#I know not everyone or not all one says this about them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nerdycheol · 3 days ago

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Love, On Air || Choi Seungcheol (valentine's special)

♡ Pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

♡ Genre: best friends to lovers, romance, fluff, slice of life

♡ Word Count: 7.8k

note: Happy Valentine’s Day! 💖 This is a special Valentine’s edition based on the poll results(so if you voted—congrats, you manifested this 👀). A massive shoutout to @facethesunflower for proofreading and making sure this didn’t turn into a total disaster. 😆 Hope you enjoy this fluffy, slightly dramatic, finally-they-confess moment.

Remember: if your best friend is acting suspiciously like Cherry… maybe it’s time to connect the dots. 👀💕

The clock hits 9 PM. You take a deep breath, adjusting the headphones on your ears as the familiar hum of the radio booth wraps around you. The room is small, dimly lit by the soft glow of the equipment and the neon sign flashing LIVE on the wall.

"Alright, we’re live in 3... 2... 1..."

Your hand hovers over the soundboard as you smile into the mic.

"Good evening, lovely listeners, and welcome back to The Heartbeat Hour, your go-to late-night show where we talk all things love, relationships, and everything in between," you say, your voice smooth and warm, like a cozy blanket on a cold night. "I’m your host, __ , and tonight is extra special because we’re in the heart of Valentine’s week. So, buckle up, folks—this week’s all about confessions, crushes, and, of course, giving you some advice to help you sort through your feelings."

You press the button for the first song request, the soft strains of a romantic ballad filling the room. As the music plays in the background, your eyes scan the requests that have been flooding in. The chat box is constantly ticking with messages—listeners asking for advice, sharing their love stories, or seeking songs that speak to their hearts. You feel that rush, the adrenaline of knowing you’re connected to so many people in real time.

"Now, I’ve got a message here from a listener who needs a little help," you say, pulling up the request. "This one’s from 'Cherry,' who writes in: ‘I’ve been crushing on someone for a while, but I’m not sure how to confess. Any advice?’"

You let out a small breath, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk as you think. This one’s a classic. You've seen it all before, but every confession still feels fresh. You smile softly into the mic.

"Ah, 'Cherry,' I get it. Confessing your feelings can be scary, but it’s also one of the most real things you can do. Here’s my advice: Keep it simple. No need for grand gestures, no elaborate speeches. Sometimes, the best way to let someone know how you feel is through a small, sincere gesture. Maybe write a note or give them a little gift that shows you’ve been thinking about them. And when you tell them how you feel, just be honest—there’s no such thing as a perfect confession. Just be you."

You pause, feeling the warmth of the words settle into your heart. The music swells in the background, adding to the ambiance of the moment.

"Remember, 'Cherry,' it’s not about getting it perfect—it’s about being brave enough to say it. And hey, the worst that can happen is they don’t feel the same way. But you know what? You’ve still won because you were true to yourself. So take a deep breath and go for it. You got this.”

You let the silence linger for a moment, Cherry’s words still hanging in the air. Then, with a small smile, you reached for the controls.

"Alright, Cherry, and everyone out there holding onto feelings they haven’t found the words for—this one’s for you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to say what’s in your heart, or at the very least, remind you that you’re not alone."

With a soft click, the studio filled with the delicate, wistful melody of "From the start" by Laufey—a song that is the ultimate friends to lovers song for all delusional daydreams.

Leaning back in your chair, you glanced out at the city lights reflecting against the glass. Somewhere, maybe Cherry was listening, hesitating over a letter they weren’t sure they’d ever send. Or maybe, just maybe, they had already begun writing.

After an hour of song requests, confessions, and quiet laughter shared through the airwaves, the LIVE sign dims. You take off your headphones, stretching your neck as the studio falls into silence. Another night, another show wrapped up.

Gathering your notes, you stack them neatly before grabbing your now-lukewarm latte from the desk. The faint chatter of coworkers drifts through the halls—other RJs wrapping up, producers discussing schedules.

"Great show tonight, ___," someone calls out in passing.

"Thanks! See you tomorrow!" you reply with a small smile, pulling on your coat.

