#The Truth Behind Valentine's (The Case)

[verysium]

bllk characters and what you think would be their type or what they find attractive in a girl?🙈💗💌

i mean... 🤔 do u want the truthful answer or do u want the ideal answer? cus i don't think any of the bllk boys (maybe with the exception of otoya and aiku) would have a type, much less let it be limited to a girl. but assuming they actually have a life outside of football, here are some traits they would find attractive in a person:

isagi would like someone he can see as a role model. throughout his life, he often finds figures that inspire him (eg. noel noa, ego, even rin if you squint hard enough). he doesn't idolize them, but he does find a way to incorporate their strengths into his playing style and actions. if you have a character trait he highly values, he will like you, and it's generally pretty easy to get him to like you. (unless of course, you're a massive dick like kaiser.)

i find that he gets along best with kurona and hiori. this is because (1) they can read his intentions well, and (2) they are quiet and level-headed. obviously, this would also apply to the romantic side of his life. isagi admires people who are similar to him but still have their own quirks and idiosyncrasies. for example, you subtly support him from behind the scenes and bring him snacks after practice and pack his bento every morning. he appreciates small gestures of kindness.

isagi is also someone very hot-headed as evidenced by his potty mouth. he likes someone who can match his energy and passion but is still calm enough to prevent him from doing anything rash. i picture him running up to you after a game, and the adrenaline causes him to pick you up from out of the stands and twirl you around in his arms.

canonically, isagi is unpopular with girls. he literally returned from valentine's day empty-handed. he tries to be nice most times, but truthfully, nothing except football really interests him. so if you can skip the small talk and start drafting football plays with him, i think he would be attracted to you. like very attracted.

unrelated but he likes someone with a pretty laugh.

bachira needs someone motherly. i feel like he never really got to be a child because everyone around him was constantly putting him down for being the "weird" kid. that's why his current personality is undeniably childish at times. it's the only way he can express the inner child he had before he grew up too fast. i think he'd like people who take care of him in a parental manner, whether that's scolding him for doing something stupid, wiping his chin cus he's a messy eater, or teaching him english every day.

i feel bachira is one of the most extroverted characters in blue lock. he genuinely thrives off his interactions with others. and for that reason, i think he'd be attracted to introverts because they differ so greatly from him. (he'd probably adopt them too.)

bachira has the most creative insults, and that's partially why he gets along so well with isagi. he's not afraid to get out of his comfort zone, nor is he afraid of pushing others to do the same. if this boy can hallucinate whole monsters, he can sure as hell rip his opponents into pieces. i feel like he'd have such a stark duality around you. he'd be beating the crap out of the other team, but the moment he sees you, he's all sunshine and rainbows and bounding over to ask you about your day and overshare about his.

ADHD. that's it. that's the quote. if you're hyperactive, then he's hyperactive, and you'll both be rocking the same boat. most people would assume he needs a grounding presence in his life, but i think post u-20 arc bachira is actually mature enough to process his own issues. now he just needs someone to let loose and have a little fun with.

rin needs a therapist. end of story. this boy is a whole case study. i don't think he's even mentally stable enough to have a romantic relationship. but if he were to date someone, i'd imagine that person is somewhat similar to isagi (and no, this is not a ship.)

isagi has something rin definitively lacks, and that is his strong, dynamic sense of self. when rin fails, he takes it heart. all solutions are linear and logical to him. if he missed a goal, it was because he didn't train hard enough. if he couldn't beat sae, it was because he just wasn't good enough.

but isagi completely changes his mindset every time he loses. (there's a reason why he's surrounded by puzzle pieces all the time.) analyzing is second nature to him. every failure is a catalyst for self-improvement, and he constantly breaks himself down in order to adapt and rebuild. rin needs someone like that in his life, someone who can teach him to be unafraid of change and embrace it instead.

rin also isn't immune to external influences. obviously, he is still learning to play football for himself. looking at the pxg version of him, he has had a significant change in mindset, but he still hasn't completely separated himself from this idea of "beating" someone in order to get to the top. according to his logic, if he surpasses both sae and isagi, he will finally be content. but the truth is, he won't be anywhere near content because his ego still isn't entirely his own. i think he would admire someone who refuses to let themselves be defined by others.

rin would also like someone who is patient because he clearly isn't. (boy was about to have a whole brain aneurysm when bachira threw that paper airplane at him.) honestly, you need to be both gentle and persistent with him. he hates it when people come on too strong, but he also finds his walls slowly crumbling when someone repeatedly goes out of their way to show that they care.

rin has a high level of emotional intelligence, as evidenced by sae's comments about his intuition. however, he can only work out a person's thought process about halfway before he starts to feel lost himself. for example, he can understand that sae dislikes losing, but he doesn't understand that it's innately tied to sae's self-worth and expectations as the eldest child/genius prodigy/role model. if he's going to romantically date anyone, then they need to be extremely skilled in the art of communication. otherwise, rin is going to easily misinterpret things.

finally, i think he'd like someone who knows how to comfort him. rin overthinks. like a lot. the cogs in his brain are constantly whirring. you need to lay him down on your lap and run your fingers through his hair and tell him that everything's going to be alright. (and it is going to be alright, because you're about to move both heaven and earth for him to make it stay that way.)

kaiser has no set type, but if he did, it would also be isagi (i'm sorry but yoichi is our harem princess for a reason.) kaiser oscillates between this superiority and inferiority complex. he even admits he was weak-hearted once.

any and all attraction is heightened for him because he gets obsessed easily. (like did you see his massive desktop displays of isagi? tell me that does not scream high-key yandere shit to you.)

however, more so than people, kaiser is fixated on ideals. he literally got a cheesy blue rose tattoo to remind himself that nothing is impossible, and he stands naked in front of his mirror every morning repeating the motto: "this is me." the self-esteem issues are glaringly obvious.

now, rather than completely shatter his entire worldview like isagi did, you need to be the one to gently (and i stress, gently) remind him that sometimes ideals aren't everything. kaiser is unpredictable, but the one thing that stays constant about him is the many masks he hides behind. everything is a role to him, and he takes center stage. but you need to convince him that none of this really matters. he doesn't need to bedazzle himself in tattoos and dye his hair and sport a mullet-rattail hybrid to be worthy of attention. sometimes his ugly bed head and dark circles are precisely the reason you love him.

second of all, you need to set firm boundaries (otherwise you'll end up like ness.) kaiser wants someone with a backbone, and he does not turn a blind eye to raw potential. victory is his end goal, and if you can bring him one step closer to that, he will stick to you. the only issue here is that you need to make sure he does not use you. and believe me, he will try. but if you draw a strong line between you two and stand your ground, he will start to see you in a new light. it can go both ways (love or hate), but either way you are someone important in his eyes.

lastly, i think he wants someone with a sense of humor. he's naturally cocky, and he needs someone to match his wit. ness already does that, but he doesn't give kaiser enough challenge. in my mind, i imagine kaiser trying to impress you with his german, but you give him a good run for his money when you already know how to speak it. things like that. he thinks it's hot when you can stand up to his level. but at the end of the day, your loyalty still lies with him, and you're not above/below him but rather the one standing beside him.

barou doesn't have a type. he is the type. you're lucky to have him.

otoya likes cute girls, even better when they have the standard fringe/bob cut look. he also lives for the height difference. teasing short girls by patting their heads is his signature move. he also likes it when girls wear lipgloss, like a sparkly candy pink shade, maybe even a spritz of perfume. he's also type to make fun of the little chubby pooch you get when you eat too much. he thinks it's adorable. personality-wise, it doesn't matter. he's going to cheat anyways. jk but on a more serious note, the person he's likely going to stay with forever is someone who can forgive his weaknesses and actually make the effort to understand him. instead of writing him off as an immature two-timer, he'd appreciate people who can actually hear him out. obviously, it doesn't excuse any of his actions, but it lets him know that you do indeed care.

aiku says he likes anyone who looks easy to break up with, but it's actually the opposite. he tends to go for older women who end up slapping him in the face. he's a womanizer, but he actually has a significant amount of character depth. generally, he's someone who goes with the flow, and nothing really upsets him. but to actually get to know him and his insecurities, you'd have to be someone really important to him. i think aiku is the type to be a serial dater before he finds someone he'll actually stick to. he's afraid of commitment, and it's for good reason. the authority figures in his life have failed him enough times to be considered unreliable. please be kind to him because the childhood trauma was not. i smell lots of emotional baggage here.

nagi likes the flame type because it has few weaknesses and helped him clear three levels in digimon. oh wait, you mean his ideal type? yeah, he does not know what that is, and he's too lazy to think of one. currently he's in the middle of fighting a custody battle for choki, and he's losing to a certain purple-haired freak. please come back later.

reo likes wine aunties lol. it's canon that he prefers older women, but i think it's just because they tend to know what they want. he likes people who have a set goal and are constantly working towards it. he himself diverts all his time and resources into football once he discovers that it is his calling.

i think he's the type to be extremely popular but not actually have any deep, long-lasting connections with any of his friends. he knows a lot of people, but he doesn't know them well. that's also why he gets so attached to nagi because nagi is the first person to really know him. in a way, i think that'd translate over to the people he loves as well. he likes people who don't beat around the bush. if they like him for who he is, they'll say it outright. he doesn't need to do any digging or engage in any form of the pretentious formalities he despises.

reo is rich, which is both a blessing and a curse. on one hand, he's all set for life, but on the other hand, it unfortunately makes many of his relationships conditional. he said it himself that people are often drawn to him because of his money. so i think he'd also like someone who isn't materialistic. he values honesty and genuine connection above all, so if you're ready to give him love regardless of his status, he'd sincerely love you too.

chigiri likes tomboys or any person with masculine characteristics. he's constantly getting mistaken for a girl at blue lock, so i think it'd just be funny to pair him up with someone who also shares the same androgynous plight. you two would bond over breaking gender norms.

he's a capricorn, and even if astrology is a pseudoscience, i still feel like the archetype fits him well. he refuses to let other people see him cry. he values his family a lot. he tends to be moody and intense at times. not to mention he is very goal-driven (excuse the pun.) based on that, i think he'd want someone calm and understanding. it's not that he needs someone else to work out his own problems for him. it's more so that he needs someone to remind him that he's still human sometimes. i feel like after his injury, he was sort of in this survival mode, constantly trying to prove himself and get back to the level he used to be at. but you need to remind him that he can relax once in a while. it's perfectly alright if he isn't as good as he used to be right now. progress comes at a different pace for everyone.

furthermore, chigiri tends to project a serious image most of the time, so i think it'd be nice if someone reminds him that he does have indeed an odd sense humor and his fair share of stupid moments, and that's totally okay too.

shidou likes anyone who doesn't like him, but this has to be done the right way. within blue lock, he's already sort of this outcast because no one understands his playing style (except maybe sae.) you need to show him that you value his eccentricities while also keeping him at an arm's length. he loves a challenge.

since he's someone unafraid to express himself, he likes to see that in another person. whether it's in your fashion sense, way of talking, body language, etc., he loves it when you act unapologetically yourself.

shidou is quite literally a dog kept on a leash, so you need to tug on that leash from time to time. he loves it when people attempt to tell him off and call him out for his bullshit. inhibition is a foreign concept to him, so he feels entertained when others try to teach it to him. he also thinks it's immensely sexy when you're angry at him. lord knows he is definitely going to slip that in mid-argument just so you can yell at him some more.

sae wouldn't even believe in the concept of a "type" in general because he thinks it's stupid to categorize people based on an ideal and fixed set of characteristics. (that's pretty rich coming from a guy who calls people who don't meet his standards lukewarm but we're just gonna ignore his hypocrisy.) either way, he has a non-traditional view of love and attraction.

i do think he likes people who are solid and reliable, and they can continuously yield quality results. he would also want someone who is as ambitious as him because i don't think he can realistically get along with someone who has no dreams or aspirations. it just doesn't fit well with his driven personality.

people who are empathetic and emotionally intuitive intrigue him since that's something he lacks. personally, i think he'd like someone who is mature (doesn't matter if they're older or younger.) if you can teach him something useful, he find you worthy of his time. and if you can read his feelings without him even telling you, he would consider you someone special.

sae needs someone who holds similar ideals to him but doesn't follow him blindly. (notice how he hated it when rin blindly relied on his assists when they were children.) he want someone who is independent because he is also highly independent. however, the difference is that they also actively make room in their life for other people, and that is something sae doesn't know how to do.

there's a point of growth somewhere in your relationship where you call out his mistakes and set him on the right path. sae struggles a lot with his definition of victory, and he finds it difficult to curb his greed. his ego is what sets him apart from everyone else, so failure is not an option in his books. unfortunately, this is also why he loses some of his original spark/motivation. you need to be someone who can tell him that failure is not a weakness, and sometimes the journey matters more than the ending.

also this poor boy needs someone to teach him social cues because i don’t really think he knows how to read the room. he’d probably unintentionally insult a chairman or investor, and you’ll be trailing after him with a sheepish smile as you bow and apologize for him. (i feel bad for his manager.)

[callme-darling]

work tensions

or; you’re a prosecutor working a trial vincent is defending and your colleagues get the feeling there’s some underlying tension between the way you’re at each others throats

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smut, like genuinely filthy shit, fem reader, hate sex (kinda), sex in the workplace (so like semi-public ig), vincent and y/n are rivals/enemies, this actually somewhat has a plot lmao, hellllaaaaa tension, so much teasing, degradation (he say slut once), cocky vincent, begging if you squint, throat holding/light choking, fingering, no protection, p-in-v, not proofread, friendly ending (bc i’m a big softie)

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LADIES!!!! hope you enjoy🤍🤍

you were amongst the youngest of the attorneys in the city courthouse. you were fortunate in the opportunities afforded to you, but you also worked your ass off to get where you were today. which is why you, for the life of yourself, can’t understand what the hell you did to earn the contempt of vincent renzi.

from the first time you both stood in the same courtroom, it seemed like his eyes were always set in a hard glare when they saw you. so whose to blame you for reciprocating the hostility? your colleagues usually give you well-intentioned advice to at least talk to him, something you haven’t even done outside of casework. who knows, they’d shrug, maybe it’s just ill-concealed intrigue.

you were young, but you weren’t naive enough to think the esteemed defense attorney didn’t absolutely hate your guts.

some of your colleagues, however, seemed hellbent on taking matters into their own hands after a minor scuffle that left the judge’s office suspended in a tense battle of wills. the case wasn’t even that serious—just a petty case of ‘he-said, she-said’ neighbor dispute. but the simple judge’s meeting quickly fell apart to a dispute that devolved to obviously personal jabs.

when the judge finally had enough, she dismissed both you and vincent from the room with the stern instruction to “talk out whatever issues you two obviously have, and get your shit together”.

you’re on vincent’s heels as he speeds out of the room. as soon as you hear the door click shut behind you, you’re glancing up and down the hallway. vincent runs a hand through his hair, annoyance etched across his features.

“what the hell is your problem?”

you gawk at him, “MY problem?!” you chuckle at his audacity. “you’re the one who started all this-“ you wave your hands in the space between you two like some enigmatic boundary separated you.

his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, and a roll of his eyes had you seeing red. before you had a chance to properly rip his throat out, an older man poked his head out from another room, face stern as he recommended you find somewhere else to continue whatever dispute you deigned important enough to have a tempermental yelling match in the middle of the office.

with a noise that could only be chalked up at pure irritation, vincent began strutting down the hall. you were quick behind him, wordlessly keeping in step with his long strides. you weren’t done with your conversation, and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away now.

you were in an unfamiliar, and rather desolate, wing of the building when he spun around to face you, his face inches from yours as he ducked down slightly to glare into your eyes. “quit following me like a damn dog!”

your eyes widened before a hard scowl settled on your face. “not until you tell me what your problem with me is.” you fume, “ever since i got here, you have had some personal vendetta against me. you’re going to tell me why.”

his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned your face. “your feelings are hurt because i don’t like you, is that what this is?”

you roll your eyes. “that’s bullshit and we both know it. the truth. now.”

