Chapter: One

Disclaimer: Of course he's only yours Marvel, but can I borrow him for Valentines, pleaseee?

A.N.: Ok let me admit something first, It was just a plot bunny and I wanted it to be a goddarned one shot but somehow it turned into a long arse series itself but don't worry guys, I'm going to finish it before Valentine's Day because that's what it's about ;-}

Ok now about the story, it's my first try at 'No-Action-Only-Romance' stuff but yes, there's going to be a plot, there's going to be fluff and there's going to be smut (alotta smut ;-)

So guys, fasten your seat belts and get ready for one week long journey with a beautiful red rose in your hands becauseee it's Valentine's week peeps ;-}

No more yapping, just enjoy...

Chapter: One

Creed hated this day.

Too damn much and from the bottom of his heart.

It wasn't like the rest of year was full of greeny green spring or fucking rainbows in his eyes, or not because some cold hearted bitch'd broken his heart on it. Well the latter one was 101% impossible in his case because none of them actually survived him after he was done with'em in the first meet so breaking his heart in the future could never be on his list. But that's not the point today. The point is...

Victor Sabertooth Creed fucking hated Valentine's Day.

And the reason is... He wouldn't get many kills on the damn date. Looks like every assholic kingpin or mob boss is busy in fucking their whores instead of their enemies on the fourteenth of fucking February. His claws'd been itching to tear someone up since morning and there wasn't one fucking call on his phone. And whenever he couldn't get his claws on anyone or anything, he turned to two other ways to suppress his bloodlust.

Frails and Alcohol.

But his fucking luck, there was no good 'alone' bitch on the roads today. All of them wrapped in crappy red or pink, walking down the streets with their pimple faced, moronic boyfriends, holding tons of chocolates and flowers in their hands. Gawd, what the hell happens to the world on this damn particular day?

So now, alcohol was his last life saver for the rest of the day. He was sitting on the counter of one of his regulars in Miami, the warmest city of USA in the freaking month. The owner, Sam was a generous human who allowed mutants in until they made a mess out of his bar in a damn fight against other 'normal' customers.

Everything was usual. His 'whiskey on the rocks' was in his hand and his eyes were fixed at the screen of his IPhone 7. fingers scrolling up and down, checking the payment of his last hit. Drunk humans and some very, very drunk mutant smells hitting his nose from all four corners of the bar but like always, he did not give a shit.

But suddenly, a totally new scent tingled his nostrils. Sweet, fresh, wet orchids but wrapped in a totally different and sharp stench. That's how it felt as he inhaled it in deep down to the lungs. What was wrong with it? The interesting smell made him forget his money for a minute and was ready to pull all of his attention now.

His ears twitched to the sound of entering feet. A small, meek figure walked in and slowly advanced right in his direction, keeping her head down. he had to lift his eyes up and gave the new entrance a look. Human, brunette, 5'3", slim, medium boobs, barely Eighteen but still sexy. Her scent was becoming clearer and clearer with each step. Besides her high nervousness, her body reeked of something else too.

Sick.

Very sick.

She stopped just two feet away from him and turned to Sam without even looking at him. She showed him the card.

"One Scotch on the rocks." Creed cooked a brow at the little kitten's big demand.

"It's fake." Sam simply stated and threw the card back at her. His experienced eyes could easily read her age. He handled plenty of them everyday.

She caught it in the air. "No it's not. I am REALLY 23." she tried to sound confident with that honey dipped voice.

"Sorry babe, but ya sure as hell don't look like a 23 to me."

"And why is that? Because I'm short and less curvy?" Creed smirked at her witty reply and downed his glass.

"Listen, you-"

"Hey Sammy," Creed interrupted their argument. The girl saw the intimidating frame from the corner of her eye. "I can smell her, let her have it." And Wallah, there it goes! Creed's 'first and last' good deed of the century to this sassy, little kitten.

The girl flinched at the choice of words of this dangerous looking stranger. He can smell her?

"Here's your scotch." Sam sighed and handed it to her.

"Thanks." she hastily took the glass and passed an attituded smile to both of men before choosing a small, empty table in the furtherest corner to avoid all the drunk and hungry eyes. Creed watched that cute little ass walk away and instantly decided the girl was too interesting to let go without fucking her brains out.

Sabertooth had found his prey for tonight.

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I know it's a short shot but I need to know how I'm going with this one so please let me know...