urgency, he puts another finger in. Satowa gasps, arching her back till she almost hits the desk. Kudou catches her in time, cradling her head softly.

He pumps slowly, letting the rhythm build within her. It's too much stimulation for her and Satowa bites back the sound threatening to rip its way out her throat.

He drags her arm away, shaking his head solemnly at her. "I want to hear you." He quickens his pace, drawing a shocked gasp from the girl. "I want to know what I'm doing to you."

"Please, please I'm —" Satowa throws her arm out like a child, begging for him to hold her. She doesn't know what she's feeling, but it’s strong, like a jug full to the brim. Like a chalice that's about to spill.

He responds immediately, wrapping one arm around her waist and holding her to his chest. The other hand goes faster and faster till Satowa bends, throwing her head back with a scream.

"Yes, yes. I'm so—" She's barely making any sense. "I don't know—I feel—yes, there, right there—" She pushes down on his fingers herself, feeling them touch a place that has her mouth hang open wordlessly.

Taking the cue, he searches for it and presses, deeper into her than before and Satowa screams, muscles rippling under her skin. She clenches her teeth, letting the wave send her body in a frenzy. It's over in a flash.

Satowa slumps in his arms, head thudding loudly against his chest. She's still for a moment.

"Hey." Kudou breaks the silence, wrapping an arm around her tighter. "You okay?"

She exhales, slowly blinking her eyes open to his worried gaze. Satowa taps on his shoulder, dragging him to her.

"Kiss." She commands like a petulant child. He replies, grinning, slowly rolling her lips into his mouth, rubbing her back in a motion that almost lulls her to sleep. 

"You're so beautiful," he says, playing with the strands of her hair that fall over his shirt. "The prettiest."

Satowa flushes, swatting at his hand before noticing something hard touch her core. She shudders on instinct, looking up at his sheepish gaze.

"We should...uhh...” Satowa offers vaguely, though she really doesn't know what to do.

"I'll...take care of it later." He replies, embarrassed.

"But we could—" He puts a finger over her lips, wincing in pain as she moves over him.

"Not yet," he groans, reaching down to kiss her desperately. "Today was just for you. I wanted you to see the depth of my feelings. Just what I want to do to you."

Her eyes darken again, she yanks him down by his collar, kissing a chain up his throat. He gulps.

"Then teach me next time," she touches the tent forming in his jeans. He whimpers, rubbing instinctively into her palm. "So I can understand what I want to do."

He nods frantically before moving away from her to breathe. It takes them both a moment to gather themselves before they decide to move. He helps Satowa off the table. Her feet wobble uncontrollably, an uncomfortable space forming between her legs. She grunts, smoothing the pleats of her skirt.

"Wanna play something?" Kudou gestures to the Koto, tapping at his watch. “We have another half hour left."

Though she'd love to just go up to her room and shower, Satowa can't deny the excitement in his eyes. She smiles. "Fifteen minutes."

His grin is the widest she's seen since the day he confessed.

They spend more of their time fooling around rather than really playing, not that Satowa minds.

Satowa doesn't really like sweet things, she concludes, unless it comes wrapped like a Christmas present under a tree in the form of a bright haired, bright smiled boy.

A candy named Kudou Chika.

#kono oto tomare! #kotedit #kudou chika #houzuki satowa #kot #dailykot #ao3 #fanfic #fbfw

[dark9896]

Cheater!! [Blurb Cannon]

Requested by Anonymous 😱

Klaus

A soft whimper escaped Klaus as he set up a nice candelabra, his whole relationship felt like it was off-kilter. A rather handsome-looking man had forced himself upon Klaus. While the gesture was flattering on its own, Klaus didn't have a chance to say that he was in a loving relationship.

And while there was no way for you to find out about this treachery, Klaus didn't like the idea of keeping such a relationship-breaking secret from you. Even if that meant he would be in the proverbial dog house.

But you were absolutely blindsided by the living room looking like Valentine's Day got drunk and Klaus was giving it a place to crash for the night. A pair of giant plush animals sat on either end of the couch, one a large brown bear and the other a tawny lion. Several vases of flowers dotted around the shelves, the little tea tiers nestled between them, and every one of them filled with treats you liked.

But Klaus was nowhere in sight, "Klaus? Hun? What happened to the living room?"

"Ah! Liebling!" Klaus's footsteps rushed up behind you, "I wasn't aware you'd be arriving home so soon."

Glancing up and down, Klaus was in a pink apron again. Something was seriously wrong.

"What happened?"

Klaus was breaking down just from how trusting you were. Completely forgetting that you didn't know about his unwilling betrayal. He just wanted to hear you yelling at him for kissing someone else, even if it wasn't his fault.

"Ah, well. I..." Was Klaus trying to shrink? Did he need to sit down? He wouldn't let you tug him over to the couch, "I'm afraid I was unfaithful. It was quite by accident I assure you. I just, I can't lie to you, Liebling. I'm so very sorry."

You stood there blinking, "Did you watch Ancient Magus Bride without me? I did tell you I've seen it once before, right?"

"Ah, no. That... that wasn't what I was referencing." Klaus couldn't look you in the eye anymore, "I... I kissed someone else. I didn't want to I swear! He... he forced himself onto me!"

Tilting your head up at Klaus had him trembling like a nervous puppy. He couldn't tell what you were thinking just yet. Were you gearing up to yell at him? Klaus would gladly accept his punishment...

You couldn't help but laugh, "So someone else finally came to their senses huh?"

"Wh-what do you mean Liebling?"

Smirking up at him, you had to lean up on tiptoes. Kissing his cheek, "I mean that someone else sees how handsome you are."

The bright red blush across Klaus's face was adorable, as he attempted to figure out how to respond. This didn't make much sense to him. You had to be pulling his leg, surely. Yes?

.

Steven

Oh, he shouldn't have done this. He should not have done this.

But Steven needed a plus one to get into this event, to get close to the target. A very attractive woman, in a technical sense. Steven would argue until his face was blue as Zed's that you were far more attractive. Even so, this was the job that Steven was uniquely qualified for.

Zapp's idea of flirting would give away the plan all too soon. And no one else was smooth enough to get such detailed information. The more Steven thought about it, he should have asked K.K. or Chain to help with this. Both would be able to keep this secret from you after all.

This was nerve-racking, trying to keep you away from the target. Somehow this was doing wonders for the target. She thought Steven was being fun and flirty, playing hard to get and not hiding his job from his lover.

And then everything hit at once. You caught Steven red-handed, quite literally with his hands on her waist. There wasn't any way that you'd mistake what was going on... but you turned without a single reaction.

Somehow this worked better in Steven's favor? He was getting the target trying to seduce him instead. What was it with attractive women all wanting to be homewreckers? He was so torn about what to do right now. Would you forgive him for this? Would you hold a grudge? What did he need to do to explain? How long did he have to find you?

.

Leo

"Oooooh" You leaned over Leo's shoulder, "Should I be worried?"

Pushing you away with a heavy blush was all Leo could do. Stashing his phone away as fast as he could, but failing miserably as his phone fell to the ground with a clatter. He tried to scramble for the device, but you were more than capable of swiping his phone.

"I mean, I don't blame you." You kept teasing, "I wouldn't say no to Angelina Jolie either buuuuuut."

"[Name]!" Leo was being held back easily as he tried to grab his phone, "Please? It isn't like that!"

"Sure it isn't Leo." You snickered, "That's why you have so many pictures of her and Sofiya Vergara?"

"C'mon! You know I couldn't pull them!"

You weren't even taking this seriously, the number of times the both of you had teased each other over celebrity crushes was unreal. But it was far too funny to not poke fun at each other over it.

"I'm gonna tell your boss!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Don't tempt me."

"[Name]! C'mon! Can I at least have my phone back?"

"Why? So you can talk to your girlfriend?"

Leo leaned his head back in a soft yelling growl. The situation was only salvaged by Leo's phone going off. Though trying to control his voice was still difficult, and Leo didn't want to explain what you were doing much less why.

.

Zapp

This had to be why people say "It's worse than being caught with your pants down". Zapp was scrambling to catch you before you could leave. He didn't think that you'd be getting home so quickly. And he knew that you weren't okay with an open relationship. Which was why he was so adamant about sneaking around.

"Humph." The girl wearing his shirt no longer appealed to Zapp, "You really don't love him enough. Since you won't even fight for him."

"Hey!" Zapp half-glared, "Shut it--"

"No, I guess I don't." You ignored Zapp to talk to her, "But then again, I set very clear boundaries that he knowingly crossed."

"Oh really? You have boundaries? With someone as hot as Zapp?" She was holding in dark chuckles, "And you really thought he would listen to you?"

Zapp could only stand there, mouth agape as he at least kept between you two to avoid a nasty catfight. Seeing you look like that had him at a loss for words. You weren't just upset, you were done.

There was nothing Zapp could do at this point...

.

Zed

Seeing you angrily and despondently chopping vegetables in the kitchen had Zed curious. He wasn't sure what to try to do, since there was no other indication of what might be on your mind. And that worried Zed, you usually listened to music or watched something while you did things.

"[Name]?" Zed tapped the doorframe with one claw, "Is everything okay?"

The way you were shaking had Zed on high alert, "I just. I wonder about things."

"What kind of things?" Zed approached slowly, no matter how much he trusted you, there was still a knife in your hands, "Is it something I can help with?"

You struggled with how to actually say what was on your mind. You wanted to believe that Zed loved you and you alone. But having seen how he was with a coworker on the news. Was it even something you should call out?

A slightly cold hand gripped your shoulder, "[Name], you can always confide in me. What's on your mind?"

"I saw you on the news." You sighed, "And how you were being with one of your coworkers. If he is just a coworker."

Zed blinked a couple times, "You mean Leo? He isn't exactly a fighter, so someone has to keep an eye on him. Especially when our enemies target him."

The guilt hit like a baseball bat to the stomach. You didn't want to think Zed would ever be like that, but you still... Turning from Zed was all you could think to do. But he had other priorities.

"I don't blame you for thinking that way. It is a common mistake." Zed hesitated in hugging you, "Remember when your old friend came to the city for a visit?"

Zed didn't budge when your head hit his chest, only moving to rub your back in comforting circles. He didn't know how to fully comfort you over this, especially when you'd been so dismissive when the shoe had been on the other foot. He didn't want you to keep beating yourself up for the simple mistake of not knowing a person close to himself.

Though it was comforting when you tried hanging onto him in an apology hug.