“i need a reason to dislike you?”

“you can make one up for all i care, but i’m tired of your attitude fucking with my job.”

he chuckles dryly, “oh, i see. that’s what this is about.”

your brows scrunch together. at your look of confusion, he takes a step closer, breath fanning your face as he whispers through tight lips, “it’s my attitude fucking with your job, hm? that’s what drives me so fucking crazy- you’re so blind.” he rubs a hand over his mouth, taking a breath before his eyes are hard set on you again. “don’t think i don’t see it—the way you’ve charmed our colleagues, how you bat your pretty little eyes at the judges to get your way-“

you cut him off, disbelief dripping from your words. “excuse me?”

he scoffs, “oh don’t be coy.”

“you know what, vincent,” you clench your fists, nails biting into your palms as they shook, “you can fuck right off.”

you go to turn and walk away, but a thought of venom penetrates your mind and you whip right back around, nearly nose-to-nose as you whisper low, “just say you’re threatened by me next time.”

you watch as something akin to rage flash across vincent’s face. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but his eyes bore into yours with a silent threat that chills your spine. his tone is low, dangerous. the rasp makes the hair along your arms stand on end. “i suggest you choose your next words wisely, y/n.”

maybe it was your stubbornness, or a fleeting air of confidence, but you hold his stare, your own voice quieter but just as menacing. “vincent renzi is threatened by the fresh-faced competition and can’t stand the thought that i may be the better attorney.” were you being childish in taunting him? yes, probably. but the months of tension were reaching critical mass, and whatever thoughts crossed your mind were being said.

what had just slipped through your lips, though, was definitely the wrong thing to have said.

a hand harshly grips your bicep as he drags you to the nearest room. he flicks on one set of lights and slams the door shut. he’s fuming, you note. however, you don’t fully register just how angry he is.

he’s silent for a pregnant moment, the air suffocating as he watches you with an analytical glare, his body seemed almost animalistic in how he stalked towards with with silent strides. you feel a new form of anxiety quicken your breathing.

he’s close now, so close you can smell his day-old cologne like it were freshly applied. his voice is quiet, but it makes you jolt under his intense gaze. “you want to know why i hate you so much?”

you feel as though you’re trapped in a stupor, your mind dizzy with this newfound suspense. you give him a small nod, not trusting your voice to remain firm in this intensity.

you swear you feel his lips just barely ghost over your cheek as he speaks, nearly growling in your ear. “i hate you because you’re so infuriating.” he pauses. “the way you walk around the courtroom like it’s yours to own, how you always make the most nit-picky points. and what pisses me off the most, is how i’m so attracted to you because of it.”

you were holding your breath. you felt your mind reeling as silence settled over the room. only the sound of your own breathing and the blood rushing through your veins reached your ears as you held vincent’s gaze.

his ferocity seemed to have diminished a fraction, but his jaw remained clenched. words escaped your brain as you tried to wrack together some coherent response, anything to quell the heat burning you from the inside out.

when no such words came, you decided ‘to hell with it’.

your eyes flicked to vincent’s lips, rubbed a pretty red from his hands and teeth. then you looked back into his eyes. an exchange that required no voice.

‘do it then,’ you silently dared. do it.

and so, he did.

his palm was warm on your cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he crashed his lips to yours. the force of the kiss had you stumbling back before vincent’s other hand caught your hip.

impatient. that was the best word to describe the way vincent kissed you. you tasted his lips on yours, body humming as you become acutely aware just who you’re kissing. and the mere thought has your thighs clenching together.

there was no room to speak with the way his mouth trailed down your chin, dipping into the curve of your neck. a shudder rushes through your muscles when you feel his teeth nip at the skin of your throat, eliciting a soft gasp to fall from your kiss-swollen lips.

you can feel the faint press of a grin to your collarbone. he coaxed your legs to walk back a few steps, securing your body between the table and his own.

his breath was warm as he spoke against your shoulder, “tell me to stop.” the featherlight touch of his fingers sent jolts of electricity through you as they skimmed down your arms and over your waist. “tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll let you walk out that door.”

your lungs burned when you finally released your breath. you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, and the deep octave of his voice was doing little to soothe it. you were surprised by your own voice’s clarity, “shut up and kiss me again.”

you felt his body melt deeper into yours as your palms pulled him in by the side of his neck. you allowed yourself to be more eager, greedier, as your tongue teased his bottom lip.

he pressed his hips firmly against yours, his rasping moan nearly making you whimper in response. he was breathless when he pulled away. the pad of his thumb stroked your bottom lip, his own shining with a mixture of yours and his spit.

“i’m going to ruin you..” he murmured, leaning down again, his lips brushing over yours as his thumb holds your chin in place.

you prop your hand on the table behind you, not trusting your legs to hold you for much longer. your voice is meeker this time as you whisper against his touch, “you can try.”

vincent kisses you with an assured hunger. his touch dominating as he grips your hips, the fabric of your skirt gradually bunching in his hold. you can sense the apprehension in him, his internal battle of morals. your hand cradles the back of his head, nails stroking his scalp as you use your other to guide his hand under your blouse. blue eyes meet yours as you chide, “you don’t have to play nice with me, vincent.” the lull of his name from your lips paired with the way you brought his palm to grope at your chest, he needed no more convincing.

“such a little fuckin’ minx.” he muttered under his breath. your skirt was bunched up to your waist, your panties shoved down your legs. he had your back flat on the tabletop, hips slotted between your thighs as his eyes raked over you.

you could feel yourself slowly dripping onto the table below you, cheeks flushed with both lust and embarrassment.

vincent smirked. seeing you laid out like this, on display for him has his dick twitching in his pants. he appraised your needy pussy, a tentative two fingers teasing your folds as your thighs trembled. he watched how you grew shy, hand hovering over your mouth as you whine at the fleeting touch.

finally, you feel the pair of fingers slide into your soaking cunt. a whimper escapes you when he’s knuckle-deep in your clenching heat, the palm of his hand grazing your clit.

his gaze is attentive as he makes note of every little reaction you have to each stroke of his fingers. he bites his lip as he witnesses your eyes softly roll back when his fingers find the spot that has your chest heaving and hips shuddering. he leans down so his ear is next to your mouth, intent on hearing every single needy little whine he lures from you. he presses his lips to yours when he feels you creep up to your climax. “are you going to come on my hand?” his eyes find yours, half-lidded and glassy, and the sight alone makes him groan as his cock aches.

“is this all it takes to have you all pretty and compliant?” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes your cunt flutter around his fingers. “not so smart now when i have two fingers in this little pussy of yours, hm?”

you swear you felt like you were going to pass out. the combination of his fingers and palm against your pussy, his degrading mocking, and taunting eyes has you keening under him in a newfound desperation as you teetered precariously on the edge. so, so close to being rendered incoherent with only two fingers.

his touch leaves you.

you whine loudly, pouting as you attempt to catch your stolen breath. you move to sit up, but a large firm hand across your collarbones keeps you sprawled on the table. you squirm under his hold. “vincent.. why?” under any other circumstances, the needy pitch of your voice would’ve made you cringe, but your depravity gave you little to care about aside from satisfying your incessant lust right now.

his voice was sickeningly taunting as he cooed down at you, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. “come on, you have to work for it.”

you could feel that familiar animosity sit on your tongue, but you hold it. though, based on the sly smile looking down at you, you got the sense he could feel it too.

“how ‘bout this..” he sighs instead. his eyes trailed over your face, blue irises harboring a certain warmth that had anticipation swirling in your stomach. “if you say a simple, little sentence, i’ll give you what you want.”

you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over what was no doubt a trap. “what would you have me say?”

the way his smile widened had your pussy clenching around nothing, the cold air making you shiver. “i want you to say: ‘only vincent renzi can make my pussy this wet’.

“oh fuck y-“

his hand catches your jaw before you could finish your crude remark. his fingers lightly dig into your cheeks as he comes nose-to-nose with you. his voice is dangerously low but a softness keeps to the edges. “would you rather me leave you here, like this? your pussy is practically weeping.” as if to reinforce his words, a hand lightly slaps against your folds. the wet sound had your face turning a new shade of red, lips pouting as his other hand still holds your face close to his.

you don’t say anything, internally battling with yourself. the tip of vincent’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes following the minute movement with bated breaths. then his soft voice buzzes in your ear. “c’mon.. just say how i make you drip like a needy slut. let me hear that pretty voice of yours, the one you like to use so much.”

you felt a whine croak in your throat as the hand between your thighs gave your clit another tap. “i’ll give you three seconds.” his low tone warned.

“three..”

you felt your breath stutter, eyes searching his. there’s no way he’s serious.

“two..”

he wouldn’t actually leave you like this, would he?”

“on-“

“okay.” you cut him off, words rushed as you grip the wrist of the hand holding your face.

he peers down at you expectantly. the corner of his lips upturned slightly, and you hated how attractive it was.

“only vincent can make me this wet..” he’s never seen you so timid and meek than in that moment, something that only added to the building heat of the room.

“now, was that so hard?” he quirked a brow, fingers playing with your aching cunt as he notes the way your slick soaks his palm. “you’ve done your part, so be a good girl and take what i give you, yeah?”

you nod dumbly as his hand drops from your jaw. your body felt like it was buzzing, heart hammering in your chest as you watched him fumble with his pants, pulling his leather belt off with one hand.

he plants a searing kiss to your lips, a trained dominance permeating his movements. you moan against him, hips twitching as his pants brush against your bare core. a hand slides between your bodies to free his leaking cock from his slacks. you swallow any sounds he makes as his hand strokes his dick a few times. “you got to stay quiet. think you can handle that?”

you ignore the obvious taunt, hand on the back of his neck as you pull at the ends of his hair. “just fuck me already, vince.”

he chuckles dryly, but you sense the anticipation crawling under his skin. next time, you’ll be the one making him beg.

a drawn out gasp fills the room as you feel him slowly begin to sink into your tight heat. fuck, you felt dizzy as your cunt pulsed, sucking him in deeper.

you both moan in with quiet sighs when he bottoms out. he starts slow, but eventually finds a rhythm that has you whining with each thrust, your whimpers gradually growing in volume as his thumb toyed with your sore clit. he curses under his breath, a large hand gripping the sides of your throat.

his voice was labored but firm, “you want the entire firm to hear how you sound with my dick in you? be quiet.” he warns again.

you try, you really do. your hand is over your mouth, eyes watering with unshed tears as his pace quickens. your other hand flies to his shoulder, nails biting into his shirt in a silent plea. his voice floats back to you. “but staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”

“fuck, oh shit-“ you whimper, eyes screwing shut when you feel the start of your orgasm wrack through you. “vincent, please, oh-“ your eyes fluttered as his grip around your neck tightened a fraction.

“i told you, you would eventually start begging.”

you can barely hear him over the erratic pulsing in your ears. your entire body tenses, cunt clenching around his dick like a vice. he hisses above you, teeth gritted as he watches you come undone.

he pulls out of you, stroking himself a few more times before he’s coming on your pussy and thighs.

you lay on the table, breathing hard as you come down from the orgasmic high. you stare at vincent who’s already watching you, breaths sharing a calming rhythm. when you feel more like yourself, you start to sit up. he hands you a box of tissues, eyes daring to glance at the mess he made on you.

you attempt to straighten your blouse, the collar of which looks as though it had gone through a windstorm. your eyes scan the floor for your panties.

vincent’s palm offers the small ball of satin into your fingers. your gaze catches his as he suppresses a grin. “wouldn’t want to be caught without these, would you?”

you glare at him, though it’s void of the usual hostility. you finish straightening your clothes, blouse retucked into your smoothed-out skirt. you turn back to vincent who’s been put back together for a couple minutes already, leaning against the wall idly.

your mind screamed at you to fill the silence, to say something to settle the oncoming disquiet.

to your surprise, it was vincent who broke the silence first. “who would have thought that this is something you’re into?” his eyes appraised you again. there was no adversity in his jest, only a gentle prodding.

“you can’t say that like you didn’t just fuck me the same.”

he nods, toothy grin starting to crack through his lips. you can see the way his fingers twitch, itching to hold a cigarette between them.

“want a smoke?” you offer, testing the waters.

his eyes catch yours, and he holds your gaze for a moment. then the first genuine, true smile you’ve seen from him is directed at you.

“i’d like that, yes.”

[lovingksuki]

✰ SECRET ADMIRER

— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy

cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.

a/n: this is part one of three. let me know if you want this mini series to be continued :) and pls be patient since english is not my first language hehe ;;

word count: 1k

"oh c'mon! what if there's a heart shaped letter in your locker? you never know..."

"there's not."

"you can't be so certain about it. my girl is never looking her surroundings, who knows if someone got their heart pierced by an arrow?" mina pointed.

"shut up, every year the same thing..." you rushed and right after turning the corridor you captured by distance. "ok. maybe you were right." you said finding the metal compartment half closed.

then you grabbed the red paper in her hands, paying attention to the almost dry daisy taped lazily on the front; glanced around not spotting anything or anyone suspicious about it, then turned to your best friend.

"i got a feeling you're part of this." spurred.

"whoa, i was joking just now! even i am chocked. who's the sender?" the pink colored girl held her hands up in protest.

"i don't know, there's only my name." you stated carefully sticking the little flower out.

"let me search for a hint." mina took the letter from your hands suddenly, mumbling while quickly skimming through the words looking for something useful. she gasped before smirking at the content and then continued mumbling.

"enjoying yourself!?" you sighed waiting.

"mkay, done." handed the letter. "nothing between the lines. who wrote this sure is smart enough to not leak their identity."

"that's for me to decide. you ain't the smartest kind." you chuckled.

"hey!"

"more like the pretty girl type."

"you sly thing! you received a love letter, who's the pretty girl again?" both laughed at the statement and headed out to the cafeteria. "not reading it?"

"can't think when i am this hungry. we should hurry."

at the lunchtime the subject was the same. you two were discussing with your mouths full, sitting by yourselves on a table far enough from eavesdropping.

"hear me out. there's this line that seems to be rewritten over and over, it's a bit tattered." you mentioned. "it says: 'i'm still hesitant about what you think about me' and thanks to the pressure they put on paper seems to be 'afraid of who i am' underneath."

"adds a lot of nothing to our investigation. that's what everybody would say in a confession, i mean, nobody likes being dumped." pinky pointed out unfazed.

"yeah but, i don't think it's meaningless, what if this person is truly insecure about themselves." you pondered.

"or they're just ugly." mina chewed on her meal.

"i don't think that's the case... remember when you told me that thing you read about pretty boys' handwriting?" you brought up.

"did you actually believe that!? was just a discussion in a girl's meme forum." the pink one remarked.

"but there's some truth behind it. if you consider that people with a smaller hand can grip on a pen better when writing, also means the ones with big hands tend to have a sloppier handwriting!" you stated confident about your theory.

"girl, you're tripping... does this mean we're going across the school measuring boys' hands?" mina smirked unconvinced.

"precisely."

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

"what a fucking waste of time..." said raging.

"dude, calm down. at least you poured your feelings out..." eijiro reassured his bestfriend trying to point out the bright side of things.

but while he's the bright side, katsuki was the dark side. they say a good relationship is based in balance, in this case it makes total sense.

