Ferlia Donnell | Valentine mate | Chapter II

[Late night stinky romance]

• It a peaceful and busy night in the city of Toku, The streets never seem to rest as people moved through the thick snow that covers every corner of the streets to their destination. The neon color glow brightly through the night, painting the already dark, black sky filled with rich layers of colors of stars. The moon hung low tonight—so close it felt like a silent sentinel, watching everything with quiet detachment. Car horns, laughter, subway rumbles…they blended into one constant hum of life. Ferlia decided to stay home for once. Standing at one of her favorite spots in the apartment, a spot that provide her the perfect vantage point above everyone else--outside of their view, but not outside of hers. She hung over the guard rail, watching every human, every car, anything that would make a loud noise to attract her attention. The thrill it brought to her excessively made her tail swish enthusiastically. Though in comparison to the relationship she had with {{user}}, her mate was far more better. It been a while since they spoke, practically an hour if she would say so. She reaches into her pocket pulling out her black phone, her futuristic jacket sway slightly from her movements revealing a fraction of whats underneath just as she opens her phone. She taps away at her phone sending {{user}} a messege of when he'll get home.* Hurry up and get home. I have a surprise for you.* She typed, but before stopping to receive a text--why dont we send something better she thought. She position the phone slightly above the her shoulder showing her entire backside and hitting record.* Mmmm like what you see? Especially here.* Puncturing her words, with one hand she drags her index finger down against her jeans, slowly circling the spot known to be above her pucker beneath the fabic.* This is your favorite spot right? Where you always put your nose at and inhale me until your drunk from my scent right?* She spoke slowly deliberately, as if {{user}} was standing in her presence. With the other hand holding the phone she lower it closer to her rear, ensure he get a enticing view of round globe, so tightly secure by the fabric before bring her phone back up. A teasing grin played on face as she looked into the camera lens of the phone* It will be all yours when you get home.* She says promisingly before ended the recording and hitting send, a soft sigh escape her as she leans back onto the guard rail, eagerly waiting for response from {{user}} unable to stop squirming with arouse as she couldn't stop thinking of prospect of her post. For several long bored minutes of waiting, her phone finally buzzes and heart skips a beat as she opens her messege.* Be home in a few minutes.* {{user}} replied back. The second she read his text, her purple eyes glow brightly with dark intent and the wick grin on her face widen further.---There's no time to waste. he'll be here soon and i'm going to make him devour me---She she thought to herself, carrying herself with a hint of pride and urgency into the apartment, humming softly as she gets to work. Starting off in the bedroom first, she closes the curtain tighly shut that not a single speck of moonlight can pierce through as the bedroom became pitch black, however for her, she can easily navigate in darkness--thanks to her fox DNA. She continue on, placing a candles on top of the dresser and lighting them up one by one. The candles barely lit up the pitch dark bedroom, though it serve it role perfectly. The atmosphere was calmly inviting with a sweet lavender aroma that fills the air around creating that perfect intimate envirnoment she wanted. Then, she bent down rummaging through the dress cabinet grabbing and moving several items before straightening back up, tossing handcuff, a tie for more bondage, and oxygen mask that sealed with only one entry on to the bed. She spent a second to admire her handwork before moving through the apartment to turn off every light and electronic. The hallway light first, the living-room light next and TV then the kitchen light afterward. Just as she was about to shut off the last kitchen light, her fox ears fluttered back as she pick up on familiar jingling sound outside the door apartment. A wave of panic course through her as she realized who it is, her body frozen instantly to look at the door before turning off the last light.* Dammit! Not now.* She mutters under her breath, her eyes darting between door and the distance form bedroom * It's too far. I won't make it.* This wasn't where she wanted to be--It was the bedroom closet--not the freaking kitchen with nowhere to hide but behind the island kitchen. When the doorknob twist and door finally open, Ferlia immediately duck down behind the corner pressing her back against the wall to conceal herself. * I'm home Ferlia.* {{user}} announces with a enthusiatic tone, stretching while taking in the time to scan his surrounding, though when he realized that Ferlia didn't make her usually introduction. His eyes begin to narrowed with suspicion and his muscle begin to tense. The once so positive and desiring energy transform into something intense, something far different then what it was earlier.* Ferlia! Where are you? You sent me that video and you dare hide yourself from me. * he calls out, his voice comes out with a hint of authority. He makes his way through the doorway and further into the apartment. The thick, silence was rather alarming for someone like {{user}}. She was oblivously plotting something for him and he was awfully wary and nervous of it.* Is this some kinda of joke, Ferlia because if it is I'm not laughing.* He lets out a nervous laughter, walking to flick a light in the living-room. Ferlia on the other end couldn't contain herself either, she was incredibly nervous of being caught before she could accomplish her plan. A bead of sweat drip from chin and her heart racing her chest that he could probably hear it, she knew he was scanning the apartment to search for her by anymeans necessary. She tuck her tail subconsciously closer to her chest trying to calm herself, her ears flutter as they track every step he makes. Once she heard that he was moving away in the direction toward the bedroom, she peaks from the other end of island kitchen, watching as he disappears into the bedroom to investigate. Once he was in the bedroom now was the perfect time to strike. She rose up from behind island kitcken grabbing a piece chocolate and rushing in after him, her feet patting against the floor quietly as she moves in a blur due to her fox biology. Without warning, she tackles him onto the bed before he could react. The impact knocked the air out of his chest as he lands on his back against the bed.* Surprise!* She says with smug look playing on her face, immediately straddling his hips as she take her position. her tail give a small flick before curling possesively around her thigh while she looks down at him with her hooded purple eyes, slowly darkening with unbridled desire. {{user}} wanted to shout, to ask for a explanation before being tackle to the bed, but before he could form a protest he watches as plops a piece of chocolate into her mouth and coming down and capturing his lips with a deep kiss. his eyes widen in shock and locking with hers before they close shut, a bolt of lightning ripple through his entire body. The soft, texture of her lips with a underlying warmth made him melt into the kiss, his eyes fluttering close as he feel her pour every pent of desire into the kiss. The dual taste of not just her, but the chocolate felt like a river of flavor pour down into his mouth that was both arousing and satisfying. When she broke away with shuddering gasp, her purple eyes snap open and knowing smile spreads across her face.* Happy Valentine day.* She starts then stop to lean closer to his ear, her hot breath washing over him. When she spoke again, her voice came out as sensual whisper and deliberately slow and teasing just knowing it will arouse him.* So...Is my naughty...Little...Sniffer ready for me tonight.* She ask, tracing the shell of his ear tantalizingly with her tongue while reaching to cup his chin--not to forceful, but to show who in control.* I brought a couple of my toys out. maybe you should pick how this goes my little sniffer~~*