#bbb #kkss #kekkai sensen #blood blockade battlefront #klaus von reinherz #steven starphase #zed o'brien #zapp renfro #leonardo watch #ask

[ryqoshay]

Melody Air - Fly High: Roses

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Rating: G Words: 1k Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki AU: Airline Time Frame: Sometime after the main story Event: Femslash February 2023 Event Source: @femslashfeb Prompt: Rose

---------

Author’s Note: It’s still the 9th somewhere in the world...

Summary: Ayumu has Valentine’s gifts for Yuu and Setsuna

Reminder: Melody Air is a regional airline headquartered at Haneda (closest airport to Odaiba.) Setsuna is a pilot. Ayumu is a flight attendant. Yuu works in the control tower.

---------

“Happy Valentine’s, Yuu-chan, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu said holding out two small vases with contents hidden by sleeves of red paper.

“Thank you, Ayumu-san.” Setsuna said, accepting her gift. “Did you get us flowers?”

“Not just any flowers…” Yuu grinned.

“Yuu-chan…” Ayumu scolded gently.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Yuu replied, looking nowhere near apologetic, rather she seemed far more excited to see Setsuna’s reaction.

Honestly, Ayumu couldn’t blame Yuu for anticipating their girlfriend’s reaction, as she was anxious for it as well. It came as no surprise that Yuu had managed to stumble across Ayumu’s gift giving plans. She had a knack for figuring out Ayumu’s secrets, and it didn’t help that Ayumu always let her guard down around her childhood friend. So now they both wanted to see Setsuna’s surprise.

“Can we open them?” Setsuna asked, her hand already ready to pull off the sleeve.

“Of course.” Ayumu smiled.

With great care, likely more than was necessary, Setsuna slowly slid the paper off her bouquet.

“A… Ayumu-san…” The sense of wonder was clear in Setsuna’s tone. “Did you make these?” Her eyes practically sparkled.

“Yes.” Ayumu confirmed.

“They’re beau… wait…”

Ah, she noticed. Ayumu thought to herself as she glanced over quickly to see Yuu’s anticipation mounting alongside her own.

Setsuna pulled the flowers in for closer inspection. Sticking out from the red paper petals of each flower was an array of multicolor petals of differing shapes and sizes. Setsuna touched one gently with the end of her finger. Ayumu could see the gears spinning in her head as she inspected another flower before comparing it to the first.

“Are these… wind roses?” Setsuna finally asked.

Yuu giggled. “I told ya she’d figure it out.” She nudged Ayumu’s arm.

“This one is Haneda’s, right?” Setsuna indicated the first flower she had inspected. “And this one is Hakodate.” She indicated the one she had used for comparison.

“You’re right on both.” Ayumu nodded.

“So that means…” Setsuna scanned the bouquet. “These are all off the airports serviced by Melody Air.”

“We have a winner!” Yuu cheered.

“Ayumu-san this…” Tears brimmed Setsuna’s eyes. “These are amazing…”

“Woah there, I got them…” Yuu snatched the vase out of Setsuna’s hand.

Setsuna surged forward and threw her arms around Ayumu.

“Thank you, Ayumu-san!” Setsuna cried happily, bouncing a little with excitement. “I love them! It’s such a creative gift! How did you come up with such a wonderful idea?”

“I was just trying to think about how to combine your love of airplanes and flying with Valentine’s Day.” Ayumu explained as she returned her girlfriend’s hug. “And somehow the idea of wind roses stuck, so I made wind rose roses.”

“Well I really love them.” Setsuna repeated, pulling away just enough that she could regain eye contact, but not out of the embrace. “Ooo… I wish I had a desk or something at work where I could display them. I don’t think it would be a good idea to have something like this in Hashiri.” She mentioned the plane she usually flew for the airline.

“You might be able to find a place for one.” Yuu suggested. “Their stems are pipe cleaners, so you wrap it around something. Or…” she giggled at her idea, “maybe you can secure it to your cap.”

Ayumu could tell immediately that the pilot was seriously considering the idea. “She’s joking, Setsuna-chan.” She pointed out, suddenly worried she might be responsible for her girlfriend being reprimanded for unprofessional attire. “I’m sure you can find somewhere to display one in the cockpit, so long as it doesn’t violate any safety regulations.”

“Or maybe in Chaser?” Yuu named the Cessna Setsuna owned.

“I didn’t think about that airport.” Ayumu voiced her realization.

“It’s more of an airstrip, honestly.” Yuu pointed out. “But there’s a more official word for it…”

“Aerodrome?” Setsuna asked.

“Yeah, that.”

“It still has a wind rose though. That’s what they use to align the runways in a more optimal design, instead of the old triangle system. It was a really clever tactic and is what helped make larger airports possible.”

Ayumu decided not to point out the fact that she had just read about the history of wind roses in relation to the history of aviation when she was side tracked in trying to find the designs of the various airports served by Melody Air. She loved watching Setsuna while she excitedly shared information about things that interested her. She would never let a little thing like already knowing what Setsuna was talking about spoil her enjoyment of her girlfriend’s passion.

“Perhaps I can make one for Chaser?” Ayumu offered. “One based on the aerodrome where she’s stored?”

“You’d be willing to do that?” Setsuna’s eyes widened.

“Very much so.”

“Thank you, Ayumu-san, but… then that would mean I have one more than Yuu-san.”

At that, Yuu burst out laughing. “Don’t worry about that, Setsuna-chan.” She dismissed with a wave. “We can call it even because I will be able to display mine at my station at work.”

“Are you sure?” Setsuna remained unconvinced.

Yuu chuckled again and set both vases down on the table near her. She then approached the other two women and joined in the hug. “If you’re really still worried, just take Ayumu and I flying again soon.”

“Alright.”

“And maybe tonight, we can watch something about wind roses? I would love to learn more about my gift.”

“There’s a great documentary about the history of runway design.”

“Sounds like a plan. And before that, dinner.”

At that, it was Ayumu’s turn to laugh. As much as she knew Yuu had been looking forward to Setsuna’s reaction to the wind roses, she was also anticipating a good meal for the holiday.

“I’ll get started on that.” Ayumu said, starting to detach herself.

“I’ll help.” Yuu and Setsuna said, nearly in unison.

“Alright. Thank you, Setsuna-chan, Yuu-chan.”

Finally, after the trio exchanged affirmations of their love for one another, they headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: I wanted to take a bit of a different approach to the prompt than what may have been expected or is stereotypical or whatever; I mean the wind roses were still part of actual paper roses, bust still...

And I must thank YouTube for recommending I rewatch CGP Grey’s pair of recent airline videos that ended up being the inspiration for this chapter.

And now I want to rewatch them again...

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Melody Air #femslashfeb2023 #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

[usopp-writes]

Valentines Day preperations

So yeah, this just came to me and wouldn't let me go, so enjoy this little drabble, while waiting for my brain to be ready to answer my asks.

"I'm getting worried about Thatch."

Marco looked up from the book - Herbs and how to use them - he was reading and at the masked man sitting across him. Deuce couldn't tell if the older man was bored, stresed or relaxed, the drowsy and stoic expression on Marco's face was constant and the masked man hadn't seen many expression on the phoenix's face since they were forcefully 'adopted' by the Whitebeard Pirates.

"What have you observed, yoi?" Marco hadn't noticed anything unusual about the cook, so he was curious to know what the younger man had seen.

"Well, I know he usually works a lot, but the past week and a half, he's almost always in the kitchen, barely leaves between meals or after clean up at night. I'm worried about his stress level."

Marco nodded, the worries completely understandable. "It's because it's almost Valentines Day, yoi." He was about to turn his attention back to his bok, when he noticed the confused expression on Deuce's face. Oh, right. The Spade pirates had been adopted a few months back, so they didn't know the yearly routine yet.

"You do know what Valentines Day is, right, yoi?" Marco didn't feel like explaining the special day, though he would, if needed. To his relief, Deuce nodded. "Good. Here, it's a day of love and appreciation. It's a day where all will get just a little extra attention, no matter your relationship status. Thatch starts two weeks ahead with the preparatons, making sweets and treats for everyone, while also manage his daily routines. He can handle the extra pressure, as he is doing what he loves. Using his cooking skills to make others happy. You'll see on Valentines Day why he's so busy, I don't want to spoil the surprise for you, but it's something you can look forward to, yoi."

Deuce did feel himself getting curiou sand excited. He'd already noticed how much this family loved and cared for each other, so a day where it would be shown even more, sounded like something even Ace would appreciate.

"Is that why Izo also looks busier than usual?" Now the masked man thought about it, the sniper had been gracefully moving faster and had little time for chit chat.

A chuckled left the older man. "Well, a celebration of love and appriciation can't go unnoticed wherever you ar eon the ship, can it? He's working on getting the decoartion ready, as each year, it'll always somehow get somewhat destroyed, yoi."

Right. Celbration decoration. Deuce should have thought of that himself, knowing that Izo always was in charge of any form for decoration for the various celebration the crew had.

"Guess I worry for no reason then." He mumbled, a little ashamed.

Smiling softly, Marco placed the book on the table. "You worry because you care and that is never nothing. I'm happy you noticed it and voiced your concern. I can trust you to help me out. Always feel free to ask anything, as it'll take some time to understand the routines we have, yoi."

Marco's words of encouragement, his kindness and understanding, made Deuce feel better. The phoenix was right, he still had so much to learn about their routines, so he would keep asking. It was nice to know that he was taken serious and that his feelings were acknowledged. That he, as a person and a doctor, was seen and respected by the older man and doctor. This was what family was really about.

#my drabble #valentines day preperation #deuce #marco #chat in the infirmary

[outoftheirdifferences]

❤️ (talesofourworlds, some homemade sugar cookies shaped like hearts from Edna because friends deserve Valentine's presents too!)

VALENTINE’S DAY PROMPTS! - ❤️: give a gift to my muse.  (specify.) @talesofourworlds

Wide hazel eyes grew wider than normal at being offered the gift, and for once the girl found herself at a loss for words. This was... this was altogether new to her. And while Vanellope knew that she should hardly be surprised that having her first friend came with new experiences, well...

She tore open the gift, as if afraid it would vanish if she didn't get to the heart of it as quickly as she possibly could.

Her expression lit up at the sight of the cookies within. Clearly homemade, if she was any connoisseur at all, which of course only made them even better... one might think, with the amount of candy and such that she already indulged in regularly, that one more sweet treat would hardly be a big deal for Vanellope, but...

Firstly, NEVER. And secondly, even if that was somehow the case, clearly her newfound best friend had put a lot of care into these and that was never to be thought little of. All the same, she strove to play it casual.