"you even checked if she read it?" asked the red haired.

"when she and mina walked by me at the corridor they were whispering and giggling like little lambs. probably laughing at that letter though." pouted.

"you're being paranoid, they're always like that."

"they're up to something..." bakugo murmured.

whilst the two struggled to put up with the 'plan cupid', the other two were constructing the 'plan pretty boy's handwriting'.

"as i was saying, a pencil has six inches approximately, we're looking for a hand as big at least. if we measure our hands we can compare with theirs without them noticing." stated grabbing a pen off her case.

"you're truly a genius. i refuse to accept you failed strategic test last week." mina complimented.

"i was in a really bad mood that day... anyway!" justified while traced her own hand in a empty page of mina's notebook. "fifteen centimeters. do yours and we're good to go!" demanded agitated.

when looking for friends of theirs, the girls pretended to just have a walk around the school.

"what if it was a girl?" mina asked suddenly.

"i doubt. how many girls with large hands do we know?" claimed.

"mmm... asui-san?"

"you've got to be kidding...!" pulled her phone and dialed quickly a number. "hey!" you smiled. "no, nothing really urgent, i just wanted to ask... are you perhaps in love with me?" questioned without any filter.

"girl you gone mad?" mina whispered holding back a laughter.

"uh, ok. anyways, thank you. we talk later, kisses!" you hung up. "see? that's not her."

"woah you're so straightforward! it scares me sometimes..."

the boys exited the restroom still discussing, but when the blondie heard a certain voice he stepped back. pulled eijiro's tie to hide behind a pillar with him. "shut it!" mouthed.

"i just wanted to ask... are you perhaps in love with me?"

"uh, ok."

his face started to burn as he became more anxious. could only hear a few words, enough to bring the boy into complete state of panic.

after the girls left he released his breath.

"stop overthinking! she just received a love letter, of course she's curious!" kirishima said.

"i didn't say anything, shitty-hair!"

"your face shows!" sighed. "seriously, how can she be so oblivious? just look at you! you're terrible at hiding."

"i- i... she doesn't even talk to me that often..." katsuki pitied.

"bro, you're not the friendliest around here. but she doesn't seem to be afraid of you." kiri pondered. "have you ever tried to smile?"

he looked at the red spiked guy and opened a shy smile.

"a bit more."

every time bakugo tried to put on smiling face it looked creepy. "be more genuine." said eijiro.

trying his best, but even with so much effort... his buddy analyzed. "ok. it looks absolutely terrifying."

"shit."

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Valentine's Series #8: Bookstore | jongho x reader

Pairing: choi jongho x reader

Genre: fluff, romance

Summary: Jongho gets jealous and confesses his love for you.

Word Count: 590 words

a/n: the series finale!! <3

Jongho always saw himself as a rational person. He would decipher the circumstance based on logic and understanding and come to a well-versed conclusion. This was the first time that wasn’t the case.

It’s Valentine’s Day, and one of the activities Jongho planned for you was to visit a cosy bookstore and pick out some new books. It was going all well and good until Jongho detached from your side for only a minute and suddenly, one of the bookstore workers started flirting with you.

Jongho was not amused. He stood in his spot and analysed the scene, determining what to do. He trusts you so he knew there was nothing to worry about, but on the other hand, the worker who felt he was being slick and smooth was another case by itself.

He zeroed-in on the conversation and figured the worker was trying to “do his job” to keep you in a conversation. You were polite and friendly but he could tell you were ready to leave.

So he waltzed over and placed an arm around your waist which caught you by surprise and led you towards the cashier to pay.

Meanwhile, you mused at Jongho’s sudden protectiveness. His arm hardly left your waist until he had to retrieve his card, then it found itself right back when it was time to leave. Jongho continued to not-so-subtly glance back at the worker and pulled you closer towards him as the two of you walked to the exit. He opened the door, allowed you to step-out first and when you turned back to watch him, he gave you the largest and sweetest smile. Of course, Jongho always smiled affectionately with you, but the last time you saw a smile this big was during the Wanteez courtroom episode.

And then the biggest surprise of all, for someone who was not the fondest of kinship, Jongho held your hand in his hand while walking down the street towards a cafe and swung it back and forth playfully.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re not the biggest fan of PDA as I recall.”

Jongho glanced at you before clearing his throat in an attempt to relax himself.

“The worker annoyed me.” he mumbled.

As you circled back to the situation in your mind, your eyes widened in shock as you realised that the Choi Jongho was jealous. Mr - There - Is - A - Reasonable - Explanation - For - Everything had actually fallen victim to the green-eyed-monster slightly. 

In reality, the worker was not actually flirting with you. He was actually doing his job and conversed with you about some of the books you were looking at because his girlfriend read some of them already. He was just an easy going guy who did his job well. You did see how that might get misconstrued. 

You giggled heartily as you put the pieces together and Jongho squinted in your direction. 

“What is it?”

When you told him the truth, Jongho blinked thrice in surprise and felt his face heating up. He slowly recognized that he may have overreacted a bit. In a last attempt to salvage his reputation, he spilled out the first thing that came to mind.

“Yeah, well, can you blame me? I love you.”

“Wait, what?”

Jongho wanted to disappear, this wasn’t how he planned to confess. He looked at you, saw the cafe right behind you and did the first thing that came to mind again.

He ran to the cafe.

“Last one there owes the other a foot massage.”

He scampered off leaving you behind.

“What?? Hey, Choi Jongho! Get back here!”

[miheartsedthings]

Happy Valentine's Day, Loves!

Ready for a treat? 😊 I've got just the thing. Let's take a look at your first kiss with Billy Hargrove.

Summary: Because of an altercation with his dad, Billy shows up late for your first date, and with a black eye. The two of you end up on the playground looking at the stars.

SFW Billy x Reader

Warnings: Implied child abuse.

Note: You and Billy are both 18 but you haven't graduated yet.

❣️The First Kiss❣️

You're watching the clock on your nightstand slowly countdown to 6pm. Your nerves are rattling, and you can't find the bracelet you wanted to wear. You started getting ready two hours ago, yet it feels like time has flown by and you're still rushing around putting on finishing touches. This is what Billy Hargrove does to you.

You'd met in detention. You were there for your alleged involvement in a fight. In truth all you'd done was pull a girl off your friend when it looked like she was losing. You may have tossed a couple words at the other girl but nothing that wasn't true. Nevertheless your friend got suspended and you got detention, where Billy Hargrove sat leaned back in his chair, arm slung around the back of the empty seat beside him.

The chaperone left halfway through the hour to run an errand, leaving you alone with the mischievous hottie who, unbeknownst to you, was stealing glances at you whenever he could. Before you knew it, he was plopping down in the seat beside you, tossing his arm behind your back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Didn't know you were the fighting type.”

You were surprised to hear him talk to you. Billy Hargrove who only associated with the popular and blonde. It hadn't occurred to you that he knew anything about you, let alone why you'd gotten in trouble.

“I broke up the fight, actually.”

“That's real heroic.”

You cut your eyes at him, annoyed by his condescending tone. He only smirked.

“You better be careful making that face at me.”

Your face warmed, nerves fluttering in your stomach. He laughed because he could tell what kind of effect he had on you. Before you knew it the two of you were talking about the hardass way Hawkins approached discipline. He asked if you wanted to ditch the rest of detention, and when you said you couldn't risk getting into more trouble, he teased you. You asked if he would stop bothering you so you could pass the rest of the hour in peace, and he asked you out.

That was a few hours ago, and now you're freaking out because you can't find your bracelet and the clock just struck 6. You rifle through your jewelry case one more time, then finally give up. You snatch your phone from the charger, add an extra puff of perfume, and rush out of your bedroom. In the end, all the rushing is for nothing, because you get downstairs and go to the window, just to find that Billy isn't there. Not a big deal, he's never come across as a punctual person. You sat on the couch and waited, still excited. You wonder if he'll like your outfit, the way you styled your hair. Minutes tick by.

“He's still not here?” Your mom asks, clearly disapproving.

“He's just a little late. No big deal.”

You try to hide your nerves but you're starting to worry. Wondering if the whole thing had been a joke. You've heard rumors about Billy being rude and sometimes downright cruel, but you figured they were exaggerations. Maybe you'd been naive in this.

Five and then ten minutes goes by, and with every moment you doubt more and more the fun you'd had with him in detention. Maybe you'd imagined that he'd been into you. Foolishly believed he'd break from his asshole behavior and show you a better side of himself. After nearly 30 minutes you're ready to call it. Your mom is saying he doesn't know what he's missing and you're trying not to feel like an idiot, when your phone rings. You stare at the phone a moment before you answer. You bring it to your ear and don't even say anything. Too angry to speak.

“I'm here.”

Is all he says before hanging up.

“Tell me you're not going.” Your mom says, giving you a look.

“I'll be back before curfew.”

Outside, Billy sits in his black Camaro with his sunglasses on, bobbing his head to “Symphony of Destruction” by Megadeath. You slip into the passenger seat and stare at him for a moment, not even closing the door. He looks over.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah?”

You snip back. He smirks.

“Damn, you really are so cute when you're mad.”

He goes to touch your cheek and you turn your face away.

“You're late.”

You say, fighting your attraction to him with your arms crossed. His demeanor is cold, and he watches you behind those shades with a flat expression.

“I got into somethin’”

“You got into something.”

His jaw tensed.

“You gonna let me make it up to you?”

His tone is sharp and wounding. You're conflicted for a moment. If he hadn't shown up at all you would've been sure he was just fucking with you. If he'd sat there in detention without saying a word to you, your life would've gone on as normal. But, he'd spoken to you, and nothing's normal anymore. You're sitting there with Billy Hargrove, he's late but he's there, asking to make it up to you.

You shut the door and the song changes from Megadeath to Metallica. Any giddiness you'd felt for the date has already drained away and now you're more curious than anything. What exactly did he ‘get into’ that made him so late? Why was he being so uncharacteristically quiet? And why in the goddamn hell was he wearing sunglasses at night?

You hoped this wasn't the legendary Hargrove charm; showing up late in a shitty mood paying lazy homage to some tacky rock song? No thanks.

The burger place is pretty packed when the two of you arrive. People crowded into the space. One booth is full of kids graduating under you who recognize Billy instantly. They lean into their little cluster and whisper, not even attempting discretion. You focus on the menu, remembering your appetite in a sudden rush of hunger.

“Man, I forgot how hungry I was.”

You say as the two of you settle at a booth with your meals.

“How do you forget something like that?”

He doesn't take off the sunglasses to eat. You shrug and answer with your mouth full.

“Thought I was getting stood up.”

“Why would I ask you out just to stand you up?”

“Happens all the time.”

“To you?”

“Well, yeah. Once.”

He stops mid-chew, looking at you.

“No shit.”

“I'm serious. I really liked the guy, too. Left me waiting at a roller rink.”

He shakes his head.

“Fuckin dumbass.”

You smile a little. It can't be helped. After food you climb back into the car. You've already missed half of the movie you were meant to see.

“Wanna wait for the later one?”

You ask him, only to be met with a shrug. He's noticeably distracted and drives with the music turned up. Every once in a while he winces as if in some invisible pain.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm great, doll, how are you?”

He looks at you, cracking his lips into a forced smile.

“I'm wondering why you're wearing sunglasses?”

“Is it a problem? I'll take you home if you don't like it.”

“Is that what you wanna do? Go back home?”

This makes him settle, and the little sneer recedes until he's flat again. Hidden.

“I have an idea.”

You direct him to your old elementary school’s playground. Once there, you're reminded of your favorite pastime and your giddiness returns. As soon as the car is in park you unbuckle and hop out.

“Damn,” he exclaims, hurrying to follow you.

You glance up at the sky, ecstatic to find the street lamps are dim enough to see a bounty of stars.

“Ah, it's perfect.”

You race through the wood chips heading right for the swings.

“Alright,” You hop onto one of the swings and start pumping “I'm about to show you my special talent.”

“Don't get yourself hurt,” he chides and you shush him, already going faster and swinging higher than his head.

“You just stand back. Don't get in my way.”

He does stand back, shaking his head at you with a little amused smile.

“If you break your fuckin legs I swear to God.”

“I won't. I'm going over, up and over!”

“What?”

He's more than a little concerned when he sees how high you're going and realizes what you're talking about.

“What the fuck? Are you kidding?”

You swing up, your belly dropping with the familiar momentum, the world tilts backwards and for a moment you're flying.

“Nope.”

The trees bend away at an angle, and the city skyline stretches far beyond. You can see fields in the distance.

“You're not a kid, you're gonna fuckin tip this thing.”

“I won't!”

Your words whip by on the wind rushing past your face, then, a smattering of stars smears across your vision and for a moment you and the world are upside down. The chains rattle as your swing comes clammering back down to center, one loop completed. You're laughing uncontrollably and stagger off the swing on wobbly legs. Your head rushing.

“Holy shit.”

Billy’s mouth is hanging ajar.

“Told you.” You switch your hips like a boisterous pigeon, teasing “You're gonna fuckin flip it, you're not a fuckin kid.”

Before you can finish the taunt he's after you. The two of you take off in a game of chase, dashing through the chips, over the see saw and under the monkey bars until finally, he snatches you into his arms. His grip is tight around your waist from behind.

“Okay, okay, I give up.”

The two of you relax, and his grip eases, but there you are in his arms. Neither of you want to let go just yet. You stand there, his breath warm on your ear, his arms around your middle and your arms over his. The two of you fit together so perfectly. You turn your head, finding his lips right there, his handsome face, and those sunglasses. You reach up to remove them and he catches your hand.

“You're so weird.” You say, softly.

“Me? You're the one who almost nut yourself over the swingset.”

He had a point. The two of you make your way to the playset and lay down on the brown plastic, looking up at the stars.

“When I leave here, I'm going somewhere warm." You say, eyes on the stars "All I'm gonna do is sit outside drinking white wine and all I'm gonna eat is lobsters and coconuts.”

“Sounds like you're going to Cali, then.”

“I'll try it out, for sure. But I gotta see Jamaica, too. And the Virgin Islands. Miami, even.”

“I could see you in Miami.”

You rolled onto your side to look at him.

“Yeah?”

He smiles, and for once it's a real smile instead of a smirk.

“Yeah. But Cali’s better.”

You smile back.

“I'm glad you showed up.”

He doesn't say anything, but there's a response, a change in the way he regards you that you can't help but notice. Maybe it's the set of his mouth or the softening of his brows. Either way, the air is filled with static. When you speak again, it's so softly you think he might not hear you.

“Are you gonna tell me why you were late?”

He looks at you for a long moment. So long that you start to make your peace with the idea that you might never know. Then, he lifts up on his elbows and slowly takes off the sunglasses. Around his left eye, a darkening bruise. Your heart sinks looking at it, and registering the trepidation in his gaze. He isn't looking directly at you, his eyes focused on your lips, his expression flat, as if bracing for the worst.

You do something you've wanted to do for a long time, which is trace your finger along his jawline and then along his bottom lip. His eyes are kind. So kind it's a wonder he can be so intimidating. Looking at him now, you can't imagine this person hurting anyone. His eyes are kind, catching the light of the stars.

“Still so cute,” you say, and the relief he feels crumples his brow. He touches your cheek with the backs of his fingers, caressing gently. Then, you could be imagining it, but it seems like he's leaning in. No, he is leaning in! Your heart jerks to a start as he comes slowly closer. You close your eyes, and sure enough there are his lips, soft against your own.