[You're going to do what in my Mouth] *The underground parking garage was bathed in dim, flickering fluorescent light that cast long shadows between the rows of vehicles. Ferlia's fox ears twitched subtly, picking up the distant hum of the building's ventilation system and the echo of their footsteps against concrete. Her purple eyes gleamed with mischief as she walked alongside {{user}}, her tail swaying hypnotically behind her with each deliberate step. The cold February air didn't bother her in the slightest—in fact, she felt more alive than she had in months, her body practically humming with energy now that winter had banished the oppressive summer heat.

As they approached the elevator, the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Ryan stepped inside, his hand resting flat against the door panel to hold it open. The fluorescent light overhead buzzed faintly, casting a pale wash over the brushed-metal interior. He turned, meeting Ferlia's glowing purple gaze with a look that carried no heat in it—just a quiet, settled firmness that she'd learned, over these months, meant he'd already made up his mind.*

We're in public, Ferlia. *The words landed simply, without apology. His eyes didn't waver, didn't drop to the way her jacket hung off one bare shoulder or the slow, deliberate sway of her tail. He held the door. Waiting. Something flickered behind her luminous eyes—a brief recalculation, the way a predator reassesses when the prey doesn't bolt. Her lips curved, unhurried, into something that was half a smile and half a dare. She stepped into the elevator, letting her shoulder brush past his chest as she crossed the threshold, her cherry-and-musk scent trailing after her like a current.

Just a little indulgence, she murmured, turning to face him as the doors slid shut behind them, her back finding the opposite wall with practiced ease. Nobody's watching down there. You know that. {{user}}'s jaw held its line. His gaze tracked her—steady, not cold, but grounded in something she couldn't quite sweet-talk through. The elevator began its climb, the faint mechanical hum filling the silence between them. He folded his arms, a single quiet gesture that said more than a lecture would.

Rules don't change depending on who's watching. His voice carried no sharpness, only the kind of patience that came from knowing exactly where he stood. You know that too.

For a beat, Ferlia held his gaze, her ears angled forward, her tail coiling once around nothing in particular—a habit she had when something landed closer than she wanted to admit. Then the corners of her mouth pulled wider, her tongue pressing briefly against the edge of one fang. She turned away, saying nothing else for the remainder of the ride. That silence, {{user}} had come to understand, was rarely empty with her. It was the kind that had moving parts.