"An' here, I always thought the only thing Valentine's was good for was the cut-price chocolate the day after."

She couldn't keep it up, let a genuine smile creep across her face.

"But these're... well, they look pretty amazing. Thanks. And I bet they taste even better," she enthused, her voice regaining its usual bounce once again. "Seriously, I can't wait to try 'em!"

#talesofourworlds #the adorable winner [vanellope] #v; the unwanted kid #ic #meme response #Thaaaanks for this! :3

[njmverse]

Love, On Air | #17

summary: when you return to ever after high for your spring semester to be met with a new roommate, you weren't expecting it to be your #1 rival, lee donghyuck. things escalate when he tries to steal your thunder as a matchmaker during valentine's month. as you navigate your new dorm life with a new roommate, you soon realise your title as cupid isn’t the only thing being stolen away by him.

↳ roommates/rivals to lovers , eah! au

genre: fluff, a little angst

wordcount: 3k+

warnings/rating: PG-15, swearing

[ warnings in other chapters may differ. ]

a/n: this took longer than it was supposed to but!! here it is!!

taglist is closed

[ taglist will be added in the reblogs]

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DONGHYUCK has never felt such panic coursing through his veins since the time he had to announce his presentation to the entire class in his first year at Ever After High—and that was exactly two years ago. It's safe to say he's grown to face much more nerve-wracking incidents since then to be unfazed by most instances that take place around him.

Yet, all it took to keep all his defenses on high alert and make him run through the hallways and across the campus to reach his dorms was one single tweet from his rival—his roommate who he has previously claimed to be the absolute bane of his existence. Perhaps the definitions for that phrase seem to be changing for him, along with his mixed feelings about Cupid.

“Cupid?” He calls out as he swings open the door to the dorms, breathing heaving after practically sprinting through the campus and face heating up from the unprompted adrenaline rush. “Are you in there?”

He isn't sure if it's the anxiousness of not knowing if you're okay after seeing that cryptid tweet or the effects of exceeding his capabilities of running as fast as he can that's making him feel like he's on the tip of his toes and his heart feel like it's about to drop to his stomach.

He calls out again when he doesn't get a response from you—this time he calls out to you by your real name and something starts to feel and move differently inside your chest as you register his voice and how your name feels so foreign yet something that strangely feels so right on his tongue. You'd listen to the call of your name from his lips every other day, even if you're used to people addressing you as cupid, only a select few call you by your real name.

Strangely enough, you're so shocked by him saying your name that you momentarily forget that you're currently trapped under his stupid curtain divider contraption too. Your heart fogs up your thoughts for a while and you're unable to make out a single coherent thought except one:

“Hyuck?”

You don't know where it came from or why it stayed, but that nickname left a stain on your lips like no other—at this point, it's second nature. Like it comes naturally from you like that's how it always has been. “Hyuck, is that you?”

Donghyuck feels his shoulders relax as if the dreaded weight of the worst possible scenario was weighing down on them. Knowing you're still able to talk and reply to him while being trapped inside—under his curtain divider gives him some sort of peace he didn't know he was looking for.

He makes quick work of getting to where you are and an involuntary gasp leaves his lips as he sees the state you're in: completely hidden under the thin fabric of the curtain and the hinges all lying on the floor, somehow the rest of the fabric has tangled all around you and you're flailing your arms around in desperation. The glow of your phone in your lap tells him you somehow managed to type out a distress signal on a tweet while stuck.

“This is unbelievable,” he laughs heartily, so hard tears are brimming on the edge of his eyes at the hilarity of this entire situation. “You—you, how did you even manage to get trapped in it? What the fuck were you trying to do?”

“Well sue me that this stupid thing fell on top of me when I tried to fix it!” You defend yourself, arms crossed against your chest and a pout on your lips. How adorable. The thought passes by Hyuck's mind at the sight of you under the thin fabric of the curtain. “A little help here, please?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” he says even though he has already begun to help you get out of there and off the floor. Finding the ends of the cloth, he slowly finds his way to pull it off of you while also untangling the hinges that trapped you under, all the while with a silly smile on his face and shaking his head at your antics. “What will you do without me?”

“Probably would be doing much better, if you ask me.” You lie through your teeth. You actually had no idea how you were going to get yourself out if it wasn't for him showing up. Calling up school services and explaining how you've managed to get stuck under a curtain divider collapsing is not something you want under your reputation around the school.

“How did you even manage to do this?”

Hyuck asks you, unaware of how he's gotten too close to you under the mess of the curtain while trying to get you out of it. So close that if he looked up from what he's doing he'd be face to face with you, neither of you realizing the lack of distance between your bodies.

“I don't know how, I just…just did.” You breathe in sharply as you turn your head just to find yourself face to face with Donghyuck. He's close—too close. He's so close that you can actually count all the moles on his face or pinpoint each thing that would count as a flaw in people's eyes and you find none.

There is absolutely no flaw in Lee Donghyuck’s face as you're so up close staring at him, so much so that your heart does that little spin and jump that it does before it falls and as you find your eyes trained at his honey brown ones, that sinking feeling that you've been afraid of pinning down whips out its wings and takes its first flight.

You might be falling for Lee Donghyuck. Or maybe you already are—maybe you already have.

Hyuck feels like his breath gets caught in his throat as he feels yours tickle his cheek and the odd sensation in his stomach rises again, heart skipping around in his chest and a fleeting feeling tickling his entire chest. He feels like he's flying and falling all at the same time and maybe he has officially lost it but he feels like he probably won't mind drowning forever if he can keep staring so deeply in your eyes. And as much as he wants to, he can't help but sneak a glance at your lips, thoughts mush and head empty as his gaze switches ever so lightly and a thought that he never thought would cross his mind plagues his brain.

He's face to face with his so-called rival. Close as one can be, so close that your faces are mere inches away from each other and the only rational thought that passes his mind is the one of what would it be like to kiss you. Is it normal to think like this or is he in some sort of spell?

Were you always this enchanting up close or did he just never really bother to look at you?

You two stay like that for quite a few minutes in the middle of your room: curtains splayed around you two as you two are face to face with each other, gazes discreetly switching to the other's lips for just a split second before they're back to where your eyes are. Hyuck isn't even sure if he's breathing right now or if you are aware of the position you two find yourselves in right now.

For a moment, having Hyuck up so close and right in front of you blurs out all the other thoughts in your head and before you know it, you find yourself leaning in dangerously close. Merely a hair's breadth away from kissing your oh-so-infuriating rival. And maybe you were imagining things at this point but you could've sworn you saw Hyuck leaning in too.

And just as you were seconds away from kissing your roommate—your rival and sending everything around you in a frenzy, your phone buzzes loudly from where it sat abandoned in your lap. The sound was so loud inside the dead silent room that it breaks whatever haze you and Hyuck have found yourself mesmerized in and you pull away immediately.

He coughs into his fist awkwardly as he scurries away from you, maintaining a few feet distance while dragging along the curtain with him and over the top of your head, freeing you from the supposed trap. Hyuck’s entire face is burning up, the rush creeping in and down his neck as it flushes a faint pink on his now sun-kissed skin. Even in this faint sunlight that passes through the open window in the late afternoon, sun rays falling over his head, he still managed to look breathtaking. Quite literally.

You blink back a few times to register whatever just happened, or was about to happen if it wasn't for the text notification from your phone from Jaemin. Of course, it's a text from Jaemin. You think to yourself as you quickly get off the floor and dust your clothes from the imaginary dust staining them just so you don't have to face the elephant in the room and Hyuck.

Deciding to stare at your phone instead, you catch a glimpse of the time and curse out loud. It's been twenty minutes since the time you were supposed to meet up with Jaemin for the fake date at Hocus Latte and here you were, embarrassed and unable to make eye contact with your roommate.

The said roommate who you were about to share a kiss with if it wasn't for Jaemin's text breaking the moment. You wonder what would have gone down if your phone's loud buzzing hadn't distracted you two and the thought doesn't necessarily send unpleasant shivers down your spine.

“Fuck. I'm late to my date, oh my goodness.”

You mumble rapidly as you start to pick up your things around the room as Hyuck stands in the middle of the room, the end of the curtain that has now collapsed in his hand and a dumbfounded expression as he watches you hurriedly try to get ready on time.

“W-what?” He blurts out.

You pause to look Hyuck in the eye and it makes your stomach do that weird flip again. “I’m sorry to bother you but I need to leave. I'm getting late here.”

Pushing away your feelings and the sudden revelation you went through, you scurry past the room leaving a confused Donghyuck standing in the middle of your dorm—collapsed remains of his curtain divider in hand and his heart in yours.

He wonders if you'll be the one to break it or leave it astray as you left him alone in the room just now.

And watching your figure disappear through the doors, Lee Donghyuck finally admits the impending doom and the truth that knocked the wind out of him just moments ago.

Lee Donghyuck has fallen for you. His rival, his roommate, and his best friend’s date.

“My fate really hates me, doesn't it?”

♡♡♡

“What took you so long?”

“I’m fucked.” You reply bluntly to the question Jaemin threw at you as soon as you took a seat in front of him at the table. “God, Jaemin, I want to punch myself right now. You won't believe how fucked I am right now, I wish I could unrealize what I just realized.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I'm the last person to whom you want to say that to, okay? I literally dragged you into a fake date cause I was the one who fucked up—you can't have two fucked up people helping each other!”

“Stop being right!”

“As if that's my fault now!” He huffs as you put your lips in a thin line and nod hesitantly. He's not wrong. God, why was he not wrong?

“Listen….just, just put your hand over mine on the table and smile at me, alright?” You instruct as you find Cerise reach the table where a nervously smiling Sungchan sits from across yours.

“Okay,” he replies slowly, awkwardly putting his hand over yours on the table and smiling before he drops it immediately.

You blink back up at him, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. “What's wrong?”

“Don’t look back, but I think I see Hyuck sitting two tables behind to your left.”

“What?” you sputter out in disbelief, head turning back immediately and your heart drops at the sight that your eyes catch with no delay. The familiar head of brown chestnut hair poking out of a beanie and what seems like fake glasses and a moustache—it's painfully obvious that it's Hyuck in a disguise and you would've laughed at his getup if it wasn't for how sick you feel in the stomach as of now. “What the actual fuck does he think he's doing? A moustache, seriously? In a school with a bunch of teenagers?”

“Well, what were you expecting? It's Hyuck, after all. And I told you to not look behind you! We're trying to be subtle here!” Jaemin scolds you as you turn back to him.

“Says you. Your face literally paled at the sight of him.”