You never imagined a kiss with him would feel so pure. You didn't think his tongue would be sweet, you didn't think he'd hold your chin and kiss you like you were so precious. But soon you'd know this kiss, you'd come to know it as the way he kisses you when he means to say: “I love you.”

Thanks for reading!! 💖

[alexetbishop]

DANCING IN THE STARS

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Word count: 1.3K

Summary: someone turns your valentine's Day upside down.

————————————————————————

Valentine's Day has never been a special day for you, preferring to stay at home and read a good book or watch a cheesy rom com while stuffing yourself with ice cream and chocolate like every other night.

You had everything laid out: snacks all over the coffee table, La La Land about to start on the TV and a fuzzy blanket on your knees.

However, your night would've been interrupted in a few seconds by none other than your best friend.

Kate was supposed to go on a date with a girl she recently met. Yet, somehow she found herself at your doorstep at 9.00 PM on valentine's Day with a half eaten box of chocolate.

"Can you open up? It's me." Kate said behind the door.

You furrowed your eyebrows and stood up from the comfort of your couch. You opened the door and your jaw almost dropped at her sight. Kate was wearing a full on black suit. Her tie was loose around her neck and her shirt was unbuttoned revealing a trace of her collarbone. A box of chocolate in her left hand and her jacket slung over her shoulder.

You cleared your throat. "What- what are you doing here?" She takes off her jacket from her shoulder and walks in, throwing it on a chair.

"Date didn't show up." She shrugged. "Chocolate?" She popped one in her mouth and offered to you the box.

"She stood you up?" You asked taking the box and putting it on the kitchen table.

"Eh, it's no big deal. Mind if I borrow some clothes?" She started to walk towards your room while starting to unbutton her shirt. "This suit is killing me."

You followed her, she was already browsing through your closet when you reached your room. "You seriously need to sort out your clothes in here. It's a mess." She took out some sweats and started changing. You lowered your head. "Not that yours is any better." You quipped. She chuckled. "Touche."

"So, what happened?" You asked her. Kate was acting weird, that's for sure. Usually when a date goes bad she would come to you crying and in need of cuddles. Today it was not the case apparently.

"Well, I got to the restaurant, waited for like half an hour until she texted me that she can't come." She doesn't seemed fazed at all. And that's probably because she was not telling the truth.

The girl did show up. And they did have a good time until they got on the girl's car to make out.

But you didn't have to know that. You didn't have to know that she imagined your hand was the one she was holding. That your lips were the ones she was kissing. She ran out of the car freaked out as she saw the girl's face instead of yours when she pulled back after a kiss. And she ran and ran until she found herself at your apartment complex.

She couldn't get you out of her mind. She tried to forget how you made her feel by going on date after date with people she barely knew. But your smile, your voice, you hunted her thoughts.

"You sure you're okay?" You ask just to be sure. You looked up but immediately averted your gaze down again as she was just in her bra.

"Yeah. Totally." She nods. "Now, I've seen you were about to watch La La Land?" She zipped up her hoodie and walked past you, back to the living room. "You've seen that movie like a hundred times. Don't you think we should watch something else?" She plopped down on the couch, taking a bowl of popcorn on her lap.

"You know I can't help it." You sat down next to her, pulled the blanket on your knees and started the movie. "And don't act like you don't love it." You grin and poke her shoulder. "Also I bet that you're either going to break out in a dance or in a concert."

She raised her eyebrows at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh you wanna bet? Fine. Let's bet then." She pops a popcorn in her mouth. "If I win I will always be allowed to steal any of your clothes and not return them."

"Wow. You're really committing to this. Fine." You pause. "Then if I win you won't be able to eat pizza for two weeks."

That made her hesitant but she reached out her hand anyway. "Lets shake on it." You shook her hand and both looked at the TV.

Half an hour passed, in the meanwhile Kate cuddled up to you, wrapping both arms around you and laying her head on your shoulder.

She had always been affectionate towards you and you were totally fine with it. Until one day you were hanging out together and she smiled at you. It was a simple smile but it changed everything. It made you fall completely and hopelessly in love with her and now every time she looked at you or touched you, you transformed into stick.

City of stars started playing. Kate began to hum under her breath. "I can hear you." You looked down at her. "But humming is not singing." She pointed out. "Mh, no. I think it is." You say back. "So I think you should shut up if you don't want to lose." Kate purses her lips, and stays silent even if you feel her move her fingers to the slow melody.

She was trying so hard to contain herself but her favourite scene came on. The sight of Mia and Sebastian dancing in the stars made her burst.

She stood up and intertwined her fingers with yours. "Dance with me." It wasn't even a question. She ordered you to dance with her. She pulled you up, flushing her body with yours.

"Kate! You're going to lose the bet!" You felt so hot all of a sudden.

"I don't care." She places one hand around your waist and the other on your neck, her thumb grazing your jaw. She wasn't even thinking about the bet anymore. She will take her chance. She's tired of jumping from person to person. She only wants you.

She twirled you around the living room, eliciting a few nervous giggles from you. You didn't dare to look up, scared that you would explode if your eyes would ever meet hers. Also because you were scared to crash her feet. But that was for sure a minor problem compared to the fire burning inside you.

"I'm over here, you know." She lifted up your face. "Just go with the flow." Blood rushed to your cheeks. She was so close you could count all the shades of blue in her eyes. She smiled softly and her eyes crinkled. Her hair was flowing around as if a breeze was following her around.

She was so beautiful.

There's no denying that. You always thought that and despite your red cheeks, you couldn't take your eyes off of her. As your feet moved on the hardwood floor her forehead connected with yours. She smelled so good, the perfume mixed with her natural scent made you go crazy.

The song wasn't even over when she pressed her lips on yours. She was hesitant at first, but when she felt your hands squeezing her waist, she went all in. She tasted both sweet and salty, probably from the chocolate and popcorn she ate earlier.

Your knees gave out and your hands came around her back.

The song ends. You break the kiss with an idiotic smile on both your faces. "You lost the bet."

"I think I can live two weeks without pizza." She shrugged. "Do you?" You lifted both your eyebrows. "Because I remember vividly you going feral after not having pizza for five days str-" she shut you up with a kiss and you melted in her arms.

"How about... I promise to kiss you every time I crave pizza?" She smirks and kisses you again. You giggle into the kiss and nod. "That's fine by me."

It's safe to say Kate never broke her promise.

[gragrace]

Not so Happy Valentines

Summary: Spencer and Y/N’s Valentine’s Day plans are interrupted to catch a serial killer.

Word Count: 870

AN: Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m sick and wrote this quickly, hope you enjoy 🩷 this is totally cringe but what is love if not cringe🩷

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

As the BAU rushed to respond to the urgent case, Y/N couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment. Valentine's Day had arrived, and the romantic plans she had envisioned with Spencer had been abruptly interrupted by the call of duty.

In the jet, Y/N stole a glance at Spencer, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "I was really looking forward to spending Valentine's Day with just you," she confessed, her eyes reflecting a hint of longing.

Spencer reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "I know, Y/N. I was too. But duty calls, and we'll make it up to each other, I promise."

During the investigation, Garcia noticed Y/N’s subdued mood. Sensing her friend's disappointment, Garcia affectionately called her "toots," offering words of encouragement. "Don't worry, Yn. We'll catch this unsub, and you'll have your cozy make-up Valentine's Day evening."

As the case unfolded like a sinister Valentine's Day nightmare, Spencer Reid's analytical mind delved into the twisted history of the perpetrator. His brow furrowed as he connected the dots, realizing the disturbing pattern of a chillingly methodical serial killer who exclusively struck on Valentine's Day.

"The level of planning and symbolism involved is astounding," Spencer commented, his voice reflecting a mix of fascination and repulsion. "It's as if the unsub sees Valentine's Day as the ultimate canvas for their heinous acts."

Y/N, standing by his side, felt the weight of the symbolism seeping into the investigation. The unsettling connection between the victims and the romantic holiday struck a chord, and her determination to bring justice intensified.

As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, Spencer's keen observations complemented Yn's relentless pursuit of the truth. "This unsub is calculating, methodical, and strangely fixated on Valentine's Day. It's not just about the act; it's about the message they want to convey through it," he mused, the wheels of his brilliant mind turning.

Y/N, fueled by a mix of determination and a desire for justice, played a crucial role in piecing together the final elements that led to the unsub's identification.

In the intensity of the investigation, the team's collective efforts brought them closer to understanding the intricate planning behind each Valentine's Day murder. The unsub's chilling obsession with the holiday became clearer, and Spencer couldn't help but marvel at the dark psychology driving their gruesome acts.

As the team closed in on the killer, Y/N’s determination reached its peak. Spencer, acknowledging her resilience, added, "We're on the right track, Y/N. The unsub won't escape justice, especially with your commitment to uncovering the truth."

When justice was finally served, the weight lifted from Y/N’s shoulders. The symbolism of the killer's reign of terror over Valentine's Day dissipated, leaving room for healing and closure. As she was on the way to her apartment with Spencer, the air was lighter, and the couple found solace in the fact that they had not only cracked the case but also reclaimed the essence of love that the killer had sought to extinguish.

Upon returning to their apartment, Y/N was pleasantly surprised to find a romantic setup awaiting them. A candlelit dinner adorned the table, a cold bottle of wine chilling, and her favorite show queued up on the television. Spencer smiled, knowing he had a lot to make up for.

As Spencer wrapped his arms around her, the soft glow of candlelight illuminated their shared space. The lingering scent of a carefully prepared dinner filled the room, creating an atmosphere that felt both romantic and intimate.

"Happy belated Valentine's Day, love," Spencer whispered, his eyes reflecting sincerity and love. Y/N’s heart fluttered as she looked into his warm gaze, appreciating the effort he had put into making this evening special despite the unexpected turn of events.

The dinner table, adorned with delicate flowers and elegant settings, invited them to share a moment of quiet celebration. Spencer pulled out a chair for Yn, his gestures both tender and thoughtful. As they sat down, he poured a glass of the chilled wine that awaited them, toasting to the resilience of their love.

With each bite of the carefully crafted meal, Y/N felt the warmth of Spencer's affection enveloping her. He had recreated the atmosphere they had missed on Valentine's Day, turning their home into a haven of love and understanding. Spencer, always known for his intellect, had managed to translate his intelligence into the language of romance, creating a night that felt truly special.

After dinner, they settled on the couch to watch Y/N’s favorite show. Spencer had taken note of every detail, from the cozy blankets to the choice of episodes. As they snuggled together, Y/N couldn't help but appreciate the thoughtfulness that had gone into every aspect of the evening.

In that shared moment, they realized that love was more than a single day on the calendar. It was the countless gestures, both big and small, that wove the fabric of their relationship. Spencer, ever the romantic, spoke softly, "Every day with you is worth celebrating, Y/N. I love you."

With those words, they sealed the evening with a sweet kiss, savoring the joy of being together, grateful for a love that transcended the confines of a single day on the calendar.

[bedoballoons]

─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤💕⊰─

VALENTINES EVENT DAY 2

{༻~Alhaitham X Reader: Lovely librarian~༺}

Genre: Fluff and Smut headcanons! (separate)

Valentine's Masterlist 💕

CW: Fluff: Gn! Reader, readers booksmart, pre-relationship!

Smut: Afab GN! Reader, Public s*x to the point they almost get caught, teasing, creampie, roughness, biting, sweating, descriptions of making out, and no protection!

ੈ♡˚~Alhaitham~ੈ♡˚:

(Fluff version)

"Alright, all checked out sir. Thank you and I hope you have a great day!" You smiled brightly at Alhaitham as you handed back his things...to think you've done this everyday for almost a year now...and he still had no clue you even existed. It wasn't because he was unkind, in fact he was far nicer and more caring to the library materials then any of the other workers for the academia. No he was simply more interested in reading then socialising...one of the things you found so charming about him.

If only he'd notice you..

The rest of the day went by without anything of note and so did the night until yet again you were at your desk, checking out books to everyone. To say everyday was the same would be a understatement...

"You look bored, has the literature failed to capture your entertainment today?"

You snapped your attention to the man in front of you, wondering if you'd just imagined him actually speaking, "I'm sorry?"

"Usually whenever I come in to check out my books you always seem to perk up, I thought you must enjoy the same type of reading material as I do. Am I mistaken?"

Your cheeks flushed red as he stared at you, the scribe himself...who you only ever dreamed of talking to you...had noticed?!? There was two ways you could play this, be overly confident and say that you actually perked up because of him or claim you really did just enjoy his books...oh what to do?!?, "Well, I do find what you check out interesting...it's far more advanced then the normal, but in truth I just enjoy the chance to talk to you. Even if I do most the talking..."

You gulped as he seemed slightly taken aback, what if he thought you were a creep?!? Was that the wrong thing to say??

"In that case, my name's Alhaitham. I'd like to talk with you more over a cup of coffee, if that's alright?"

You could have died right then, your heart racing as you nodded with a flustered smile, "That sounds lovely. How about 9 tomorrow? At the cafe in the academia?"

"Sounds like a date. I'll meet you there."

A date!!

(Smut version)

You gasped quietly as Alhaithams muscular body roughly pushed yours into the shelves behind you, books tumbling to the floor while he messily left marks on your soft skin and his hands held yours above your head. He was all around you, the smell of his sweat was making your mind spin and god you needed more, more of the way he was acting, the way he was craving you, more of him.

You curled one of your legs around his waist and adjusted yourself so your clothed heat would be right up against his zipper. You could tell it was enticing him, soft groans escaping his lips as he tried to keep his voice down, but the feeling of his pants gently grazing your undergarments was enough to leave your pussy wetting itself. How could you possibly care about the noise when you were so turned on? "A-alhaithammnn~"

"Shhh~" He forced you into a desperate kiss to shush you, but you couldn't help moaning into it. Ths feeling of his tongue inside your mouth exploring every inch of it like he was hungry for you and his growing bulge making itself known. You could hear others filling up the library and your patience was running thin, you needed him. Now

"Haitham mmnnh, please~" You whispered pleadingly against his chin, your warm breath caressing his skin...that seemed to grab his attention, much to your delight. He let go of yout hands and let his digits trail down your sides, your body shivering in response...oh how he enjoyed watching you get more and more eager with each of his touches.

He undid his zipped and you felt yourself clench around nothing when his member finally sprang to life in front of you, heat running down your thighs. Before you could even begin to move your underwear aside and line him up with your entrance his mouth was on yours again, strings of saliva connecting the two of you whenever he pulled away so you could catch your breath. You could feel his tip ever so softly nudge your folds and it was driving you mad, "Stop t-teasingh-"

You heard him chuckle and for a second you felt confused...until suddenly his entire cock started to sink into you. Every inch spreading you wider to fit, oh it felt so good...had it not been for his insistent kisses... the whole library would have known exactly what you were doing.

You bit into his shoulder the second he pulled away, each of his thrusts forcing your back into the shelf keeping you up, it stung but all you could feel was pleasure. You were soaked through, muffled moans leaving your lips as he fucked you in the very place you worked...you'd never see the shelf the same way again.

"There's someone on the other side. Quiet now~" His words were raspy in your ear and so authoritative you felt yourself tighten around his length. How the hell were you supposed to be quiet when his dick felt so good inside you, when the excitement of getting caught was only heightened with every noise getting closer, when you were literally moments away from cumming around him?

"F-fuck~" He hissed as you bit down harder into his skin, your hips moving by themselves to meet his sloppy thrusts. He was hitting just the right spot, so deep and fast you swore you had started to see heaven. You stopped biting him just long enough to tilt your head back and cover your mouth with your hand, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head as you finished so hard the ceiling spun.