Near the exit, your producer glances up. "Don’t forget—tomorrow’s segment is longer for the Valentine’s special. Get some rest!"

"Got it. Night, everyone!"

Pushing open the station doors, you step into the cool night air. The city hums in the distance, but here, it’s quiet—still. You take a slow sip of your latte, savoring the warmth against the crisp breeze.

And then, just a few steps away, you see him.

Leaning against his car, hands tucked into his coat pockets, Seungcheol watches you. The street lamp casts a soft glow over him, catching the faint curve of his lips.

You stop in front of Seungcheol, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

He tilts his head, acting like it’s the most casual thing in the world. "I was just passing through."

You narrow your eyes. "Passing through? Your workplace is nowhere near here."

"Okay, fine," he chuckles, pushing himself off the car. "I thought I’d pick you up. It’s been a while since we had dinner together."

"Ah, I see. You missed me." You smirk, taking another sip of your latte.

"Don’t flatter yourself, " he scoffs, but the amusement in his eyes gives him away.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head before walking around the car. "Alright, alright. Let’s go before you start crying about how I never have time for you."

He pulls open the passenger door for you with a teasing bow. "Your chariot awaits, my lady."

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you slip inside, and he shuts the door before making his way to the driver’s seat.

As he starts the engine, Seungcheol glances at you. "Nice show today."

You blink. "Oh? What’s up, Choiseung? You’re complimenting me?" You raise an eyebrow, grinning.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Forget it. Should’ve just let you believe no one listens to your rambling at night."

"Too late. I’m taking this to heart forever," you joke, leaning back in your seat.

A few minutes into the drive, Seungcheol reaches into his coat pocket and hands you a neatly folded envelope.

"Here."

You glance at it, then at him. "What’s this?"

"Just open it."

Curious, you unfold the letter inside. His familiar handwriting stretches across the page, carefully written, filled with warmth. It’s a simple note—thanking you for being in his life, for always listening, for just being you.

Your heart softens as you read.

"Ohh, Cheol... this is so sweet. Thank you so much, friend." You smile, touched by the gesture.

The moment the word leaves your lips, he freezes—just for a second.

Then, with a short nod, he looks away, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

"Yeah… friend." His voice is light, but something about it feels off.

You don’t notice. Or maybe, you just don’t understand.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat, turning into a street. "We should hurry before the restaurant gets packed."

You let it go, tucking the letter safely into your bag as the city lights blur past.

Dinner is simple—warm bowls of stew and easy conversation. You catch up on each other’s lives, laugh over childhood memories, and argue over who should pay the bill (which Seungcheol wins, as always). It’s comfortable, familiar—just like it’s always been.

But every now and then, Seungcheol watches you with something unreadable in his gaze. Something just beneath the surface.

Later, he pulls up in front of your place.

"Thanks for dinner, Choiseung." You grin, unbuckling your seatbelt.

"Yeah, yeah. You can pay next time."

"I’ll believe that when it happens." You laugh, stepping out of the car. "Goodnight!"

He waits until you disappear inside, only driving off once your lights flicker on.

And then he waits.

Seated in his car, he watches as your silhouette moves around the room. It’s only when your lights finally turn off that he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck before driving away into the quiet night.

The next day passes in a blur of work, coffee, and the usual routine. You go through meetings, reply to emails, and try not to fall asleep at your desk. It’s just another regular day—until night falls, and you’re back in the studio, headphones on, mic live, slipping into the comfort of your show.

"And that was 'Moonlight' to set the mood for tonight," you say, adjusting the volume on the console. "Now, let’s see what’s on your mind, listeners. Late-night confessions, random thoughts, love letters—I'm here for it all."

A familiar name pops up in the chat, and you smile.

"Ah, a message from ‘Cherry’ again," you muse, skimming through it.

"So, Cherry says: ‘I wrote them my feelings, but I feel like they didn't get the hint. Any advice?’”

You lean back, thoughtful.

"Confessions are tricky, aren’t they? But if words feel too heavy, why not try something else?"

You pause, then smile.