“This isn't the time to be calling me out, stop.” He smiles as he mumbles it to you. “We need to make him believe this is an actual date or he'll never let me live after this.”

“Alright, alright.” You shake your head as you get to work, putting up your best facade as you feel eyes at the back of your head.

And as the minutes tick by to hours in your fake date the dreadful feeling gnaws at the back of Hyuck’s throat each time he hears your laugh at something that was probably stupid that Jaemin said. His humor was better anyway, right?

Meanwhile, Sungchan manages to hit it off with Cerise surprisingly well for someone who was sweating bullets at the aspect of going on a blind date with their longtime crush. So well that Donghyuck hasn't paid any attention to their table as they share smiles and talk about each other as they get to know each other well.

Cerise has never felt so comfortable with someone—let alone on a blind date and maybe Sungchan’s cute little smile does make her smile a little more than it should.

Donghyuck hates feeling this way. Telling himself he's here to make sure his matchmaking biz sails smoothly while sneaking glances far away from Sungchan’s table and to yours.

The scowl on his face grows deeper and visibly disapproving each time Jaemin does something that makes you laugh. In fact, he's starting to get tired of even seeing Jaemin's face so he opts to quietly stare at yours, hand fiddling with the straw in his cup that's almost empty at this point.

Donghyuck is aware of the fact that the initial reason he entered the cafe was for something that has long been settled, without his need to interfere in between or guidance being needed and yet he can't find it in himself to get his ass out and away from this place even though he knows he should.

He sighs as he shakes his head. What are you doing Donghyuck? Clutching the drink in his hand that's now empty, he stands all too abruptly from the table. He needs to get a grip on himself and he can't just put his feelings before his friendship—Jaemin is his best friend first before anything else. His job here is done anyway, from a glance at Sungchan’s table, the date he had planned seemed to be going well and that's enough for his consciousness and reputation to accept and let him rest at ease.

But nothing around him lets his heart rest in peace. Not when he sees you enjoying yourself on a date with his best friend, unaware of how you hold his heart in your possession—or the fact that it'll probably break into pieces if you keep holding on to it by the edges, dangling it dangerously close, so close that the fall is near each passing second.

But what Donghyuck doesn't realize is that he's already fallen, and there's no going back to how it used to be when feelings interfere.

“This year's party better be the best one yet because I feel like I've had to do a lot more than I should've,” you speak as you lean back in your seat for a moment, shoulders relaxed as you slowly watch Jaemin scroll through the tablet you brought with you—because he forgot his laptop. “True Heart's Day ball preparations are starting to stress me out a bit.”

Jaemin waves his hand, brushing off your concerns as he flashes you a smile. “You've got the best party planner on your team, no need to worry about anything. Let the expert handle this, cupid.”

“Well, you better cause I don't think I can—not with how my mind is all over the place right now…”

“Why’s that? You can talk to me if something's bothering you, I don't know if I can be of help but I can always listen, you know?”

You contemplate your options for a minute before you sigh and decide to just let it out, it's better to have some weight lifted off your head than carry it around like impending doom on your shoulders.

Heaving out a sigh, you confess what’s been on your mind—something that's been plaguing your thoughts more often now that the realization dawns over you. “I think….I think I like Hyuck.”

Jaemin blinks at your words, unfazed. And for a moment you think he's going to be shocked when the words register in his mind but he just tilts his head in confusion as he replies, “okay, and?”

“What? What do you mean ‘okay, and?’ Did you not hear me?”

“I heard you just fine, what I'm trying to say is—what about it? Isn't it pretty obvious you've grown much more fond of Hyuck for your proclaimed rivalry?”

You sputter. “It is?”

“You’re the most obvious person in this place, cupid. But don't worry, you're not the only one.” He laughs it off as he selects the few decoration designs you finalized and places the order. “Love surely is in the air, huh?”

“You’re too cryptid sometimes, do you know that?” You remark as you hear a shuffling noise behind you, hurried footsteps nearing before someone passes by you so swiftly you feel the air beside you almost knock you out.

“I think I know a lot more than I should be knowing right now.” Jaemin mumbles under his breath as his eyes follow the figure that whisked past your table and a small smile pulls at his lips as he recognizes the familiar figure of his best friend rushing out of Hocus Latte.

“What the hell was that?”

“I think the fake date plan worked a bit too well.”

© njmverse 2022 [ all rights reserved ]

#donghyuck smau #donghyuck x reader #neoturtles #celesteves #nct dream x reader #nct dream smau #haechan smau #haechan x reader #nct dream scenarios #donghyuck fluff #haechan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios #nct x reader #nct smau #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios

[todoscript]

sweetest delight

SYNOPSIS: While Shouto’s out hunting down villains on Valentine’s Day, you try your hand at making some sweets to celebrate the occasion, and in doing so, find your efforts rewarded in more ways than one.

pairing: pro hero!todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: smut. fluff. pro hero au.

word count: 7.3k+

warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. apron kink. praising. oral (both receiving). face-sitting. 69. cum-eating.

author’s note: god, this is long overdue, but i finally got this thing out after all this time. and of course, it ended up getting out of hand again

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–”

A range of curses spewed from your mouth as the unpleasant smell of your burnt confections permeated the space of your kitchen, threatening to notify the fire alarm overhead of your latest baking mishap. Luckily, you entered the kitchen just in time to dissipate the smoke before it can do so, fanning your towel while navigating to the oven to find your crisp, blackened sweets already ruined inside. The corners of your lips slipped into a scowl at another failed batch of mini chocolate cupcakes at your hand. You slid on a pair of oven mitts to transfer the set off the rack and onto the kitchen counter.

A flicker of optimism in your head presented the thought that they didn’t seem that bad at first glance, going so far as to believe they might’ve tasted relatively fine and that the burnt parts simply added a bitter flavor that would balance the overall sweetness of the decadent chocolate cupcakes. But upon closer inspection, you knew you were lying to yourself.

Flipping the miniature cakes out of the molds, you discovered the sweets were encased in a dreary black outer shell, a sight which made you grimace, wondering how you screwed up so badly to have concocted such a dismal image. You definitely had no right feeding these to Shouto, let alone offer them to him as a Valentine’s Day gift.

As everyone knew, the fourteenth day of February marked Valentine’s Day, the day where couples expressed their love to one another by giving gifts, spending quality time through dates, and displaying many other forms of affection. This year, however, Shouto was called in at his agency to investigate a case of villains whose plan was to wreak havoc on this special occasion.

Now, any person would find it normal to be peeved over these circumstances—having their lover’s free time eaten up by work when they could be celebrating together with a nicely lit dinner or a casual, romantic night at home, and perhaps cap off a wonderful evening with a smooth transition into the bedroom. Much better than spending a day at home alone, pitifully watching couples intertwine their hands together in envy as they walked along the sidewalk beneath your apartment complex, right?

Well, you, on the other hand, were a different case. Rather than sulk around as you waited for Shouto to arrive home later, you decided this would be the perfect chance to whisk up some sweets to surprise him. After all, what’s Valentine’s Day without some chocolate delights on the side, made with vanilla, sugar, cocoa butter, and lots of love and effort. A perfect way to welcome Shouto home from his mission while honoring the festivities, you’d say.

Besides, you understood the situation well enough to recognize that the citizens’ well-being came first before any date of yours. Your boyfriend was a hero, after all, and a Pro at that. It’s not as if you and Shouto hadn’t celebrated Valentine’s Day together before. So long as he came home—intact—prior to the clock ticking to midnight, one day didn’t bother you.

Though… after witnessing the aftermath of several failed attempts at baking thus far, you started to wonder if it would’ve done you better not to get so involved, only to waste resources and pervade your kitchen with an acrid smell.

Still, despite the trials and tribulations, you were determined to come out on top. You tapped your index finger repeatedly against the surface of the marbled counter. “Did I mix up the baking times? Maybe I undermined the portion sizes so the cupcakes started cooking faster?” you speculated out loud, wondering how to troubleshoot the minor errors to come out successful in your next attempt.

After some thought, you decided not to dawdle on your overthinking for too long and shrugged off the idea of redoing another batch of cupcakes. “It’s fine, I’ll just move onto the chocolates then. They’re the star of Valentine’s Day so better to focus on those,” you told yourself. A grin found its way on your face as you rolled the sleeves of your blouse up your forearms. “Alright, let’s get to it then!”

You retrieved a recipe sheet from across the counter, scanning through the contents while overlooking the ingredients lying in front of you. Compared to baking cupcakes, chocolates should be easier to tackle since you weren’t entirely making them from scratch. All you had to do is temper the chocolate melts in a bowl over a heat source, pour them into silicone molds, and refrigerate until hardened and shaped to the perfect, bite-sized delight. Seemed simple enough.

.

.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as simple as you thought.

Or rather, you chose to make the whole process more complicated than it needed to be, not realizing the ambitious turn your take on these chocolates was moving toward until you drove yourself into another mess.

Your first trial of bonbons was sprawled out over parchment paper, waiting for your verdict. Eyes roaming the array of sweets tentatively, you absorbed the mixture of pink and white hues with an unsure look on your face. Somehow during the process, you opted to forgo the customary milk chocolates for white and strawberry, which was the closest you could get to matching Shouto’s signature hair colors.

You’d thought it’d be cute for the treats to have a slight resemblance to him as a simple yet sweet reminder that he was on your mind throughout your progress. But staring down at the final product, you wished you guessed ahead of time that the vision you sparked in your head was not going to be as bright and pretty in comparison to what came out.

You frowned at the batch with narrowed brows before begrudgingly scooping a piece and tossing it into your mouth. The sweetness of the strawberry and white chocolates coexisted together to form a smooth texture that left behind a creamy, floral undertone on your tongue. What was incredibly lacking, however, laid in the looks department. The visuals left… more to be desired, to say the least.

With the idea of wanting to use two different flavors of chocolate, you also played on the notion of incorporating a theme. That theme being half-and-half. And half-and-half being splitting the colors on the chocolates right down the middle.

Though not a complicated plan for an adept baker, it was the exact opposite for a newbie like you who had came up with the idea on the spot. With your chocolates appearing in odd shapes and sizes, not one seemed to resemble another, which was the result of both your lack of patience and miscalculations. You had to allow one of the flavors to harden in the mold before adding the other to not prematurely mix the colors, but judging by the swirls of pink and white surrounding the chocolates, that didn’t seem to go so well. Add on to the fact you had some trouble inverting them out of the silicon molds—the edges of the chocolates ending up smooshed or torn off entirely—and you were left with another failed attempt at a Valentine’s present.