"H-happy valentines day~"

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Happy valentine's day!~*⁠.⁠✧

[hesthermay]

𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

PAIRING: tech x gn!reader

SUMMARY: "when i met ana, i knew; i loved her to the point of invention." -sarah ruhl

WORDS COUNT: 1.1k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences. fluff. valentines day blurb. use of y/n. au where everyone is happy on pabu.

NOTES: bada bing bada boom this is 4 days laaaaaaaaate so sorry humblest of apologies please love it

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

“Tech?” 

“Yes?”

“...what is that?” 

Life on Pabu was breezy. Safe, protected, warm, and happy; Pabu was cut from a different cloth than the rest of the galaxy, light despite the unrelenting weight of Empirical oppression. Thus was why the Bad Batch had chosen it to hunker down and perhaps create some roots somewhere not centered around war and pain.

With the entrance of the Batch on Pabu, came the entrance of Tech into Y/N’s life. 

Peculiar, that one was, but you couldn’t help but find yourself enamored by him. Naturally, it was a slow progression between the two of you, with a friendship forming before the man even started processing the second layer of your relationship. Even with the ever so gracious help of Omega, Tech was oblivious to the little hints, the tension that organically formed, and could not fathom why you would go out of your way to do the simplest of things for him. 

Tech was more than capable of feeding himself, yet from time to time dinner was brought over with claims of having extra. He knew there was no way you, who lived alone, would have this much leftover food for one meal yet the possibility of you intentionally making this just to bring it to him was unrealistic—and even further, impossible. 

It had been Hunter who had let him in on the not so hidden fact that dinner nights with you weren’t really meant for them all. Yes, you were all of their friend—but those visits, that thought and care was for Tech. He had argued, of course, and it had been Omega this time who informed him that that was just what you do. 

“What they care for someone, they do things for them,” she explained as if it was the most obvious thing as she tinkered with some gadget. “Y/N makes dinner for all of us, but they always make your favorites, Tech. You know,” she turned, grinning at her brothers, “they always carry a cloth in case you need to clean your goggles.” With that, the girl stood from her seat, gathering her things and exiting the room, leaving behind an air of wisdom of someone much older than her. She did that often, and that was why Tech slightly believed her. 

Upon further research, Tech discovered what was known as a love language. The dots, how ever he missed them before, finally connected in his mind in the late of night. 

Rules he upheld with his brothers and Omega, he was more lax with you. Your presence when he was not in the mood to socialize was more tolerable than the rest, and he recalled all the times he had observed and factually stated that you were beautiful to himself. Beauty, though subjective in nature, was a natural occurrence in life. And Tech was not afraid of the truth, and the truth was that you had been beautiful all along, and he had thought of you slightly more special than most others he knew. 

That was what had led them to this moment. Tech had stayed up all night, working into the wee hours of morning on as many projects as he could manage. And then, waiting until he knew you would go about your usual tasks of the day, he trekked to your home and installed every creation he had produced. 

“You complained that the cover over your walkway floods your garden when it rains, so I created a funneling system to redirect the waterflow elsewhere,” he answered, pushing his goggles up his nose. “And you mentioned a draft because your front door would not close all the way, so I fixed it. And the side window that was previously cracked has been replaced with an upgraded version.” 

Your heart squeezed in your chest as you watched him rock ever so slightly on his feet, glancing at you here and there but not keeping his eyes on one thing too long, and it struck you that he must have been nervous. While Tech was known to fidget, nerves were not something he displayed signs of hardly ever, and heat gathered in your cheeks. 

The sun was warm, Tech was as handsome as ever, and your smile could not have been any larger. “An upgraded version, huh?” Your eyebrows raised playfully, voice light as you took one step closer. 

“Yes, upgraded,” he affirmed seriously before continuing, beginning to walk away. “As per your complaints, the window offered no privacy nor did it—” he cut himself off, stopping in his tracks when he noticed you hadn’t walked off with him. Instead of grumbling or giving a sarcastic quip, as he was ever inclined to do, he backtracked until your hand was grasped in his. He tugged your arm lightly, beckoning you to follow him as he resumed his explanation. “As I was saying, nor did it filter any of Pabu’s natural light in your home, so…” he trailed off until the two of you were planted right in front of the said window on the side of your house. 

It was your bedroom window to be exact, and true to his word, it was no longer cracked.

But instead of regular transparasteel, the surface had been frosted over. You could no longer see right into the room, but instead see little designs in the glass, swirls and such riddled all over the place. “I made this last night,” he offered, looking between you and the window, voice much softer than before. “The light, it will not be as harsh on you, and you now have privacy while still having the effect of an open window, which…” he exhaled ever so slightly, the weight of your hand in his heavy on his mind as he looked over at you once again, “which I know you love.” 

He was right. You had mentioned that the solution to your problem was as simple as some curtains, but then that would eliminate the natural light as a whole and that was the opposite of what you wanted. You had not had the skills or the mindset to create the solutions to these problems, though not detrimental in severity, but for some reason Tech had taken it upon himself to be the one to remedy them. 

“Tech…” you whispered, looking at him with a tender love he was not used to receiving. It made his heart rate accelerate in his chest, as he thought back to all of the acts of service you had done for not only him but his family as well.

You had loved him to the point of service, and Tech had realized that he loved you to the point of invention. 

“No need to mention it,” he whispered back, unable to fight off the blush in his cheeks as you smiled at him. “That is just what people do when they care. You taught me that.” 

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my work as your own.

[junipers-archive]

Sweet-Tooth

Word Count: 700

Includes: fluff, fluff, fluff, you have a sweet tooth and one day while staying late at work Aaron find out and can't help but listen!!

Its late. Very late; way above your pay-grade to be staying at the office late. And yet here you are stationed at your desk, you're almost sure you're the only one left.

That is until you hear a noise from the office's kitchen, and really you're not one for believing in ghosts but in that moment you had your doubts...

"Hello? Is anyone there?"you start toward the area when you bump into someone.

"y/n..." Of course, of course Aaron is the only one left here. His hands ghost his collar in attempt to fix his non-existent tie out of nervous habit. "What- uh What're you doing here so late?"

In truth, you'd been nodding off every hour in attempts to catch up on paperwork and had been living off of valentines day chocolate you'd bought yourself. But you were so not telling that to your boss, no matter how cute and approachable he looked with no tie, ruffled hair and slightly open button-down.

"I-I was just doing some paperwork"

"Right...do you need some help?"

Yes. "N-no, just uh maybe some sugar?"

He steps aside to let you through, "You mean coffee?"

"No I mean..." You should've just stayed at your cubicle. "I have this thing about sugar, its the only thing that works to keep me awake."

He raises an eyebrow at this so you continue. "I-well ever since I was little I could only stay up late if I had some type of sugar, I tried all types of other ways, coffee, energy drinks you name it, I've tried it."

He's leaning against the counter now looking concerned though you swear you could see a twinge of amusement in his eyes.

"And...none of these...methods have worked?"

You smile then, "Have you ever seen me drink coffee in the mornings? You could say I'm a tad sweet-toothed"

"And you don't have any sugar on you now?"

"I-uh I ran out, i had these valentines day chocolates but I finished them a few hours ago..."you start to mumble at the end of your sentence, realizing how ridiculously pathetic you'd sound if you told the truth

He hums in response and you now understand how awkward you've made the encounter and begin to retreat to your cubicle. but of course the universe would never allow you such an easy way out.

"Y/n."

"Yea Hotch?" In fear of him seeing you smiling like an idiot for the hundredth time at just hearing him say your name, you keep your back to him.

"Go home. You can work on the paperwork tomorrow."

Now you turn. "Its really no big deal, and I'm behind, and its my own fault for-"

"Go home, and thats an order." Except he doesn't say it like its an order, he says it with his lopsided-Hotch smile that sends butterflies swarming in your stomach.

"Fine" you breathe out your reply, pretending you're in a rush to get out of his sight to hide the fact you're once again grinning because he cares.

✧✧✧✧✧

The next day you're called into on a case at the way-too-early hour of 5:30am.

The next hours are filled with the reviewing of said case and the gathering of go-bags.

It isn't until you're on the plane nodding off as Derek speaks about whether or not the team in dealing with a sadistic serial killer that you catch Hotch watching you.

But he's not just watching you, he's headed towards you.

Before you can react or right yourself He's handing you a box of 'see's candies chocolates'.

"I-uh I thought you might need a pick-me up seeing as you were at the office so late last night."

Is the Aaron Hotchner blushing right now?

You accept the box wordlessly, trying to to ignore the team's stares as Hotch returns to his seat and you stuff your mouth full of the chocolate covered caramel bites.

That is until Reid speaks, "I'm sorry did-did I miss something?"

And with that the silence ends as JJ smacks him upside the head, making everyone on the plane laugh.

Emily Whispers in your ear the one thing you were sure you'd never here from any of them.

"I think you just charmed Hotch with your sweet-tooth"

[callofdudes]

Late little Valentine's thing for the boys, their love languages and how they show you affection 😊

This will only include 141. Was busy on my birthday and never got around to this. So before February ends. Can be platonic or romantic.

Heavy on physical affection. Any time he can squeeze in a hug, a high five or really anything, he will.

He's super into encouraging words and will call you something if he sees you passing by. "There's my favorite (lad/lass/lovely/soldier)"

His love language return and send is physical affection, so whenever you want to show him that you love him, physical affection will set him in the right mood.

For Valentine's Day he got you a box of chocolates you really like and a photo of himself, with comic Sans saying, "Don't let anyone steal your swag, this Valentine's."

To show you affection, he's only ever going to do what he knows you're comfortable with. If you're happy with a little peck, he'll go for it.

If you're smaller than him then he'll do that thing where he asks you to sniff his collar and then kisses your forehead. If you're bigger than him he will jump on you. Don't fight it. Hold him. Hold him!! Let him give you a nice good smooch. Don't be afraid- DON'T BE AFRAID! COME BACK!!! HE'S NOT FINISHED!!

Not a huge physical affections guy, just isn't his thing. However, how he does show affection is through acts of service.

Sometimes it may seem that Ghost is being bossy by not letting you do things or that he cleaned your room because he didn't think you could do it on your own. Truth is, he's showing you he loves you.

Ghost took time from his incredibly busy schedule to clean, or tidy, or do something that he knew was so minimal in the grand scheme he might not get praised, but he knows you'll like it.

That's why when he can't sleep at night he may clean. Sweep the common area and clean up the kitchen and wash dishes. Because he knows you guys will come in and need to use the space tomorrow and would appreciate it being clean.

That being said, please, please oh please praise him. I'm not saying he's starved but if you tell him he is doing a good job, or you're proud of him, or thankful for his help?? He might just cry. No, scratch that, he'll excuse himself to catch the waterworks.

You're speaking to his inner child when you praise him. Ghost doesn't do anything in return for praise, but when you offer it, oh please don't let go of him.

Simon knows some flower language, so naturally he goes out to get you some flowers. Whether you look like you'd typically be into flowers or not isn't the question. It's which ones he's getting you, and why.

He got you Azaleas as well as some lilies just to break up the pink. Azaleas being the equivalent of "Take care of yourself for me, temperance and fragile passion"

It's a subtle way, If you know, for him to tell you how he feels without having to say it. And with that he also gets you hotrods. No, not the car, if you have no idea what I'm talking about, here.

If you're smaller than him (which, in most cases you probably are, let's be for real) he'll lean over from behind you and simply rest his chin on the top of your head.

It's something of affection for him, watching the world with you quietly, relaxing with his head resting on yours. Simon's way of saying "I love you."

Gifts are his love language. Whenever he's out and about and he sees a trinket that reminds him of you he'll snatch it and bring it back.

He constantly does this and telling him he doesn't have to doesn't stop him.

For Valentine's Day he'll go all out. He'll buy you chocolate, some flowers to make your office window look a little prettier, and a card too.

To show him affection back, please praise him. Like Ghost, he had to fight a lot in the past for recognition or praise, so you saying "I really appreciate you, in glad you're here, you did a good job picking, you really know me" sends him spiraling.

He'll be at your heel the rest of the day, and you'll happily grant him praise and recognition without him having to claw and scratch for it.

Like John, he does kiss and touch to show affection to those he's close to. But if you are only comfortable with it. He's a mixed bag, and will kiss you all over every single day if he has permission.

If he doesn't, simple touches suffice. Bumping your shoulder on the way by or wrapping his arms around you from behind to smoosh his face into your neck or shoulder blades, depending on how tall you stand.

This man is no pussy, will straight up tell you he loves you and appreciates you. Will make you breakfast on the day and wake you up with a kiss, (or forehead kiss, or both)

He'll let you wear your comfy clothes and will make you stay in bed as you eat. If you couldn't have guessed, he serves through acts of service and gifts!

John Price is always right there, even after a long day to help out. Now, if you leave a trash bag for him on purpose, he'll be stubborn and won't take it out. But if it's on his own terms John will do just about anything for you. You call the shots.

If you want to stay in bed, then that's your call. He certainly isn't complaining. If you want to go out, then you'll go out!

He's a very traditional man, no matter who you are or your style, Price will give you the gentlemen's treatment. Flowers, a bag of chocolates (yes, a whole bag. Come on 141 get on his level)

He'll pretty much pamper you all day. Please pamper him back. He feels loved most when given physical affection and repaid with acts of service. If you clean the house so he doesn't have to then you're a dream.

But even if you just come up behind him and hug him, tell him you love him and appreciate him, that's enough to make his whole week.

You have to do it again though, because he swears that it just rubbed off and he forgot. Do it again. Don't be afraid. DO IT AGAIN.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Heyyy there💖 First off i’d just like to say how obsessed i am with your fics🥹 they are perfect and you really nail the characters perfectly so here’s my request if you don’t mind:

Could i request an angsty fic with Arthur where he and the reader used to be together when they were teenagers and they joined the gang together but the reader left after a few years because she has such an innocent personality (kind of like Mary-Beth) and she just didn’t want to live in the gang with criminals so when she leaves she breaks Arthur’s heart. But they stumble into each other in Valentine (where she works as a waitress) when Arthur, Javier, Charles and Bill go to the saloon. At first their interaction goes very good until that fight breaks out where Arthur beats Tommy, after that the reader is in tears because she hates violence so she storms off behind the saloon but Arthur follows her and it’s there where they start arguing and throwing insults where the reader says that she left cause she didn’t wanna be associated with criminals so Arthur calls her naive and is extra mean to her because he can’t hold all his built up anger and judgment towards her decision to leave him anymore. When he returns to camp that night he can’t stop thinking about their heated interaction so he returns to Valentine to find her and apologise for his rough words.

Sorry for this extra long request but i just love how perfect and detailed your fics are so i knew you would be the best to turn to for this request😊🫶🏻

All We Ever Wanted Was Everything

(Arthur Morgan x Ex!Fem!Reader Angst/Fluff)

No smut sorry didn't feel like adding it, also thank u so much ur compliments mean so much to me 😭

Warnings: arguing, depictions of violence, blood

Intimacy is the art of licking wounds. And the way Arthur loved was akin to the way a dog nurses an open wound, laving tongue and bared teeth and all. The truth was, Arthur longed to be loved so much that it made him sick. The smallest gesture of affection would bring a lump to his throat, and when he would inevitably fall into his grave, it would seep with all the longing he’s ever done. But like a dog, he dangles on his leash; and his need grows teeth. There are teeth marks on everything Arthur has ever loved.