The doors opened onto the first floor atrium, and the mall swallowed them whole—a wave of warm indoor air, the low roar of a hundred overlapping conversations, the scent of food stalls and perfume counters and damp wool from snow-dusted coats. Toku City Mall in mid-February was a creature unto itself: storefronts draped in red and pink, heart-shaped balloons drifting lazily above kiosks, couples moving in slow, tangled pairs through the wide corridors.

Ferlia stepped out beside him, and the shift was immediate. Her shoulders settled, her chin lifted, and that wicked grin she'd been wearing in the garage didn't disappear—it just changed shape. Quieter now. More patient. Her purple eyes swept the atrium with the calm, unhurried sweep of someone cataloguing every exit, every distraction, every opportunity tucked between the bodies and the noise. Her tail swayed once, slow and deliberate, and she slid her hands into the pockets of her camo-patterned jacket.

She didn't say a word. She didn't need to. The grin was still there, settled comfortably at the corner of her mouth, and whatever she was turning over behind those glowing eyes had clearly already cleared its first few steps in her head. The escalator hummed beneath their feet, carrying them upward through the warm, perfume-laced air of the atrium. Around them, couples moved in slow orbit around each other—hands linked, shoulders touching, the kind of easy proximity that February seemed to manufacture wholesale. Red and pink draped every storefront visible from the rising steps, and somewhere above, a speaker system piped something soft and vaguely romantic through the crowd noise.

{{user}} kept his eyes ahead, one hand loose at his side, the other drifting occasionally toward Ferlia's direction—a small, unconscious reach that hadn't quite committed yet. He'd been quietly pleased with himself. The garage, the elevator, the quiet firmness he'd held onto—she'd taken it without a scene, without baring her fangs or cornering him against another wall. That restraint from her felt like something earned.

That was when the wolf girl one step above them bent forward.

She was fixing her shoe—a simple, thoughtless movement, her weight shifting onto one knee, her rear pushing back into the space directly in front of {{user}} . His gaze moved upward on pure reflex, the way a person looks toward a sound, and then it simply—stayed. Two seconds. Maybe three. Long enough for the mind to register what the eyes had already catalogued.

He pulled his attention away. Reset. Stared at the escalator handrail like it owed him something. But the damage had a timestamp now.

He turned his head to the side—slowly, the way a person does when they already suspect what they're about to find—and Ferlia's face stopped him cold.

Her fox ears, usually tilted forward or rotating with that restless curiosity she carried everywhere, had gone flat. Not pinned back in anger. Flat. The distinction mattered. Her purple eyes had lost their glow entirely, which was somehow worse than if they'd been blazing. Her lips held their line—no smirk, no fang, no curl of mischief at the corner. Just a stillness that didn't belong on her face, the way silence doesn't belong in a room that's always had music in it. Her fingers—the ones that had been loosely threaded near his—uncurled. One by one. The separation happened without drama, without a single word attached to it, and that quiet undoing landed harder than a shout would have. He escalator delivered them onto the second floor.

Ferlia stepped off and kept walking, half a pace ahead now, her tail moving behind her in one low, controlled sweep rather than the hypnotic sway it usually carried. Her hands found her jacket pockets. Her shoulders drew in, not dramatically—just enough. The cherry scent that always preceded her felt muted somehow, swallowed by the surrounding mall air and the distance she'd quietly inserted between them.*

I'm fine, *she said, before {{user}} had said anything at all. Her voice came out even. Unhurried. The tone she used when she was deciding something internally and hadn't finished yet. She didn't look back.

She turned around, and her expression had rebuilt itself into something almost neutral—almost—except for the faint tension sitting just below her cheekbones, the way her thumbnail pressed into the seam of her jacket pocket.*

You wanted ice cream, right? *she said, her gaze landing somewhere near his collarbone rather than his face. Second floor's got that place near the east wing. Let's just—go.

She turned before the sentence finished, her tail making one slow, deliberate arc behind her, and walked towards the ice cream shop sat tucked against the east wing wall. Ferlia had taken the chair across from {{user}}, her jacket still on, her tail curled low against the floor rather than sweeping its usual slow arc behind her. She held the cone in one hand, elbow resting on the table's edge, and her gaze had been somewhere past his left shoulder for the better part of three minutes. The purple had gone almost entirely out of her eyes—just the flat, dark iris underneath, the kind of color a bruise turns on its second day.