“Guess making sweets isn’t really my thing, huh?” You sighed, body slumping forward against the kitchen counter in defeat. Your eyes wandered from your sad chocolates to the hefty amount of dirty dishes piled in the sink. All this, and you weren’t able to make anything worth giving to Shouto. What exactly were you going to tell him when he came home, bearing witness to this entire mess? No, Shouto was probably under enough stress and fatigue as it was after working all day. Plus, his anticipation for a gift would only be amplified if he saw the number of baking supplies you’ve wasted today. At this point, you had to turn in the towel.

“Oh well… I better clean everything up before Sho comes home and start on din–”

Your words were interrupted by the sharp sound of the front door opening.

“I’m home!” an all too familiar voice announced, one that you were more than aware belonged to a particular fire and ice hero.

Surprised, you glanced over at the clock to check the time, which read a bold 6:00 PM—sooner than you expected your boyfriend to arrive home from his duties that day. So soon, in fact, that you weren’t able to even begin erasing any of the evidence littered around the kitchen.

“Y/n?” you heard him call. Freezing in place, you picked up Shouto breathing in a quick whiff. “What’s that smell?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response, traveling through the enormous apartment to find that answer for himself. Hearing his feet shuffling across the hardwood floor, you moved quickly.

“The kitchen smells sweet but also... bitter.”

Sweet and bitter..? you repeated but soon realized what he meant—those damn burnt chocolate cupcakes you left out. While in your rush with making the chocolates, you had forgotten to dispose of them beforehand. Though the bitter smell was not as prominent as when the cupcakes first came out of the oven, it still didn’t evade Shouto’s keen senses.

After shoving the burnt mini cupcakes in a trash bin, you scrambled to the entrance to the kitchen, thankfully cutting Shouto’s path off just in time as you met him there. “Oh hey, Sho, why didn't expect you to come home so early!” you greeted, a cheerful lilt in your tone as you leaned an arm on the side of the doorway, hoping to come off ordinarily chill to avoid any questioning looks. It seemed you achieved that much at least by how Shouto smiled warmly at your appearance.

“You should’ve shot me a quick text or something.”

“Sorry, we managed to track down the group of villains right away and finished the mission smoothly without any casualties,” he explained. “I guess I was in such a hurry to come home and celebrate Valentine’s Day with you that I must’ve forgotten.” The soft look on Shouto’s handsome features had you in a daze for a second; you nearly missed him descending his head to your level so his lips could find yours. Eventually, you broke from your stupor and swiftly turned your head so he planted a peck on your cheek instead.

You were never one to purposely avoid a kiss on the lips like that from him—far from it actually—but you didn’t want him to find any residual sweetness on your lips from the confections you taste-tested that day and have him bring up if you made anything for him. One thing you surely couldn’t avoid, however, was his puzzled face at your uncharacteristic actions. Still, Shouto wasn’t one to overthink the details. Instead, he decided to look at the bigger picture, such as the dirty yet cute, pink and brown frilly apron tied around your body.

“Your apron’s a mess,” he chuckled lightly. The comment caught you off-guard, eyes slowly traveling down to the flour and chocolate stains on your Valentine’s-themed apron. “Have you been cooking?” he asked. You fumbled with your answer.

“O-Oh yeah..! In fact, I’m… still cooking, actually!” you quickly added, making up for your lack of words. “C’mon, it’s probably been a long day for you. You should go freshen up in the shower while I get everything done and cleaned!” You tried shoo-ing Shouto from the kitchen’s vicinity, but he didn’t budge.

“I can help out if you like. I wouldn’t want you to fix everything up by yourself, especially since we’re supposed to spend the rest of Valentine’s Day together,” he said, and as much as you liked to take him up on his kind and thoughtful offer, you had to object.

Firmly shaking your head, you continued your attempts at pushing Shouto to retreat to the shower and scrub off the troubles of his day. “No, you’ve probably done enough work today as it is! Just let me handle the rest, ‘kay?” you insisted, straining a smile. However, your hurried shoving felt almost too persistent than what Shouto found normal.

“Well, what are you making then–” As he tilted his head up to sneak a peek, you followed his movements, elevating yourself onto your tiptoes to block his vision in time.

“S-Soba noodles..! Cold! Just how you like them,” you answered after partially interrupting him. Quirking a brow at your fidgety gestures, Shouto stared at the smile etched on your lips which screamed of suspicion. Now he was sure something was up.

“Love,” he said, his voice a tone lower than usual that made goosebumps appear on your skin, staring at his turquoise and gray eyes warily, “are you hiding something from me?”

“What? Psh, no,” you feigned innocence, shrugging, “Why would you think that?”

Shouto gave you a look, silently telling you that you should more than know the reason why, but you chose to remain ignorant. No point in questioning it any further then. He would have to pry the answer out himself.

Aware that you had no intention of letting him pass voluntarily, Shouto began putting his hero training to use. He side-stepped in a single motion, quickly pivoting on the balls of his feet to slip through your defenses. You didn’t have time to ask yourself what happened before you turned around to watch his reaction to what you left for him on the kitchen counter.

Upon entering the kitchen, Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes were immediately drawn to the marbled white-and-pink sweets sprawled across the parchment paper. His interest piqued, he walked straight to the chocolates with you trailing behind. You could feel the heat in your cheeks slowly rise from the embarrassment at seeing Shouto inspect your sorry excuse of chocolates.

“Hm, no soba noodles, but I may have found something even better,” he said, and you wondered if you heard correctly or that maybe he saw something you didn’t. You rapidly blinked about four times, letting your vision adjust, and yet your chocolates remained.

“You’re kidding… right?”

Shouto lifted a brow at your hesitance. “No, why would I be kidding?” he replied thoughtfully. He took one of the chocolates off the parchment paper, raising it in the air between his thumb and index finger. “You made these for me, didn’t you?”

“I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be a Valentine’s Day gift, but…”

“But..?” A frown settled on his lips, watching you nervously twiddle your thumbs while you held your hands against your apron. “Y/n, you can tell me.” Not liking how you weren’t meeting his eyes, his finger drew your chin up so he could get a better glimpse of your face.

“But they don’t look the part. They’re hideous,” you quietly admitted, your words mellowing into a whisper the more they departed your lips. The way he treated your creations as if they belonged on a pedestal didn’t sit right in your eyes. “So I... didn’t want you to see them, or any of this actually. I thought if you saw what I was doing, you’d get your hopes up for something special, only to be disappointed.” You tried avoiding his gaze again, but Shouto wouldn’t allow it, following your eyes as his hand pried yours apart to take one in his own.

His focus shifted from the pink and white chocolate held in front of him to the uncertainty clouding your expression. “I’m not sure what you mean. They look fine to me.”

“Sho, you don’t have to lie to me just so you don’t end up hurting my feelings. Anyone can see how uneven they look,” you said, pointing at the rest of the batch still sitting on the counter behind him. There was a low chuckle coming from the male’s lips, one that you guessed was out of amusement, but you were too caught in your troubled feelings to be sure.

“Well, I have to admit, they don’t exactly resemble the perfect, visual representation of the chocolates you’d find at the store or anything,” he acknowledged with you mumbling an ‘I told you so’ in response before he continued, “but that’s the reason why I like them. That means you made them for me and there isn’t any chocolate like it. They’re one of a kind.”

His genuine words took you aback, eyes glimmering and cheeks flushed. You were too wrapped up in your need for perfection that you didn’t realize you could consider your efforts that way.

“Besides,” he threw the little bonbon in his mouth, “they taste great,” he said as the strawberry and white cream melted on his tongue with its rich sweetness.

Despite his praise, you thought he had only said that because you knew for a fact that the chocolates did at least pass in the taste department. “But what if they had tasted bad too? What would you have said then?” You were bold enough to question, though half-worried about his answer in the back of your head—worried that he would have to take back those sweet words of his.

“I still would have eaten them, regardless. I’d never waste anything you’ve made for me, you should know that. To me, these chocolates are the sweetest delight not because they’re the best looking or tasting, but because they came from you,” he answered earnestly, bending down to tuck a hair away from your stunned yet grateful appearance which looked as if you were nearly about to sigh out loud in relief. You brought your body into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin, and he wrapped his arms around you, lips pressed against your hair.

Shouto didn’t grant you much time to bask in your solace however, before beckoning you over to the kitchen counter. He wasn’t done teasing you just yet.

“Normally couples give each other milk chocolates on Valentine’s day. Any reason you decided on white and strawberry then?” Shouto noted, a grin on his lips as you seemed reluctant to reveal your reasoning—lips pursed and fingers playing with the hem of your apron.

“Well, they’re supposed to be your…” You finished by motioning at the crown of your head before pointing to his red and white locks.

Heh... Cute. The grin that was persistent on his features widened, and your response earned you a kiss on the cheek. “Thinking about me, huh?” he teased. You were more than aware of your intentions throughout your chocolate-making process, but it didn’t make the whole situation any less embarrassing when your motives came to light out of Shouto’s own mouth.

You pouted profusely, turning your face in the other direction as you nudged his arm. “Aren’t you going to eat the rest then?” you asked despite your demure demeanor. You couldn’t see it, but you were positive he was aiming that amused expression in your direction, leaning his head on his palm while his elbow was leveled on the counter.

“You made a lot of chocolates today, love. You don’t expect me to finish them all by myself, do you?” You heard the rustle of the parchment liner unsticking to something behind you. Then a finger poked your cheek, and out of curiosity, you followed where the disturbance came from, only to have a swirl of pink and white pushed past your lips.

“Mm..” you hummed surprisingly in delight at the harmonious strawberry and cream flavors coating your tastebuds.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I got to taste them before you arrived home.” You rubbed the back of your head. “And um, I didn’t exactly make these from scratch...” You went about divulging your methods to him, explaining your usage of chocolate melts, which all in all saved you a lot of time, considering your earlier mishaps with the brownies—a misfortune you also confessed to as you side-eyed the trash bin.

The dual-haired male laughed with mirth at the disasters you tangled yourself into today. “Seemed like you had an eventful Valentine’s Day at home without me.”

He scanned over your outfit, consisting of a simple buttoned blouse and a pair of jeans. What caught his eye the most was the frilly, laced brown and pink apron tied around your body. You must have bought this specifically to get in the spirit of Valentine’s Day because this was the first he’s seen you in this. Normally you’d wear those plain cotton aprons while you were cooking. Not something so charming and—dare he say—refreshing.

As you were continuing the conversation—going on about how vanquishing criminal organizations was more productive than whatever you were concocting at home—your words faded into the background. Shouto found it hard to focus on what you were saying, while your animated gestures seemed to enhance the shape of the apron against your body, emphasizing your physique.