Valentine was bleak, but it still maintained that hustle and bustle of a well-oiled machine. The town saw the daily passage of horse drawn carriages and hard working folks. Though everyone seemed to be there unwillingly, as though they had nowhere else to go; as though this was the only option they had. Such was the case for Arthur. He found himself left with no choice but to acquaint himself with the people of Valentine as the gang moved further east. The main road down Valentine had taken on the pungent weight of horse manure and wet earth. Arthur’s heavy leather boots stomped through mud, leaving deep, smeared imprints that proved he had been there. They traced him all the way towards the saloon, where he so ungracefully tracked more mud up the wooden steps and inside the establishment. He heard Javier’s voice call out distantly from inside.

He pushed open the dusty wooden doors of the saloon, the hinges groaning and squeaking as it let in another customer (it seemed even the furniture was equally as weary as the townspeople). The poignant scent of sweat, body odor, and what could otherwise simply be described as testosterone hung lowly amidst herds of inebriated men. The low hum of chatter and the lively playing of piano was nearly drowned out by Javier’s obnoxious hollering. He eyed the ox skull hanging decoratively on the wooden pillar ahead of him, as well as the dull, peeling wallpaper. The place was kempt, but just barely. Similar to the town outside, with folks just as tired and hard working coming through here. He approached Javier and Charles at the bar, who were accompanied by two women. Even with their backs turned to him, Arthur could tell they were escorts. With one of them having an off the shoulder blouse, a beguiling attempt at appearing more enticing; her burnt orange hair tied lowly into a bun that rested just above a black choker. Her counterpart was of a darker complexion, and she sported a floral top with a singular black braid cascading down her right shoulder; they both wore long purple skirts. Arthur sneered. ‘Unbelievable’ he thought to himself.

“Oh, Arthur!” Javier looked surprised to see him, his enthusiasm suggesting ulterior motives. Javier was not yet reeling drunk, but he was working on it (Arthur could tell the moment he saw the group raising shots together when he walked in).

“Arthur, Arthur, come here, come here, come over here” Javier pulled Arthur in by his shoulder, the rest of the group turning to face him. Wordlessly, he looked at Charles and gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

“I want you to meet our new friends.” Javier added.

Arthur looked utterly unimpressed by Charles and Javier’s ‘friends’. Arthur stood to the side, eyeing the women up and down, the ginger one busty, exhibiting her cleavage almost proudly. He could tell the two men were here for a lay. Though perhaps, he supposed they were fulfilling their duty of acquainting themselves with the townspeople after all.

“Pleased to meet you.” Arthur greeted flatly, nodding his head.

“Well ain't you just the tough as teak mountain man.” One of the women teased coyly.

“Oh, you be quiet, Anastasia! Anyone can tell this one is a pussy cat!” The other one added.

Javier seemed to butt in overzealously.

“Exactly, yes he’s a pussy…cat. Ain't that so Arthur?” Javier seemed entranced by these women, his judgement clouded by lust. Arthur thought it only bothersome. Charles said nothing the whole time, but Arthur knew he was just as enraptured as Javier was; spanning one of his hands behind one of the women's backs.

“Whatever you say.” Arthur murmured. “How much you cost anyway?”

The women looked at him scornfully.

“Well ain’t that a nice way to talk to a lady?” One of them said sarcastically. Javier and Charles looked on awkwardly, unsure of how to aid the situation.

“Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady.” Arthur put emphasis on lady, even stepping forward to punctuate his sarcasm. That seemed to be the last straw, as the two women excused themselves and walked elsewhere, their unwillingness to stick around any longer suggesting that years in their business had diminished their tolerance for such derision. Javier and Charles looked on in disappointment, watching as the objects of their desires made themselves scarce.

“Well, I must say, you got a fine way with the women amigo…” Javier sighed in defeat, retreating back to the bar and leaning his elbows on the counter.

“Yeah, a regular and dandy charmer.” Arthur humored. He picked up one of the abandoned shots of whisky on the counter, throwing back the liquid and letting it simmer its way down his gullet. He cleared his throat, not expecting it to be quite so potent. Valentine's saloon didn’t feel quite as dismal as Arthur had expected, despite its appearance. Valentine had its fair share of shady gray alleyways and sordid, dodgy customers ducking in and out of low dark doorways, but the bar seemed lively enough.

“Is there anything else I can get you boys?” A strangely familiar voice called out. It was soft, but very sharp. It cut through Arthur’s tedious judgment like a serrated knife through butter. Pleasantly easy, but jarring. Arthur looked up, blinking away disbelief, as he beheld what he thought might’ve been a mirage in the middle of this stalemate of a town.

Arthur’s eyes squinted as he studied your face, noting with fondness the familiar way your eyes looked at him with a deep seated compassion. Your hair seemed to float around you almost angelically, the wispy ends of your hair illuminated by the gentle lighting coming in from the saloon windows— making it appear as though you were materializing from a dream. But when the hardness of your silhouette came into focus, you proved to be very real. Your hands maintained the same gentleness they had years ago. Your skin had matured wonderfully into a sophisticated womanhood. You had matured wonderfully. Arthur could still see teeth marks all over you.

“(Name)?” Arthur whispered. He watched the way your face hardened with realization before melting into a warm smile.

“Arthur?” You breathed, tightening your fists and digging your nails into your palm as if it would wake you up from this dream-like sequence. Charles and Javier looked at each other knowingly, a silent agreement between the two of them to move away from the obviously intimate scene. Arthur barely took notice of their absence; he was too entranced by the sight before him.

“Oh my god…” Your disbelief turned into happiness, your gasps turning into airy laughs. “How long has it been?” You exclaimed, becoming suddenly very excited. Part of you wanted to jump over the counter and pat Arthur down, unable to fathom that this was really him. Out of some sort of second instinct, you placed your hand over his, as if touching him would ground you in reality. He flinched, but he did not move his hand away, rather, he felt a sprinkling of butterflies in his stomach. Unlike yours, his hands had a new roughness to them, decorated with scars and calluses. These hands held stories; memories.

“How have you been?” You asked, feeling the faint but familiar feeling of tears well up in your eyes. Arthur was bashful, you could tell from the way he was hiding his face with his hat, not quite capable of looking you in the eye again.

“I’ve been just fine.” He smiled politely and nodded, fully taking your hand into his and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. There was a shakiness in the way he did this; you felt his hands tremble softly. In another act of familiarity, you placed your other hand over his, cupping his own fully. There was a noticeable tension in you as you contemplated your next question.

“You still ride with…uh…” You did not complete your sentence. Both of you knew you didn’t need to. He nodded in response, his smile hardening.

“Yes, still do.”

“Well… it’s good to hear you’re doing good Arthur.” You smiled. The two of you exchanged committal half smiles, not yet letting go of one another’s hands. You seemed to study each other for a moment, and despite customers calling for you, Arthur did not want you to go. And you seemed in no hurry to go either.

You shook your head gently in contemplation.

“Arthur, I… I’ve missed—”

In the not so far off distance, you listened, then watched, as two men bumped into each other. Your stomach dropped in fear as you watched the bigger of the two head-butt the other man, knocking him into a table occupied by patrons. Your hands tightened around Arthur’s as you heard a bottle break, and in a split second, the hammer dropped; the entire bar dissolving into a brawl. All around you, fists began flying and chairs were picked up, as men knocked into eachothers and swung in their clumsy, drunken haze. The testosterone in this saloon alone was nearly tangible. You looked to your left and watched the few women there flee out the back door. With Arthur’s hand still in your own, you began walking towards the back, half expecting him to come along with you.

But to no one’s surprise, and to your disappointment, you watched as he turned his back and threw himself headfirst into the fight. As the only woman there now, you felt safest behind the bar. You feared that if you stepped out, you’d be caught in someone’s flurry of fighting. You backed into the mahogany cases of liquor behind you, feeling the way the bottles vibrated and shook with the far off slamming of bodies against the floor. Your eyes remained fixated on Arthur, and you felt your blood run cold when you saw a man come at him, putting his entire body weight into swinging at him.

His name caught in your throat, but it quickly died down when Arthur dodged the punch, stepping to the side before landing a flurry of punches to the man, kicking him away with his boot. You watched in morbid mesmerization as Arthur continued to fight the man, the fight bordering on unfair as Arthur easily out did the man with skill born of experience. His face was already beginning to bruise a nasty red and deep purple after each punch he took, but Arthur never faltered. Eventually, he knocked the man out cold against a chair, and relentlessly, Arthur moved onto the next. He headed to a group of three men this time, seemingly on his way to help his friend; the same man who started this entire fight.

Arthur’s determination seemed to be helping his friends out of losing fights; it appeared this was something he was used to. Like it was just another daily occurrence for him. But to you, this senseless fighting had no other meaning than to prove who could punch harder.

“What the hell is going on down here?!” Another burling man came stomping down the stairs, his ego just as big as he was, it seemed. Only a man with an inflated sense of self would insert himself into this mess, you thought. You ducked behind the counter, but peered over just enough so that you could see what was going on. You looked to your left, briefly, and saw another one of Arthur’s companions fighting a man. Another man pleaded with this “Tommy” to not involve himself. Your throat became dry as you saw him, with ease, knock back Arthur’s other friend.

Arthur tried to approach Tommy and Javier, but was promptly jumped by another man who wrapped his arm around his neck from behind. Arthur had to continually jab his elbow into the man in order to get him off, the struggle ensuing for excruciatingly long. As soon as Arthur threw him off, he made sure to turn around and land a punch in his jugular, knocking him out. Arthur’s fighting would’ve impressed you, if not for the fact you were terrified.

“Javier could use some help, Morgan!” Bill called out from across the bar.

You watched in terror as Arthur confidently, and calmly, sauntered up behind Tommy, who was ruthlessly slamming Javier into a table over and over, before landing a punch behind Tommy’s head. The impact barely seemed to phase Tommy, before he calmly turned around and punched Arthur across the jaw. The sound of fist meeting flesh made you squirm, especially when it was Arthur’s. You nearly shrieked as you watched Tommy grapple Arthur’s shoulders brutishly before throwing him over the same table. His body tumbled over the surface before landing on the floor with a grunt and a thud. To add insult to injury (and even more injury), Tommy walked around the table and picked Arthur up off the floor once again, before sending his body crashing through the saloon window.

“Oh my god!” You screamed, not caring for your own safety anymore as you followed the scene outside.

Arthur crashed through the glass, gaining new cuts and bruises as he rolled off the wooden porch and onto the mud. He skid across the earth, smothering his jacket and pants with filth. He stood wearily, taking notice of the crowd forming around them. Cold rain poured down on him, only making the surface beneath him even more slippery.

“Come on, pretty boy.” Tommy’s voice was gravelly as he marched down the wooden steps, a parallel to the way Arthur had marched up them earlier.

“Pretty boy? You’re kidding me. Pretty boy?” At this point, Arthur wasn’t sure why he was fighting. To not die, he supposed. He could’ve stepped away at an earlier point, but pride did not allow him to. Now he was stuck in this. The two sized each other up as they got into fighting stances, then Tommy stepped forward and grabbed Arthur’s neck, throwing him to the side.

You heard a cacophony of horrified screams, disapproving howls, and cheers for either Tommy or Arthur. You saw the rage sizzling in Arthur, and felt a combination of pity, horror, and disappointment. It’d been so many years since you last saw him, so many you had lost count, and this was the first time you had seen him since then. The only thing that had changed was how his eyes and hands had hardened. And suddenly, the calluses and cuts on his knuckles that you had seen earlier seemed to explain themselves.

For a moment, Tommy seemed to have gotten the upper hand on Arthur, and you feared the worst. You weren’t sure how far this would go, but your body flinched with each punch you saw Arthur tank. But against all odds, Arthur clambered on top of Tommy.

A smattering of blood and mud smeared all over Arthur’s face, he grunted with each brutal punch he landed onto Tommy’s head. He felt Tommy claw at the thick leather of his jacket, attempting to shove his face away, but Arthur persisted. Arthur got some sort of wretched exultation out of watching the way Tommy’s face turned into one of helplessness. His body thrashed and his limbs flailed as Arthur continued to strike his head, the skin breaking and bleeding from the repeated impact.

Arthur grit his teeth so hard he swore a tooth nearly cracked. He had tuned out the cheering surrounding him, an uninterrupted ringing replacing any other discernible sounds. The only thing he could focus on was the way he would slam his fist, over and over into Tommy’s head, as if in hypnosis. The man below him was a pitiful, bloody pulp; reaching his arms up as if he were begging for some unlikely act of mercy. But Arthur would punch again, and again, and again…

“Stop! Stop! Please!” You watched as Mr. Downes bravely stepped forward, pleading desperately with Arthur to stop. Arthur raised his fist, but did not connect it, instead looking at Mr. Downes. Arthur and Mr. Downes exchanged a few more words before Arthur pushed past him, covered in mud and all, limping away from the scene and pushing past people.

He caught sight of you looking on tearfully, and the gravity of what he had just done crashed down on him all at once when you turned your back and scurried down the alley besides the saloon. Arthur abandoned any resolve he had and followed you. You heard the rugged breathing and heavy footsteps behind you, which only terrified and spurred you on to run deeper into the alley. You turned the corner, back pressed against the rear wall of the saloon. You held your breath, and for a terrifying few seconds, heard the footsteps approaching. As if it were some sort of deliberate jump scare, you yelped when Arthur turned the corner and faced you. Normally you’d find the mud revolting, but now it served to scare you. It made Arthur seem all the more savage, traces of seething rage still present in his eyes. His hair was wild, face bruised and beaten; his blood mixed with mud and smeared his face in a grim unfamiliarity. He took a step towards you, and you flinched, trying to back away but you could not; you could only shuffle to the side.

At once, Arthur was overcome with an unfathomable sense of self hatred and disgust upon seeing the fear present in your face. He felt sickened with himself, and was given a moment of clarity as he looked down at his dirtied hands, his mud smeared clothes, his bruises and bleeding knuckles. Arthur saw his reflection in the window next to you, the person staring back at him unfamiliar, yet startlingly recognizable all the same.

“(Name)—”

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!”

Arthur’s eyes began stinging, a deep pang hitting his chest. His shoulders slumped and his body sagged, contracting your squared and tensed shoulders, your arms lifted and crossed over your chest protectively.

“You… You… I… I thought maybe you might’ve changed! But you proved me wrong.” You were sobbing at this point, and you weren’t sure whether you were trembling from your anger or fear. Probably both. Arthur could not find the words to respond.

“How dare you! Come into our town, into our businesses, and start a fight! And beat on us like you own the place! You beat that man half to death! WHAT FOR?” Your body buzzed in anxiety, unable to hold in any more of your anger as you shook.

“(Name), he was going to kill Javier back there if I didn’t—”

“You’re an animal!”

Arthur seemed to forget himself once more, feeling rage upon being called an animal. But perhaps it was more than just being insulted. Perhaps it was years of hurt and heartbreak behind his words.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. Listen to yourself—.” He spat through grit teeth.

“Oh I know!” You huffed, lowering your arms now. “Which is exactly why I left in the first place. Why I left you.”

You both felt that one, Arthur the most. The sting was reminiscent of being stabbed in the chest. He turned his sadness to anger, fueling the burning flame inside his chest. It kept him going.

“You left what we had, the good thing that we had, so that you could come and work at some dead end town? Is this really the life you want? Is your way of living any better than what we do?”

“I live a good honest life now!”

“You’re just a naive girl who doesn’t know that sometimes, this is all we got. Some of us don’t have the luxury of being able to just turn away and start anew. For some of us, we only have each other!”

You were enraged at this point, enough to let your guard down and walk up directly in front of him, sizing him up almost.