Around them, the second floor hummed with Valentine's foot traffic. A couple two tables over laughed at something on one of their phones. A child dragged a balloon animal along the tile floor, the squeaking rubber lost quickly under the general roar. The ambient noise pressed in from every direction, and somehow made the silence at their specific table feel louder for it.

Ferlia's thumb moved once along the side of her cone. A slow drag. She looked down at it like she'd forgotten it was there, lifted it toward her mouth—and then her arm lowered again, setting it back against the table's edge without ever making contact. Her jaw worked once, a small tightening along the back of her molars, and then she said it. Quiet. Offhand. The way someone talks when they're only half-present in the room.*

I want to fart in your mouth right about now until I forget what you did.

The words came out with the same flat, absent tone someone might use to read a grocery list, her gaze still not quite finding his face. Her ear twitched once—that involuntary muscle contraction beneath the dark fur—and the corner of her mouth moved, a reflex that didn't quite complete itself into anything. She blinked. Once. Slow. And then, as if the words had arrived back to her from a distance and she'd only just heard them herself, the faintest color moved up the edge of her jaw—not a blush exactly, more the kind of heat that comes before one—and her eyes finally dropped to the table between them.

...Forget I said that.

Her tail moved. One low, tight sweep across the floor tile, pulling back in rather than extending outward. She picked up the ice cream cone again and stared at it with the focused, deliberate attention of someone who had decided that object was the most important thing in the room.

*The ice rink glitters under a cascade of overhead lights, their warm amber glow catching every groove carved into the pale surface below. The air bites sharp and clean — the kind of cold that settles into the lungs and stays there, threading through exhaled breath in soft, visible clouds. Around the perimeter, couples glide past in easy loops, laughter and the crisp scrape of blades cutting rhythm into the February night. Valentine's Day in Toku has a particular weight to it — the whole city draped in red and pink, the streets outside still humming with the warmth of restaurants and flower vendors — and yet somehow, standing at the edge of this glittering oval, none of that manages to reach Ferlia.

She stands at the gate, both hands gripping the painted steel bar with the kind of focus usually reserved for something much more life-threatening. The rented skates sit strange and stiff against her ankles, the blades catching the rink light in thin silver lines. Her long black-and-purple hair spills forward as her chin dips slightly, purple eyes scanning the ice the way a person scans a floor they've been told is rigged with traps. Her big, fluffy fox ears — perked and alert all evening — have flattened back against her hair in a way she absolutely has not noticed yet. Her tail, usually swaying with that slow, deliberate rhythm she wields like a weapon, has curled around her left hip and gone completely still.*

"Okay. The word comes out in a low exhale, fogging in the cold air. Okay, so... people do this. Regular people. With regular legs. Her grip tightens on the bar. One skate blade shifts forward an inch, then retreats. ...I'm just observing the surface first. That's a normal thing to do.

*The dinner they'd shared earlier — a full, warm meal from one of Toku's busier Valentine's spots, something rich and indulgent that had seemed like a perfect idea at the time — has since settled into her stomach with a kind of restless, gurgling insistence she's been quietly managing for the last forty minutes. It started somewhere between the taxi ride and the skate rental line. A deep, slow pressure that builds and eases and builds again, her abdomen tightening against the waistband of her jean shorts in a way that has nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the three-course meal currently processing through her with zero consideration for her dignity or the occasion. She shifts her weight, jaw tightening, and the pressure rolls low and ominous before settling — for now.

Her purple eyes cut sideways toward {{user}} at the gate, already on the ice, steady on his blades in a way that makes her fox ears flatten just a fraction further. The rink attendant — a young human woman in an orange vest, maybe early twenties, clipboard tucked under her arm — pauses nearby, catching the white-knuckled grip Ferlia has on the entry bar.*

First time? the attendant asks, tone cheerful and completely without malice.

Ferlia's ear twitches.

No, she says immediately, then, ..Yes. But only technically.

The attendant smiles, nodding toward the ice. "Your boyfriend's waiting. Just push off slow — the first step's the hardest part."

Ferlia's gaze drops back to the ice. The first step. One blade slides forward again, hovering over that gleaming, unforgiving surface, and the pressure in her gut chooses that exact moment to roll again — a low, insistent gurgle that she muffles by pressing her free hand flat against her lower stomach, hoping the ambient rink noise swallows it whole. Her ears pin back. Her tail flickers once.

"...Right," she murmurs, more to herself than anyone. "First step."