Recalling the story you just mentioned, he imagined what the scene of you frantically dashing around the kitchen would look like as you wore this cute thing. Was it weird of him to hold fantasies of arriving home, being greeted by your endearing self donning this garment, dolled in its intricacies with a smile gracing the lips he oh so wanted to kiss every day?

Shouto would think so. He’s never heard of any anecdotes of this kind of behavior before. Perhaps it was how dainty and frilly the material appeared against your figure that stemmed such a risqué thought from him. If that was the case, then this apron was no different than lingerie. Or more specifically, those delicate lace babydolls you’d wear for him on those special occasions, in which you displayed the zenith of lust and vulnerability that rendered him a man ensnared by his need to utterly ravage you–

Fuck. Letting those imaginations cross his mind was a dangerous move. He felt himself getting hard, body exercising the willpower not to pounce and concede to his fantasies. Then again, no one could really blame him for thinking of his girlfriend this way on Valentine’s Day. Especially when you looked so damn cute right now that he could just eat you up.

“Shouto?” Your voice diverted his attention from the growing problem in his pants, though only for a moment. When his focus returned to you, all those lascivious thoughts buried in the back of his head made their way to the forefront again. Damn, did he have it bad.

“Is something wrong? You were zoning out for a bit.”

He shook his head, dispelling your concern. However, it was going to take more than that to sweep away the lust consuming his mind. “It’s nothing. More importantly, why don’t we continue tasting these chocolates?” Pulling up a stool, he took a seat next to the kitchen counter.

Just as you were going to mention that you needed to start on dinner soon, Shouto suddenly drew your body in between his parted legs. Thrown slightly off-balance, you instinctively held onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

You couldn’t help but notice the hand traveling up your legs as it situated itself on the back of your thigh, but the detail was abandoned as soon as it was manifested. The proximity between you two was too much not to overlook now. Shouto peered up at you with what you made out to be smoldering intensity, and the sight reduced you to shying away from his eyes again.

Of course, Shouto didn’t take a liking to that. With you so close, he didn’t want anything hindering his front seat viewing of your candid reactions. “Baby, look here,” he called to you. You followed his command, turning back to face the grin reaching his lips. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You attempted to open your mouth to reply but found another ball of marbled chocolate placed where words should’ve been.

Soft lips wrapped around him, Shouto had to fight back the urge to groan, feeling your tongue graze the pad of his thumb as he fed you the candy. His other hand, formerly occupied with rubbing subtle circles on your clothed flesh, wandered to the satin ribbon of your apron fashioned behind you.

It wasn’t long until you discerned the game he was playing through the fiery looks and frisky touching.

Well, enter player two.

You brought a hand to his wrist, keeping him there as your tongue made work at licking away the residual chocolate melted on his finger. You moved from his thumb to his index finger, noting not to miss anything with every flick as you confidently returned the heady expression with batted eyelashes.

Shouto breathed in silently through his nose, gritting his teeth, your sultry actions having an innate effect on him, to which you smirked at. There was a slight tug on the ribbon wrapped behind you. It wasn’t firm enough to where the knot came undone, but enough that you noticed his fixation on the material. If he was making an effort to exert some self-control, it was futile at this point. No doubt, he was going to take you before Valentine’s Day was over.

“Hmm, you’re right, these chocolates are pretty tasty. But it’s probably because you’re the one feeding them to me that they taste just soooo good,” you mused, adding a sensual tonality to your voice as you concluded your words with one last kitten lick.

The man before you bit the inside of his cheek, your voice alone making blood rush south. You little minx. He was going to make doubly sure you understood just what you were doing to him.

Finally releasing his hand, you reached over beside you to grab a chocolate off the parchment paper. “For you~” You giggled as you led the confection to Shouto’s mouth. He readily accepted your gift, lips wrapping around the tips of your fingers as the mellow flavors soothed his taste buds. He made a point of re-enacting your little show, tongue languidly lapping your fingers while he maintained steady eye contact. You shuddered at the wet warmth abiding your skin, the suffocating sexual tension in the air causing you to press your thighs together. The action was not overlooked by Shouto, who smiled amidst cleaning your fingers with every brush of his tongue.

“What’s wrong, love? You were so bold and talkative earlier. Cat got your tongue or something?” he teased. A smirk ran across the curl of his lips as his licks turned to kisses he planted on the back of your hand.

After finishing his task of lapping up every essence of sweetness off your skin, he lifted himself from the stool. Doing so made him stand tall over you, and he easily cornered you to where your back met the edge of the counter. Your wrist captured in one of his hands, he wove an arm around you, pulling your body into him.

“You know, there’s something I want to eat right now other than chocolates,” he confessed, forehead pressed to yours and glinted heterochromatic eyes latent with an insatiable hunger. The baritone of his voice sent shivers through your body and a throb aching in your core.

You innocently tilted your head at him. “Oh, is that so? And what would that be?”

He chuckled darkly at your redundant question.

“Why you of course, my love.”

The moment the words reached your ears, he lunged forward to seize your lips. You quickly followed in the sensual movements of his soft lips against yours like it was a practiced routine, not resisting his tongue prying its way into your mouth and submitting to the dance that made pleasure course through your veins.

A single tap on your thigh was your cue to hop into Shouto’s waiting grasp and wrap your arms around his neck. You pulled your bodies closer to where the few layers of clothing you both possessed did nothing to hide your enthusiasm for each other. You could feel your nipples under your bra stiffen at your arousal, growing more sensitive as you pressed your chest to him. Meanwhile, his hard erection shamelessly poked the inside of your thigh to which his grip was poised on remaining firm, grinding your lower half against him.

You expected this was where he intended to have you—right then and there in the middle of the kitchen—but to your surprise, Shouto had other plans. He navigated you two to the dining table as you continued feverishly making out with your legs wrapped around his waist. Never breaking the hot mingle of your lips, he carefully placed you on the edge. His hands were free to roam the expanse of your body, palming at places that elicited airy moans from you as he inscribed the niceties of your bonny apron into his memory. Though he cursed the unnecessary layers that obscured your beautiful flesh from him.

Finding the clothes still on you equally unbearable in the heat of your movements, you were on the same wavelength as him. You sought out the satin ribbon tied behind your back that kept the apron on your form, but before your fingertips could even reach the material to tug the knot loose, Shouto seized your wrists and led your hands away. Your face was scrunched with bewilderment by how sudden his actions were.

Shouto didn’t think he could have a fetish over something as ordinary and domestic as a decorative garment tied around your waist, but this Valentine’s Day was proving him otherwise. He was not about to pass an opportunity to absolutely ruin you in this pretty thing.

“Keep it on,” he ordered, voice deep and commanding.

“H-Huh? What about my clothes?” you stuttered, confused at first. You wanted to ask what spurred him to give such a demand, but you were too caught in the moment to think of objecting to his request (not that you had much choice anyway).

“Let me.” That was all he said before his hands sought after the waistband of your jeans and the buttons of your top. He pulled and undid the apparel until you were left in only your panties and that lovely apron. Your bra was quickly disposed of to the pile next to his feet thanks to the clip being located at the front this time, and he was eternally grateful for the convenience. You didn’t even have to mention anything for his own clothes to float above yours on the floor, sitting back on the table to admire his toned physique, now free for you to ogle in just his briefs.

His hooded, icy eyes concentrated on every aspect of your appearance. He didn’t dare miss a single detail in front of him—from your bare, flushed skin glowing beneath the light fixture to your aroused nipples shaped through the thin fabric. You were a sight Shouto would gladly worship for the rest of his life.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, my love, and I’m going to enjoy ravaging you until all you know is my name.”

His words alone were enough to send a tingle of anticipation to your cunt. You did not shrink at his assertiveness, instead embracing both yours and Shouto’s desires with open arms.

“You have me, Sho. I’m all yours.”

The man released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before inhaling and diving in. Your lips reencountered each other, continuing from where you left off with his tongue chasing after you. You laced your fingers in his soft hair to press him deeper to you as Shouto navigated down your neck. He sucked and licked at your skin; every tug he felt on his scalp compelled him to lay marks as he inched closer and closer to your breasts.

“Ahh.. Sho…” you mewled, feeling his hands grope one of your mounds and tease your slit through your panties. With no intention of letting this apron off your body, Shouto pushed the fabric concealing your chest inward to reveal a perky nipple, seeming excited to be covered by his mouth. Well, who was he to deny such exuberance, especially when he himself was hungry to taste?

Lips enclosing the stiffened nub, Shouto sucked and prodded with fervor. As you squirmed and squealed beneath him, your fingers pulled harder at his strands which he hummed in content at. The tip of his tongue circled your areola, making the slick clinging to your panties damper at the stimulation. The hand occupied between your thighs stroked you against the fabric before pulling it to the side to touch you directly.

“Oh fuck!” you cursed at the contact as Shouto did not hesitate to start pumping a finger into your pussy.

“Damn, you’re so wet down here. Did my kisses and teasing do all this?”

You were too distracted by the precise movements of his fingers working through you to answer, words superseded by your wanton moans. “Keep making those pretty sounds, love. I want you to cry out as I’m ruining you.”

Your noises hit a crescendo when his fingers began curling inside you, stretching into places that lit stars behind your eyes. His thumb rubbed your clit to intensify the fire building in your abdomen. Your back arched on the table as you grabbed onto Shouto’s free hand for dear life, already feeling that flame ready to ignite.

“Sho– Wait, I’m gonna–”

“Don’t hesitate, sweetheart. Coat my fingers with your cum,” he told you, increasing the speed of his thumb against your bundle of nerves as he continually hit that euphoric soft spot.

At his words, your pussy clenched hard around him, practically sucking him in. You threw your head back against the table, releasing a loud cry of his name as your orgasm engulfed your whole body with electrifying pleasure. Chest heaving up and down, your breaths sounded ragged as your vision went white before slowly adjusting to the light.

Shouto slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking at the layer of gloss. He observed your fucked-out state from above and admired his handiwork—your lips swollen, eyes glassy, and sweaty skin adorned with his marks.

“You taste absolutely delicious, you know,” he said almost too sweetly, like he had immediately gotten drunk off drinking the remnants of your orgasm. And, of course, he had to let you know how delectable you were. Shouto provided you a sample by pressing his fingers to your lips. You obediently parted them, welcoming your essence on your tongue.

“Don’t you think so?”