“I’d rather die working than live my life as a despicable criminal living with a lowdown gang constantly on the run. If that’s your idea of a life, then good god Mister Morgan, I pity you.” Your every word dripped with venom. And you made sure Arthur felt every bit of it, even going as far as to jab your finger in his chest.

“You’re a brat.” He growled. “You seem to forget where you come from. You were once a part of the gang, you went through exactly what I went through and you knew what it was like. And now you wanna act like you’re better than me? Like you’re above me?” He looked back down at you with malice, a hidden layer of hurt and sadness just beneath the surface. He looked somewhere between a kicked puppy and a crazed, rabid dog who’d been rolling in mud.

You said nothing in return, instead falling into some sort of stare off. He looked at you expectantly, but did not anticipate an answer. It was as if by looking into your eyes or expression, he could catch a slight change in your expression that indicated, just maybe, that you did not mean what you were saying. That this was all some adrenaline fueled attack on him after having watched him savagely beat a man. But even he could realize the irony in that line of thought.

But not once did your face soften, or look away from him in a show of discomfort or even intimidation. You stood your ground, heels firmly planted on the mud beneath you both.

Wordlessly, but with a grunt, Arthur moved past you, his arm brushing past and saturating some of your skin and clothes with mud. Arthur grumbled lowly to himself as every fiber in his body urged him to turn around and look at you one last time, to throw himself at your feet and ask if you really meant what you said, but his pride did not allow him.

Even as Dutch spoke to him at the front of the shop, his ears ringed and obstructed any other words from entering and being processed (He hadn’t even questioned Dutch’s sudden appearance with Trelawny). Arthur seemed to look past anyone who spoke to him, only nodding in response when they asked “are you listening?”. It was only when he was able to dunk himself in a nearby barrel of water, did the striking coldness snap him back to reality; the gritty veil over his consciousness being washed away.

The ride back towards camp was a gap in Arthur’s memory. He fell back into a pit of thought that tunneled his vision once again. He was all at once, keenly and uncomfortably aware of every sound and movement around him, but he could not be bothered to give it any thought. The shockwave of impact that traveled up through his body as he got off of his horse rather clumsily did not shake him from his pensive state. He wearily returned the greetings that people sent his way, not in the mood to entertain any sort of conversation with anyone. Arthur wanted nothing more now, than to rest his sore and aching muscles. He changed out of his caked, filthy clothes and changed into his union suit, the clean fabric feeling angelic in comparison to the squalid state of his clothes. His joints began to throb suddenly, as if the pain was triggered at once by laying on his cot, which suddenly seemed to sky rocket in comfortability. A deep ache settled into his side; the side he had landed on after being thrown.

His bed echoed his groan as he rested his weight on it, a large sigh leaving him as pain settled into every cell of his body. His exhaustion overtook him as he slid his eyes shut; his head hitting his pillow like there was a weight tied around his neck. Every bit of his being screamed for sleep, but his racing mind would not allow rest. He thought of you: the terrified look in your eyes after he followed you behind the saloon, the way you looked akin to a wild, injured animal backed up into a corner. He was sure he looked the same.

His bodily aches were accompanied by the pang in his chest as he remembered your heavy words. He squeezed his eyes in an attempt to prevent tears from surfacing, but the pressures in his nasal passages proved to be too much. He turned his back away from camp so that no one could see just how pathetic he looked.

The insults on him, his gang, his way of life. They were all too much to bear. He did not anticipate seeing you at all. He looked back regretfully on how the sweet encounter had turned so sour so quickly; part of him blamed Bill. He could at least find solace in the fact that you had missed him after all these years. As he did. Though he had had women since then, he never did quite forget about you. A boy never forgets his first love. And now that he was a man, those feelings amplified, and he knew it had been more than just puppy love. Part of him could not understand your rejection of the lifestyle. When you initially left the gang, and Arthur by proxy, you explained you could not withstand the violence and bloodshed, but that you respected and understood that this was his way of life, the only way of life he had known, even before he met you and joined the gang. But with the way he had heard you speak so lowly of the gang, he could not understand where all your compassion had gone, especially since you had been part of it.

Part of him still held onto a childlike sense of anger, feeling as though you wronged him in leaving him. But he could at least understand why you decided to up and leave. Perhaps his own judgment of your life had been harsh. You weren’t wrong in saying you lived an honest life, objectively it was better than his. You got to live freely without fear of the law, you made honest clean money, and as far as he knew, you only had yourself to support with the money you made. Arthur hadn’t even considered the possibility you were seeing someone, his stomach dropping at the thought. He was guilt ridden and anxious, nauseated by the thoughts. His temporary solution would be falling asleep to quell it.

When Arthur awoke, it was nighttime. The sun had set, the sky tinged with dark purple that faded into night. Most of the activity around camp had calmed, but many people were still awake. Arthur stood at once, bee lining towards his horse. He ignored any gang members that attempted to come forth and ask him if he was okay, where he was going. Wordlessly, he mounted his horse and spurred it on, riding back towards Valentine.

Perhaps it was unwise to go back into town so soon after raising hell there. But Arthur couldn’t care less. His objective at the moment was to see you. And he hoped to god you’d still be at the saloon. His heart thrummed in time with his horses running, and he began to pant as if he was the one doing the physical activity. Perhaps it was the anxiety that made him so short of breath.

He saw the promising glow of Valentine as he approached the small town, pulling on his horse's reins to try and slow down. His horse trotted down the streets of now dried earth, the prints of shoes and wheels having dried up into casts. He cringed internally when he saw the still broken window of the saloon, the glass having been cleaned up long ago. Luckily for him though, the lights of the saloon were on, and he heard the same lively piano from before. From the outside, it was almost as if nothing had ever happened, but he knew that as soon as he stepped inside, all heads would turn in his direction and stare him down. Arthur was used to looks, he would pay it no mind. But it was the thought of you sending him a disgusted look his way that had his head spinning in apprehensiveness.

Arthur was not a man who was scared of confrontation, and when it came to violence, he was best at letting his fists speak for him. But for more emotional matters, he sounded as eloquent as a child learning how to read for the first time. He would get stuck on using the right combination of words, and would opt towards not saying much at all. But this was something he wanted, and he knew that if was going to ask for your forgiveness, he’d have to put effort into sounding decent.

The hinges of the saloon doors creaked, and as Arthur expected, the volume level of the saloon lowered, the lively chatter dissolving into whispers and grumbles of threats. He looked over towards the bar to see if coming here had been worth his time. And there you were, standing in your confused, and frankly appalled, glory. You were wiping down a glass, continuing for a moment too long as you stared at him.

You had not expected to see him back here, grimacing at the tender purple skin of his cheek. Part of you felt pity, but it was replaced by indifference as you remembered he brought the injuries onto himself. As he began walking towards you, you slammed the glass down on the counter with a sigh and rolled your eyes. The sudden slam startling, but not fully waking, the passed out patron slumped against the counter.

“What are you doing here.” You asked, hand on your hip. It came out as less of a question and more as a statement professing your annoyance. Arthur leaned on the counter, moving his head to the side so he could look anywhere but at you as he attempted to find the right words to start off with. He opened and closed his mouth, and you were beginning to get impatient.

“I’m sorry…”

You were about to demand Arthur either leave or speak up, until you heard his meek apology. You felt your facial muscles relax from the scowl you had held for so long.

“What?” You asked in disbelief.

Arthur fidgeted where he stood, occupying himself by drumming his fingers along the counter. You lowered your arms to your side, fidgeting as well.

“I’m sorry too.”

A moment of awkward silence hung over the two of you before you grabbed his hand; bruised and callused, taken into soft and gentle. You pursed your lips in a half hearted smile before nodding your head towards the stairs. Before Arthur could even understand what you were implying, you were leading him past the bar counter and up the stairs towards a private room.

“What do we need this for? I just wanted to apologize…”

“I know. I just didn’t want my patrons hearing, y’know…” You laughed awkwardly. “A little privacy is nice, they don’t exactly keep their noses to themselves.” You fumbled with your keys, a sweat forming on the back of your neck as you struggled to jam the key into the lock before turning it. Arthur found it rather suggestive, but he decided to move along anyway. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have the hots for you anymore.

The two of you stiffly scooted over towards the bed; first you, then him, the bed dipping significantly from his weight. The sudden dip caused you to bump into his arm, which neither of you wanted to acknowledge outright. Your thighs rubbed against each other, and at last, you were able to see side by side how much Arthur had grown since you last saw him. Seeing the way he dwarfed you tugged at your heart strings.

“Oh, Arthur… How I’ve missed you… I’m so sorry for saying all those nasty things. And I know it’s no excuse but I was scared and… I felt a little betrayed that you had gone off to fight instead of… coming with me.”

Arthur nodded as you spoke, processing each word.

“And I know I shouldn’t have expected that. They’re your gang afterall, they’re your family. And I don’t think you’re all lowdown, or any of those nasty things I said.” You were gripping Arthur’s arm by now, as if holding onto him at that moment might better help him understand and accept your apology.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He began. “I’m a fool and fighting’s all I know. It’s all I’ve ever known. I ain’t the smartest… but…” Arthur seemed to lose his train of thought, physically pained by his own mental fumbling. “I’m just trying to say that I’m sorry. I especially don’t have any right to judge your lifestyle.”

It was your turn to nod, slowly breaking into a smile.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I wanted to see you.”

The two of you slowly began to intertwine hands, shyly at first, until you fully sent it and gripped his fully. You felt his arm go tense against you as he looked back and forth from where you two conjoined to your face. The tension in the air had a nostalgic feel to it. It brought you back to all those years ago when you and Arthur had first gotten together. You were so young then. Holding hands also allowed you to feel the size difference, causing the both of you to blush.

“You’ve uh… really grown.” You giggled together. “I mean, you always were much larger than me but my my…”

Arthur nodded, looking down at the noticeable differences between you.

“Yeah, I always did love giving you piggy back rides.” He added. The recalling of the juvenile memory had you laughing even more.

“Oh, how I missed those! And you were always so helpful. Could be really helpful to have you around the saloon, can intimidate some guys away like you did for me when we were younger.”

“Gladly will, sweetheart.”

As the laughter died down, you hesitantly leaned upwards, looking for a sign to stop on his face. Though with more hesitation, you abstained from kissing him.

That is, until he went ahead and did it himself. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face, using the other arm to wrap around your waist and hold you close, as though you might disappear if he didn’t. Your lips molded perfectly against one another. It felt like the reunion of lips that should’ve always been together. And even though you had attempted to peel away from Arthur for so long, the meeting was like two sides of a wound finally mending back together.

The muffled chatter of the downstairs saloon was drowned out by your and his heavy breathing. You pushed your own lips hard against his teeth, gripping the downy tuft of hair at the base of his neck. He was taken aback by your enthusiasm but returned it nonetheless. The men you had had in Arthur’s absence were insipid compared to his passionate kisses. The two of you idly palmed and groped each other, the same tenderness as when you two were younger, but with the renewed passion of lovers long separated, finally reuniting with a more carnal desire.

Memories come in waves, and tonight, you were drowning.

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PHEW this took me days, I can finally work on all my other requests. Thanks for being patient y'all

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All We Ever Wanted Was Everything - Bauhaus

[dyns33]

The Ruby

Morpheus x Female reader 

Happy valentine day in advance for everyone, taken or single. 

The ruby was on a bench, in the middle of a park, as if someone had left it there for Y/N to find.

Or that someone just lost it, since Y/N didn't believe in destiny or that sort of thing.

There was a strange light when she took the ruby, but she thought it must be the sun. Then, as she walked home, she wondered if she should take it to the police, to make sure the owner wasn't looking for it everywhere.

     "No. Keep me with you. I want to stay with you."

That little voice in her head should have scared her, but Y/N was too tired to think straight. Ever since she was born, the world had suffered from the sleeping sickness, and she had been no exception.

She managed to fall asleep, sometimes, and she was lucky to always wake up, but her sleep was not calm, not restful, and these nights were terribly agitated by nightmares.

So she took the ruby home, laying it by her bed and watching it before falling asleep.

Y/N had never had such a magnificent object, and she thought that she would never dare to wear it, for fear of breaking it, losing it or having it stolen. It was fine in her bedroom, where she could admire it before she closed her eyes for several hours, and it  would the first thing she would see when she woke up.

The first night with the ruby was the best night of her life. She slept for nine hours, without interruption, without nightmares, without the slightest problem. Even though she didn't believe in destiny and that sort of thing, she considered the ruby to be a lucky charm, which she kissed when she got up.

     "Thank you for this good night." she said before going to wash up and get ready for her long day.

It became a ritual. She spokea bit to the ruby, because it seemed stupid, but she wished it a good night in the evening, she said hello to it when she woke up, and above all she thanked it for having watched over her during her sleep.

Because for several months, her nights were all perfect. She even started having dreams. In any case, what she had imagined as good dreams. Never having had a good dream, she had been daydreaming since her childhood, soaking up books, films, music, to forget the cruelty of the world, and those equally painful nights.

Now she had the chance to dream for real. Which seemed unfair, because the rest of the world continued to suffer from the sleeping sickness.

To tell the truth, she hadn't really asked for sweet dreams, and no doubt it offered them to her in thanks, for not having abandoned it on the bench. So she thanked the ruby for all that, without ever asking anything else. Sometimes she felt like a small voice was answering her, but she wasn't paying attention.

This lasted, until its rightful owner appeared in her living room, in a whirlwind of sand.

     "Y/N Y/L/N, you have in your possession something that belongs to me that was stolen and then lost."

     "... What ?" was the only thing she managed to utter, as she hid behind her couch.

     "Hmm. I see you haven't used it. Not really. Surprisingly, most mortals would have taken its power to make their dreams come true, but you... You only asked for access to my kingdom, not to rule it, but to sleep normally, like before I was imprisoned."

     "I don't understand at all what you are talking about."

Without saying a word, the dark stranger went into the bedroom, approaching the ruby, which he touched with one of his long white fingers. But he didn't take it.

     "I see. Don't you recognize me ? I am your master. Yes, I understand. She treated you well, didn't corrupt you and fed you her dreams, but it's time to go home."

     "The ruby... It's yours ?" Y/N asked shyly while standing near the door.

     "Yes. Part of me, part of my power. It seems to have attached itself to you. Will you give it to me, or will you fight to keep it ? I'm warning you, I just punished nightmares to get my sand, and I I fought Lucifer in the Underworld for my helmet, you can't do anything against me."

     "Oh. No, no, if that's your ruby, you can take it. I didn't know... I'm sorry."

     "Hmm. Yes, I can see. No, you can't stay with her, I need you to rebuild my kingdom. Very well. Y/N Y/L/N, thank you for your kindness and your intelligence. As a reward, you will continue to have calm and sweet nights."

Before she could answer, he was gone, taking the ruby with him. Y/N thought she had a dream, but the absence of her lucky charm forced her to admit that something weird had happened.

The sleeping sickness abruptly ceased, but as the stranger had promised, she had no more nightmares, ever.

Y/N didn't think she would ever see him and his ruby again.

Then, when she was sure she had fallen asleep in her bed, she opened her eyes in a cold, damp place, in the company of a raven, which began to speak after jumping up and turning towards her.

     "Boss ? No, you're not the boss. But you have his ruby ! Thief !"

     "What ? Boss ? His ruby ? No, I haven't..." Y/N said before feeling a weight on hier chest and discovering the ruby hanging from her neck. "... How ? I don't understand, I gave it back to that funny guy."

     "Dream of the Endless is not a funny guy. Well, okay, he's not good with people and he can be a little scary, but show some respect !"

     "Dream, is that his name ?"

     "You don't listen much, do you ?" sighed the raven. "So you're the human who found the ruby and gave it back to the boss ? Weird. He's supposed to come here for a fight, against a demon. Again. It's a verbal game, but that's quite violent. I don't understand why you're here, they said the master of the... Oh. Ooooooh."

     "Ooooooh, what ?"

     "He said the ruby wanted to stay with you. It seems like he still considers you its master, and so… You're the one who has to face the demon. Shit."

     "Shit, indeed. This is my first nightmare in weeks and it's really weird."

The little raven continued to speak to her, repeating that it was not a nightmare, that it was real, that it was dangerous and that she could die if she was not careful, but Y/N no longer heard him, touching the ruby and watching it closely, its blush reflecting in her eyes and the voice whispering in her head that everything would be fine, he wouldn't let anyone hurt her, he was happy to see her again, he had missed her.

     "You don't listen to me at all." muttered the raven, landing on her shoulder. "Just like the boss."

     "What? Oh, sorry. I think it's talking to me. But that's impossible, it's a ruby."

     “It's not just a ruby, it's Lord Morpheus's ruby. He put a part of himself and his powers into this artifact, and so he's sentient. And I think he likes you."

Not knowing what to make of this information, Y/N simply nodded, looking back at the sparkling ruby.

A frightening noise then echoed in the cave, indicating that the demon was waiting for them, for his famous fight. Except Y/N wasn't a fighter, even with words. She had no chance of winning.

     "I can try to go get the boss. Or say there was a mistake and the fight needs to be postponed." proposed the raven. "But I don't think that's possible, and if you lose, not only will you die, but the Dreaming will be lost."

     "I’m scared."

     "I know. I'm sorry."

     "Thank you, little raven."

     "Matthew. My name is Matthew, I'm not little, and I will stay with you. Everything will be fine. You have to have hope, nothing can kill hope."

Except that the demon was truly the ugliest, scariest creature Y/N had ever had, and even with the ruby whispering reassuring words in her mind, and Matthew trying to help her with answers, she ended up on her knees, crying, moaning and trying to catch her breath.

     "It'll be OK." repeated Matthew who didn't seem to believe what he was saying at all. "He said he was the Sun. There are plenty of things to beat the sun, like sunscreen, or an umbrella !"

     "I am tired..."

     “No, we have to fight !"

     "My love. Leave it to me. Don't be afraid."

     "Yes, alright."

     "I'll miss you."

A strange, but pleasant, loving warmth then took hold of her whole being and Y/N suddenly stood up, stopping to breathe for a few seconds, while her eyes went black and her voice changed.

     "I am Time." growled the voice from the back of her throat. "First creation of the creator, father of the beings of this world, and passing for everything, even you, warm, tiny, dull sun, who was not when I arrived, and who will not be after I'm gone, from dust to nothingness, and nothing more, nothing, ever, always, ME ! Because there is only me to move the universe, to give birth and death, and nothing, nothing can stop me !"

Seeming to be scared, seeing that he could not answer, the demon began to tremble with rage, before throwing himself on Y/N with a blade, probably thinking that if he killed her, he would win unworthily.

The ruby then began to glow, vibrating, before emitting a shrill sound and glowing, pushing the creature back and sending it far, far away, into a nightmare world.

As Y/N coughed and tried to come to her senses, the raven let out a cross before curtsying.

     "Boss... She won ! But she's in bad shape, and... Your ruby... I don't have good news."

     "I know, Matthew. I felt it, I felt that part of me coming back. I had forgotten all that I had put in this ruby, and I did not know what had been born there. Breathe, Y/N Y/L/N. Be proud of your victory."

     "It's not my victory." she said harshly, rubbing her throat.

     "Maybe not. But I would never have dared to mention my father's name, and Destiny had warned me, saying that I couldn't win this battle, only the master of the ruby could. He was talking about you, who took and cherished it, asking nothing of it and returning it to me without hesitation. I understand why he loved you. I feel what he felt. My love, it is time for you to return home. The power of my ruby was not for mortals, you must be exhausted. I promised you quiet nights, forgive me for this. I won't let anything happen to you again, I swear."

Y/N felt lips land on her forehead, and when she opened her eyes again, she was in her bed, as if nothing had happened. So a dream. A simple nightmare with a beautiful ending.

Turning her head, she saw that the ruby was still gone, and sadly she got up to go shower, have breakfast and follow her day.

But as she was making tea, she heard a tapping against her window. It was strange to see a raven staring at her, tapping again when she didn't approach and continuing until she opened.

     "Hi kid."

      "... Hello. Matthew ?"

     "You remember me, cool. The boss said you might not remember, humans forget things sometimes. You okay ? I was worried, wanted to check on you. The boss said that was fine, but he didn't seem sure. I think he's worried too. And that he misses you. He was already intrigued when he met you, but now that he has the feelings of his ruby, he has eyes that sparkle and he's smiling. That's a bit scary. I think he likes you. Anyway. You're really okay ?"

     "I believe so. Was it real ?"

     "Yes, I told you, but you weren't listening to me."

      "And the man... Dream... You say he likes me ?"

     "You cared for his ruby, you're close to his kingdom, you're kinda cute, you fought on his behalf, and his ruby now destroyed to protect you was obviously head over heels in love with you. Yes, he likes you. More than likes. I'm new, I've never seen him in love, but Lucienne and Mervyn say it doesn't bode well for us. Be careful. Maybe everything will be fine, maybe not, only Destin knows, and he won't let me read his stupid book. Selfish."

After more or less stealing a cookie from her, Matthew walked away, leaving her with more questions than answers, and feeling like she was losing her mind. But Y/N finished her tea, spent her day normally, and went to bed like every night.

The only difference was that she turned to the window, watching the starry sky, and whispering goodnight as she did with the ruby.

And in the dark, as she drifted off to sleep, she heard a voice answer her.

     "Good night my love. I'm waiting for you."                                                          

[itdobe-foggy]

Real [Foggy Nelson x reader]

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day from me to you! Here’s a fluffy Foggy fic. Also, I listened to so many different playlists on Spotify while writing this. This roughly takes place in 1x12 of the show (divider by saradika)

Thanks to @writings-of-a-demigod and @writeroutoftime for helping out!!!!!

Summary: After finding out Matt is Daredevil, Foggy begins to question everything. He sees you and that all goes away, but what will happen when you two start talking under the New York stars?

Word Count: 2,090

Warnings: none, Matt is DD (implied), fluff (like tooth-rotting), bad writing reader has at least medium-length hair (mentioned once)

With heavy steps, Foggy walks up the stairs to the office, an invisible weight on his shoulders.  ‘Was anything Matt ever told the truth? Were they ever even friends? Was anything around him real?’ Then he thought back to you. ‘If nothing else…’ he thought. ‘If nothing else, these feelings are real.’ He turned the metal knob to the office, opening the door.

Everything in and about this place reminds him of Matt. All their time together in college, the laughs they shared, the struggles they promised to get through together, certain awards and knick-knacks decorating their desks, and… you. You, asleep at the desk in the middle of the twin offices. Your hair sprawled over your shoulders, falling on the folders and pictures beneath your arms. 

His features soften a bit, glad Matt isn’t here, glad to see that someone can have some peace around here. All Foggy could do was think about the betrayal he felt from Matt. ‘How could he have lied to Foggy for so long? And about something so important, and… dangerous?’ His thoughts were constantly racing since he learned Matt’s secret but as soon as he saw you, they silenced. For the past week, all Foggy could do was doubt everything.

He softly closes the door behind him, making his way over to you. He puts his hand on your arm, slightly shaking you in an attempt to wake you up. “Y/N?” He whispered, receiving no response in return. “Y/N… come on, wake up.” He saw you starting to stir in your sleep, still not waking up fully. So, he tried again. “Y/N,” he said with a direct voice, continuing to shake your arm. He saw you start to flutter your eyes open, you furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Morning, sunshine.” He said with a smile forming on his face as he saw you open your eyes. You lift your head up, looking around in confusion, not remembering falling asleep. You blink your eyes a few times, wiping the little trail of drool leaving the corner of your lips. Your eyes land on Foggy, who's standing at the corner of your desk with a small smile on his face. Despite the smile on his face, Foggy looked a little tired, like you, and a lot sad.

“Hey…” You spoke in a slightly groggy voice having just woken up. “What time is it?” Foggy checks his watch as you sit straight up in your chair. “It’s just past midnight. Why didn’t you go home if you were tired?” He still stands in front of you, concern and worry clearly written on his face.

You cleared your throat, able to talk with less of a rasp now. “I stayed late… later than I thought, I guess. I was just doing some research on the Castle case. I wanted to try and help you out.” Your words trail off as you get done explaining yourself. 

His features soften, glad to have someone like you in his life; he’s more glad to have you in his life. “You didn’t have to do that.” He talks barely above a whisper, whether because you just woke up, or because he's unsure of his words, you aren’t sure. 

“It was no problem, really.” You say with a smile starting to dance on your lips dismissively. You stand up, starting to walk the short distance to the mini kitchen your office had. “I know it’s a little late, but do you want some coffee? I have more things I need to look through, so…” He starts to readjust his shoulder bag awkwardly while you explain yourself. 

“Oh, no.” He begins. “I just came here to get a few of my things.” His voice gets quiet at the end of his sentence. 

Your heart hurts a little at his words. They weren’t rude in any manner of speaking, but they still stung and made your heart drop into your stomach. Your mouth opens and closes, starting to say something then deciding against it. Instead, you decide on a half-assed smile as you meet his eyes.

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you be.”

He gives a soft but curt nod and begins to walk towards his office. “Hey, Foggy?” you interrupt his movement.

He turns around with wide eyes, "Yeah?" You think of how you want to word what you're trying to say. You come up empty, except for the words, "Are you okay?" You asked him sincerely. It was obvious that something was different with him and Matt.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The words fall out of his mouth like he's trying to convince the both of you.

Without missing a beat, you speak up. "No, you aren't, Foggy. I know you. I've known you for years. So, please don't lie to me. You don't have to spill your guts to me, just tell me if something is bothering you."

You talk with a sense of desperation, hoping your words get through to him. You watch his gaze soften, not that it was a hard look to begin with. More like the toughness he was presenting left, leaving just Foggy.

Wordlessly, you walk closer to Foggy, slowly bringing your hands up to his chest. You grab at the strap of his shoulder bag, dragging it down his arm. You hear the leather fall to the floor with a soft thump.

Ditching the idea of coffee, files, or personal items, you reach down clasping his hand in yours. He knew from the moment you walked over to him what you were doing. You were going to the roof.

Foggy loved that about you - he came to terms a while ago that he was, in fact, hopelessly in love with you - you knew what he needed even if he himself didn't know.

Hand in hand, you open the office door, closing it behind you, and go down the hallway and up the stairs to the door that says 'roof access.'

This wasn't new to either of you. The pair always went onto the roof when something was wrong, or when the world felt like it was caving in on you. So you did what you always do.

You two walked out, hearing a loud metal clang of the door behind you. You found a spot and Foggy, ever the gentleman, takes off his jacket to lay down on the ground for you.

You lay next to Foggy, his thick jacket protecting you from feeling the rough asphalt below you. Arms crossed over your stomach, you silently stare up at the New York stars, tracing invisible constellations in your mind.

A few minutes of comfortable silence pass between you two as you enjoy the peace of mind this environment brings you. The starlight on your faces, the sounds of the city surrounding you, the tiny rocks faintly digging into your back, not as bad as it could be thanks to Foggy's suit jacket under you.

"It's Matt," Foggy breaks the silence, barely speaking loud enough for you to hear him. You turn your head a little, looking over at him from the corner of your eyes. You see he’s still looking straight up at the sky, not ready to look at you. “I can’t get into it, but…” He shrugs, struggling to find the words. “I just- I know that things aren’t going to be the same.” He’s practically whispering now, like he’s worried you’ll run away if he speaks too loud.

You turn your head more to look at him fully with your ear now on the ground. There aren’t any words exchanged for a beat. “Well, whenever you can talk about it, you know where I’ll be.” He moves his head, now facing you. He nods gently, glad the two of you have an unspoken agreement about the roof and its sacredness. 

He stares at you, looking into your eyes. Foggy looks at you with such intensity, you’d think he was trying to figure out all of your secrets. But this is normal. He always looks at you like this. Like every moment was a gift from God that he treasured. 

Not that you knew that’s why he looked at you that intensely.

No, you two were just good friends. You had been best friends with Foggy since he and Matt started at Landman and Zach. You get along with Matt just fine but you’ve always been closer to Foggy. 

As you return the stare in his eyes, you see his eyes move. From your eyes to your lips, to your nose and hair. There’s a foreign tension in the air. Usually, the air between you two is light and carefree, but now it’s heavy. It sits like a blanket over you. The silence is thick and almost tangible until Foggy breaks the silence.

“I love you.” He speaks, the first time anyone has spoken in a while. A hint of sincerity drips from his words, going unnoticed by you.

“I love you too,” you respond, smiling. This wasn’t the first time you two had said this. You didn’t say it all the time, but often enough. You both loved each other. He knows everything about you and you know everything about him. 

He immediately starts shaking his head. He leans up, turning around to continue looking at you. He sits with his palms against the gravel, fingers splayed apart, neck turned almost painfully back at you. You follow his actions, sitting up and still looking at him with furrowed brows. 

“No, I love you. I think about you all the time. I think about how your eyes glow when you hear your favorite song. I think about how you remember some random person's birthday but don’t remember to drink water. I think about the way you hunch over the table when we play a board game. I love you. I love everything about you.”

Your mouth hangs barely open in shock. Your mind blanks for a second, a minute, or maybe an hour. You aren't entirely sure. His voice brings you out of whatever trance you're in. "And I just ruined our friendship because you don't feel the same." He's barely able to finish the sentence before you start talking.

"No, no, no, no, no," you rush out. "It's not that, Foggy. I just... it took me by surprise." You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. "I think about you too." You begin speaking after a moment of thick silence. "I think about how you run your hands through your hair when you're nervous, how you belt out sea shanties when you think you're alone, how you have different dorky ringtones for just about everyone... I love you too, Foggy. " Your cheeks now tinted with a slightly rosy tint, you look at him, really look at him, and smile.

“I do not!- how did you know about the sea shanties?” His tone begins as defensive but then shifts to curious. A smile grows on your face, taking up half of it from how big you’re smiling. You begin to laugh, and he joins in but still skeptical about how you knew what he thought was a secret only he knew.

“Let’s just say a drunk Matt is very willing to talk about you.” You say with a shit-eating grin now on your face. The two of you sit in that moment, Foggy thinking about what other secrets Matt may have told you, and you smiling nervously, waiting for him to acknowledge your reciprocated feelings.

He must sense your growing nerves, as he ignores the thoughts of all the embarrassing things he’s done in front of Matt and focuses back on you. You, with the shining eyes and bright smile.

“Anyways,” he begins, shaking his head, “would you… would you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date… with me? I know this new Thai place that opened up on 42nd and 9th. If not, that’s-”

You continue to smile, putting your hand over his, making him stop his rambling. “Foggy, I’d love to. How’s Saturday? Say, 6 o’clock?”

He starts nodding his head, smiling even brighter than you are.

“That’s great. I’ll pick you up then.”

“Great, it’s a date.”

You two look at each other, a sense of what can only be described as longing in both pairs of eyes. Longing for more but knowing you have to wait, at least just a little while.

‘Thank whatever God is up there,’ Foggy thinks. ‘Thank God this is real.’