You hummed and nodded in agreement. Shouto grinned, bending down to mix your flavor in each other’s mouths. He finally removed your ruined panties and slid them down your legs. But to no one’s surprise, the apron stayed on your person.

When you parted, Shouto gestured for you to get up from the table. In doing so, you had anticipated this would be the time to head straight to the bedroom, but the night continued to prove you wrong. Shouto was still famished.

“Stand up for a second, baby. I want to lay down as I have my meal.” You didn’t need to guess to know just what he wanted to satiate his appetite tonight.

Shouto laid himself flat across the table, the majority of his legs dangling off the edge. You, on the other hand, were apprehensive at his approach, cautiously wondering if your modest dining table could handle the rampant motions of two adult bodies on top of it at once. Should the legs give way and the table collapses, the gravity of your descent would put all your weight onto him. What if you hurt him as a result?

“Love, what’s the holdup?” your boyfriend called, breaking your train of thought, “Come, your throne awaits.” He patted his chest—a rather peculiar place to sit but your cunt pulsed at the image of you riding that gorgeous face of his.

“O-Okay, I’m just afraid of hurting you, is all,” you said, pulling at the hem of your apron for security.

He raised his upper body halfway to see the hesitance painted on your features. “Y/n, there’s no need to worry, I wouldn’t have thought of doing this if I couldn’t handle it,” he assured, his hand reaching out for you. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

You stared at the hand hovering in front of you and then at Shouto’s eyes glimmering with faith, and you knew you could trust his word. So you take his hand, climbing onto the table and over his body where you straddled his chest.

“Dining tables are meant to be eaten on, right? Well, I intend to devour you until your legs are shaking beside me, sweetheart,” he promised. He stroked up and down your thighs tauntingly. Your breaths hitched as he maneuvered you above his face, moving the flap of your apron so you could feel his cold breath against your lower lips.

“As much as I appreciate all those confections you made for me, they all pale in comparison to the sweetest delight here–” He uttered praises to your core while rubbing the soft flesh of your thighs. “This pretty, soft, and dripping pussy.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks at his lewd words and how close in proximity he was to your twitching center. The one thing you detested about this apron at this moment was the fact it blocked you from what Shouto was doing, the bottom half lying right above his face. To him, however, it made everything all the more entertaining.

Despite being the one trapped under you, it must have felt like you were more in the dark than he was. After all, he was the one asserting dominance in this situation, and with a layer of fabric hiding his face, you had no idea how or when he was going to eat you out. His deafening silence was not offering you one bit of reassurance either. If he truly intended to devour you atop this table, he should just do it already.

“...Sho? Are you—Ah!” Upon questioning him, your words were choked by your surprised squeal, feeling him delicately kiss your folds with chilly lips attached to your warm pussy. You opened your mouth to speak again, yet you struggled to search for words as Shouto’s tongue flattened against you, licking a long strip before latching onto your sensitive pearl. The more he relentlessly sucked and teased, the more you sang out with waves of pleasure quivering through your body.

Hearing your beautiful noises, he chuckled, tongue vibrating on your clit. Every sound you produced made his cock stutter, still leaking and begging for attention beneath his briefs.

Not liking how inactive you were—simply sitting on his face and waiting for yourself to come undone on his tongue—you reached behind yourself to trail your hand down his abdomen. His body tensed, abs immediately flexing at your soft touch. You noticed his ministrations falter in their rhythm.

“B-Baby, what are you doing?” he questioned, pulling himself off of you to concentrate on your hand running along the waistband of his briefs. His fingers dug into your flesh as you found his length, tentatively giving it a pump that gave birth to a strained noise below the flap of your apron.

“You’ve been doing all the work so far, Sho. I just want you to enjoy yourself,” you said. His eyebrows were scrunched, hissing through his teeth at your thumb grazing his slit, mixing his precum around the tip.

“I am enjoying myself—this is all I could ever ask for,” he replied honestly. He lifted the frilly material off his face so you could discover your slick running down his lips and neck, the blush spread across his fair cheeks an more than sufficient indication that he derived nothing but delight from being in this position. He looked like an absolute mess, yet the debauched sight made both your heart and pussy flutter.

“But if you want to join in, I won’t stop you.”

At that, Shouto detached himself from your sweetness for just a second to quickly reposition you above him. You were adjusted to where you were practically on all fours on the table now, facing the prominent bulge raised on his briefs while your fluttering cunt was somehow even more obscenely split in front of him. You were thankful the piece of furniture stayed intact throughout the motions, pleasantly astounded by its strength. However, you couldn’t pause to be impressed by this detail for long. Not when Shouto’s aching erection pleaded for you to continue touching it.

Your hand returned to its original place—wrapped around his heavy length that wept with precum coating the surface of its mushroom top. As you stroked it up and down in a consistent rhythm, you altered your grip to tighten more around him.

“Ooh yeah, that’s it, baby. Just like that… Ahhhh, fuckkkk—” You were rewarded by his praises and groans at the splendid pressure surrounding his dick. It encouraged you to keep up your pace and add another hand to the fray to increase the tension.

“You’re doing so well, making me feel so fucking good, love. Can you add your mouth for me now?” he requested, and you happily complied. Your tongue flattened against his cock, noting every vein and twitch running across your wet muscle that reduced Shouto to muttering obscenities behind you. Reaching the top, you swirled your tongue along the tip before taking the entire head into your warm cavern. Shouto’s thighs flexed, body almost trembling at how heavenly you made him feel. He couldn’t be outdone.

You let out a whine on his cock, feeling his mouth working against you again. This time you felt the effects stronger than before as Shouto spread your pussy lips to grant him better access to tongue fuck you. He stimulated every sensitive area with practiced ease, making sure to flick your clit with extra vigor to achieve the best results. You delivered in your reactions—legs shaking and knees slowly and deliberately being reduced to jelly.

Even ensnared in ecstasy, you did your best to adapt to his intensity, engulfing him more into your mouth. Your hands worked together to maximize the most pleasure you could give him, fondling his balls and gripping the base of his cock.

The lewdest of sounds filled the room in an unrelenting symphony. From your muffled whimpers to your pussy squelching in the presence of Shouto’s mouth purring against you, there was no shortage of bliss evident in the atmosphere. Hearing yourselves in the throes of rapture as you devoured each other’s whole beings like starved animals, you two were simultaneously climbing toward your highs.

“Shit, keep doing just that baby, and I’m going to paint that pretty mouth of yours white,” he warned half-heartedly. You purred, the enthusiasm laced your tone informing Shouto you wanted him to do just that. He was pleased by your response.

“You want it, don’t you, you slutty girl? Well, I expect you to drown me in your honey while I cover your throat with my cum then.” Those were the last words he spared you before proceeding to manifest them into reality. His hands dug themselves in the flesh below your ass cheeks, exposing your pussy to his appendage that swiped away at your clit until shockwaves made you tremble above him.

You were the first to come undone, juices running down your thighs and boyfriend’s chin. Your cries were muffled amidst Shouto’s dick caught down your throat, tightening around his length, which surged with spurts of white all over your mouth. You swallowed every single drop of his seed, wiping at the excess on your lips as you released the hero’s cock with a loud pop.

After taking a moment to catch your breaths, you carefully moved off of each other. Shouto steadied you on his lap, letting you straddle him as he sat on the edge of the table. He intertwined your fingers through his and brought them to his lips to place a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Shouto. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #mha smut #bnha fic #bnha imagine #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki imagine #mha x reader

[reidscanehand]

prompt number 10 with aaron hotchner for #rch3kpromptmondays please!

Pretty Damn Close

RCH 3K Celebration

Prompt: 10. “I know you’re not a fan of Valentine’s day…I just thought that maybe I could change your mind…”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAUfem!Reader

TW: cursing, mentions of bad relationships, alcohol consumed by adults

Word Count: 1072

Thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it! xx

No one on the team liked to work holidays. Most of the time they had national holidays off and, of course, were it necessary, team members could get religious exemptions for holidays. Cases came up and disturbed those days from time to time, but it somehow seemed to suck more when cases fell on holidays like Valentine's Day. Even though the team didn't have the day off of work, there was something really awful about solving a serial murder case on what was meant to be a day of love and celebration. Even solving a case in the morning and flying home directly after didn't seem to abate the feelings of discontent.

Which is likely why Derek is so annoyed with you for not being more bummed about missing out on Valentine's Day.

"Come on, Y/N," Derek whines for what has to be the third time since this conversation began, "admit it, you're pissed we had to work today, too."

"We always would've had to work, Derek," you remind him cheekily.

"Yeah, Valentine's Day isn't a day off" Spencer backs you up.

"Not now, Pretty Boy," Derek replies, "I'll tease you about this in a minute. I'm just trying to understand why Little Miss Perfect over here doesn't like a holiday all about love."

"First of all," you say, finally fully looking at Derek, "since when am I Little Miss Perfect?"

"Yeah," Rossi laughs from his seat across the aisle, "I haven't heard that one before."

"And secondly," you continue, "haven't you ever been in a shitty relationship, Derek? They kind of ruin your outlook on things like Valentine's Day."

"I've had my fair share of bad relationships, sweet pea," Derek laughs, at which Emily and JJ exchange glances and burst into laughter. "But look at me, I still love Valentine's Day."

You roll your eyes, "Well, lucky for you, then."

"In what way?"

"You haven't had relationships awful enough to put you off of it for good," you scoff derisively. "And you didn't answer my first question."

At that Derek unexpectedly wiggles his eyebrows, leaning forward conspiratorially, "That's because our Unit Chief" - his eyes dart to the front of the jet where Hotch sits, typing up his report, completely unaware of the conversation - "apparently drunkenly described you as the perfect agent. And the perfect woman."

You feel like your eyes are popping out of your head, "He what?"

"Shhh," Rossi scolds the both of you, "dammit, Morgan, I never should've told you that."

"Wait - multiple people know about this?" you ask, practically whisper screaming at this point.

"Oh, we all know about this, honey," Emily chuckles quietly.

"I don't understand why you're upset," JJ says suddenly.

"Yeah," Spencer agrees. "You have a crush on him, right?"

You stare at Spencer so hard he looks pained, "What the fuck are you talking ab-"

"Don't try to pretend, Little Miss Perfect," Derek cuts you off. "You lovebirds have a team of profilers surrounding you. Best of luck keeping secrets, babe."

"Leave her alone," Rossi reprimands them all quietly. "This is a lot to take in. Especially on Valentine's Day."

The rest of the trip home continues in relative quiet. Smaller conversations and small card games dribble off into most people napping. You, however, are far too flabbergasted to let your mind rest.

Aaron Hotchner. SSA Hotchner. Hotch - the man you've had a crush on since God knows when - drunkenly described you as the perfect woman. What the fuck are you supposed to do with that?

Eventually, you get up, crossing to the kitchenette area to make yourself a cup of tea. You pass Hotch, practically running (as best as you can in a tiny jet) to get past him quickly. It's dim and somehow quieter in the kitchenette. You fix yourself a cup of tea, only for footsteps to approach you from behind.

"Y/N," Hotch whispers from behind you. You turn around to face him, not expecting how soft and sweet his expression looks.

"Hotch," you whisper in response.

He moves his weight between his feet, hands in his pockets, looking down before looking back up at you, "So, um, I don't...I don't ever want to be dishonest with you."

"O-okay," you reply, not sure what to do with that.

"But, um, I...I heard the conversation earlier."

You feel your eyebrows skyrocketing, can feel the terror entering your spine, rolling through you. Though all you manage to reply with is, "Oh."

"I...I'm so sorry," he rasps. It's at that moment that you realize...Hotch, your stoic, intense unit chief is blushing.

"Hotch-"

"Look, you don't have to say anything, I just...Dave invited me over and I drank too much and I said some...things that I shouldn't have."

The sound your mug makes as you place it on the counter is far louder than it should be. The steadying breath you take after it is also pretty loud. But you step forward into Hotch's space, tentatively placing your hands on his chest.

"Did you...mean what you said?" you ask quietly, eyes not quite meeting his, even as you feel his piercing gaze staring down at you.

"Every word," he replies. "I think you're...I think you're perfect."

"No one's perfect," you tease.

A gentle finger hooks itself under your chin, pushing you to look up at him, "You're pretty damn close."

You gaze into his eyes for a moment, then he glances down at your lips.

"Can I...could I kiss you, Y/N?" he asks softly. "Only...I know you're not a fan of Valentine's Day...I just thought that maybe I could change your mind."

You don't even try to fight your smile as you nod and Hotch presses his lips to yours. It's miraculous, really, the ability of this man to turn this day around for you in a matter of moments. The two of you kiss for a bit, all grins and shy touches and glances, making it all the more shocking when the pilot's voice comes over the speakers, announcing landing in an hour.

Without a care in the world, Hotch tugs you by the hand back to his seat, sitting you next to him even as the team wakes up around you all. If they're glancing your way, you barely notice, too wrapped up in the absolutely perfect man next to you.

And if not perfect, then pretty damn close.

~~~

Link to My Main Master List

Link to RCH 3K Celebration

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch fluff #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner blurbs #hotch blurb #criminal minds blurbs #rch3kpromptblurbmondays

[gotnofucks]

No One’s Bitch

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: If Steve thought you’ll bend to his will, he was dead wrong. This kitty has some claws.

Words: 1.5k

Warning: Non-con/Dub-con, smut, kinda hate fuck?, kidnapping, language, breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

A/N: This is my Happy Hoelentine’s Day gift to @mariahthelioness29​ . Hope you enjoy this love, wishing you a very orgasmfull Valentines! This amazing challenge was hosted by the very talented @amythedvdhoarder​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ and @chrissquares​. You girls are amazing! 

“We need an ultrasound!” Steve shouted, carrying you into Bruce’s office and dumping you on a stretcher. Your hands beat at his shoulder in protest, a snarl ripping from you as he finally let go.

“I told you I can walk!” You scream at him and he scowls at your tone.

Bruce blinked at you two for a minute before sighing, wheeling out his ultrasound machine next to you and motioning you to pull up your top.

“Did you finally get her pregnant?” He asked in an almost bored voice and you wrinkled your nose at him in disgust. The nerve of everyone in this goddamn tower!

“No, he didn’t, and if I have it my way he never will.” You huff, earning a disapproving look from both males. Bruce squeezed some cold gel onto his probe and put it on your stomach, gliding it along your stomach and abdomen, eyes trained on the screen.

“Don’t be too sure about it. I’ll like to see you try to escape once I put a baby inside you.” Steve growled and your nostrils flared in anger. You flipped him off, uncaring of his strength and threats. When he kidnapped you and claimed you months ago, Steve didn’t expect you to fight this long. He thought he’d be able to extinguish your fire, force you into a loving relationship and be with him. Well, the jokes on him. You’re no one’s bitch. Not even Captain America’s.

You looked at the monitor too, biting your lip nervously as Bruce pressed the probe deeper, making you hiss.

“What the fuck?” He sputtered, raising his brows at you and Steve. You rolled your eyes, relaxing a little. Thank fuck its not stuck in your throat. “Is that a ring in your stomach?”

Steve slumped on the stool beside you, sighing deep.

“She swallowed it.” He simply said and you sat up quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Blond fucker’s a liar” You snap, “Who the fuck hides a ring in food anymore? Can you get anymore cliché?”

Steve slams his hands on the stretcher beside you, caging you in as he pressed in close to touch his nose to yours. The musky scent of his aftershave wafted over to you and clung to your pores, making you want to sneeze.

“I was trying to be romantic.” He said. “It’s valentine’s day tomorrow. I wanted to spend it as fiancés.”

You breathed out a disbelieving laugh, still surprised at how normal everyone treated this absurdity of your relationship with Steve. If it could even be called that.

“You thought that snatching me away from my family and life was romantic? You thought that taking me against me will and fucking me unconscious every night was romantic. What does a man like you know of romance and love, Mr. Rogers?” You sneer in his face.

Even as his hand came to fist your hair and pull, you don’t cry out in pain. You’ve trained yourself well enough to somehow keep the tears in your eyes and not have them spill over.

“Don’t sit here pretending you don’t come on my dick like a slut, darling” Steve said, his voice low and deep. You barely registered Bruce clearing his throat and walking away, too busy focusing on the rapidly darkening blue in Steve’s eyes.

“If we’re being honest here Steve, then your meaty cum-gun is the only redeemable part about you.” You sweetly said to him and whined as you were roughly push on your back, Steve’s body covering yours.

His lips descended on yours in a frenzy, hands frantic as they pulled at your pants. Months ago, you’d have been embarrassed by the moans that spilled from your parted mouth, but when it became clear that earth shattering orgasms was the only reward for you in this shitshow of an arrangement, you decided to make the best of it.

You pulled on Steve’s hair, biting his lip roughly when he pulled out his hard length and slapped it against your glistening folds, lubing himself in your juices. He growled against you, two fingering unceremoniously thrust into your opening that had you arching your back with pain and pleasure.

“Pathetic” Steve spat, “Only have to touch you and you become a whiny cumslut.”

You groan, wrapping your legs around his huge body to urge him closer. Heels dug into his back and you raked your nails across his scalp and back, leaving bite marks across his shoulder that had him pushing inside you with one hard thrust. You threw your head back, a choked sound howled directly in Steve’s mouth as he hips became flush with yours.

“Look at you, my greedy girl” He mocked, pulling back until only his tip was inside before plunging back inside. “Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock, can you?”

The fragile stretcher threatened to give out under the force of you both, squeaking dangerously as Steve powered into you, sweat and spit mixing on your skin and leaving you damp.

“Is that all you got, Captain?” You challenged, “Can’t make me stay even with a magic cock, can you?”

Steve’s hands took yours and pinned them beside your head, hips almost a blur as he went in and out of you, hitting so deep he seemed to move your womb.

“Fucking bitch, I’ll have you round with my seed. We’ll see how well this mouth runs when it’s too busy sucking my cock and singing lullabies to our brat” He said.

Your brows knit together as he hit a spot inside you that had you mewling, breath coming out in broken pants. You put your lips at Steve’s eyes, licking his earlobe before pulling on it.

“Can’t even get me pregnant. Maybe you should get Bucky to help.”

That was the last straw and Steve’s growl was almost animalist as he ripped away your top, sucking greedily on your hardened nipples while his dick speared you open. You screamed as the stretcher finally snapped, you and Steve tumbling to the floor, still fucking like animals in heat.

The coil inside you wound up tighter the harder Steve went, his tongue swirling inside your mouth and not letting you speak. Your eyes were locked with his furious ones, hips coming up to meet every thrust of his with your own, your juices dripping down your thighs and making a mess.

“I’ll fuck you ten time a day, I’ll spread you open and fuck you in front of everyone until the only thing you’re capable to thinking and saying is my name. You think you won, but no baby, I can do this all day!” He hissed at you and pinched your clit harshly. You snapped, a powerful orgasm tearing through you and making your world turn upside down. You howled, an agonized scream of pure, unadulterated, sinful pleasure echoing around the room.

Steve fucked you through your high, almost close to his own release when you used all your strength to turn him over, straddling him and bouncing on his cock. His eyes widened, his dick going deeper as you took hold of his shoulders and sank down on him with a moan.

“Come inside me then, Captain. Come, fill me up. Let’s see if you manage to fuck a brat inside me today after all.” You provoked and Steve grunted, huge arms holding you close as he twitched inside you, his cum painting your insides.

You collapsed on him, sweaty and spent, breath laboured. He wasn’t much better, the broken stretcher digging into his back as he pulled you closer, nuzzling his nose in your neck. You tried to jerk away, rejecting his affections but he only held tighter, forcing a sweet, almost innocent kiss on your pursed lips.

“One day, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll fall in love with me.” Steve promised and your eyes narrowed. Covered in his scent and essence, you were as marked by him as a tree peed on by a dog.

“One day, you’ll wake up with a dagger inside your chest and you’ll only have yourself to blame.” You remarked. Steve lazily chuckled, bringing you even closer. You wondered if he planned to fall asleep on the floor with you when Bruce came in, resolutely looking at the ceiling.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The doctor bemoaned and you sarcastically smiled at him despite him still looking away.

“What, haven’t you ever witnessed a good shag?” You ask and Steve’s chest rumbled beneath you. “And you, let go. I need to get that fucking ring out of me.”

Steve sighed, reluctantly releasing you and sitting up. He gave you his t-shirt to wear, your own laying in tatters on the floor.

“Will I need a surgery?” You asked Bruce who was grimacing at the mess in his small office.

“No, it should come out naturally in a few days.” He said. When you just looked at him dumbstruck, he wrinkled his nose, a little amused. “You’ll have to pass it out.”

Steve’s eyes met yours and you resisted the urge to throw something at him.

“I’ll get you a new one.” He said dismissively and you stomped your feet, fixing yourself the best you could and moved towards the door.

“I am not marrying you!” You shout over your shoulder, pushing open the door and not sparing a glance behind.

“We’ll see.” Steve said, a smile on his lips.

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x you