"Here’s an idea—make a playlist. Fill it with songs that subtly express your feelings, and share it with them. You can name it something meaningful, like ‘For You’ or ‘Songs That Remind Me of You.’ Maybe they’ll get the hint, maybe they won’t, but either way… music has a way of saying what we can’t."

A soft melody plays as you set up the next song, your voice lowering.

"Speaking of confessions… Cherry, this one’s for you."

___

After the show, you gather your things, stretching as the familiar hum of the studio fades into the quiet of the night. Stepping outside, the cool air brushes against your skin—and there he is, leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting.

"You again?" You arch a brow, teasing.

Seungcheol smirks. "What can I say? Madam needs her personal chauffeur." He pushes off the car, opening the door for you with a playful grin.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you slide in. "More like my chauffeur needs his daily dose of validation."

He chuckles, shutting the door before rounding the car. "Can you blame me? Gotta make sure my most important passenger gets home safe."

You shake your head, biting back a smile as he starts the engine. The familiar warmth of routine settles between you, comfortable and unspoken.

As you drive, soft music fills the space—a melody unfamiliar yet strangely intimate. You pause, listening. It’s not his usual sound. Gone are the heavy beats and sharp rhythms he prefers. Instead, the speakers hum with gentle tunes, lyrics drenched in longing.

You glance at him, amusement flickering in your gaze. "Since when did your taste in music change this much?"

His fingers flex over the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road. "Dunno. Just felt like switching things up."

You hum along absentmindedly, letting the melody wrap around you, comforting in ways you don’t fully understand.

Seungcheol exhales quietly, gripping the wheel a little tighter, sneaking a glance your way. Because this playlist isn’t just a mix of songs—it’s a confession. One he can only hope you’ll hear.

As Seungcheol pulls up in front of your place, he shifts the car into park but doesn’t make a move to unlock the doors just yet. Instead, he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, stealing a glance your way.

"__, since tomorrow’s the weekend... you wanna hang out?" His voice is casual, but there’s something just a little hesitant in the way he says it.

You turn to him, brows raised. "Sure. Where?"

Seungcheol clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away. "Nothing much… just the amusement park. Maybe a café after, y’know."

You blink before breaking into a small smile. "Huh, it’s been a while since we’ve gone there."

He nods, still avoiding your eyes. "Yeah. Thought it might be fun."

You tilt your head, watching him for a second before nudging his arm. "Well, if you’re paying, I’m definitely in."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes but grinning nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go overboard with the snacks."

You laugh, reaching for the door handle. "No promises. See you tomorrow, Choiseung."

As you step out, he waits, watching until your lights flicker on inside. Only then does he drive off, the soft hum of the playlist still playing in the background.

The next day, the weekend air carries a hint of excitement as you step outside, spotting Seungcheol waiting by his car. Dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, he looks effortlessly relaxed—except for the way he keeps checking his phone, as if trying to act nonchalant.

"Wow, you’re actually on time today," you tease, walking up to him.

He scoffs, sliding his phone into his pocket. "Please, I was born punctual."

You snort. "Sure, if 'punctual' means making me wait at least ten minutes every time."

Seungcheol rolls his eyes but opens the car door for you anyway, his usual playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Just get in, before I make you walk to the amusement park."

You laugh, sliding in as he rounds the car. Soon, you're both on the road, the soft hum of music playing in the background.

"So, what’s the plan, tour guide?" you ask, glancing at him.

He shrugs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Nothing fancy. Just rides, food, and you trying not to chicken out on the roller coasters."

You gasp dramatically. "Excuse you, I do not chicken out—"

"You literally backed out last time," he deadpans, making you groan in protest.

The banter continues, filling the car with laughter as the amusement park comes into view, the vibrant lights and distant screams of thrill-seekers setting the perfect scene for the day ahead.

As Seungcheol parks the car, you glance at the towering rides ahead, the excited chatter of parkgoers filling the air.

"Alright, where to first?" he asks, stretching as he steps out of the car.

You scan the park, lips pursed in thought before pointing towards the roller coasters with a challenging grin. "Since you’re so confident, let’s start with that."

His eyes widen for a split second before he huffs. "I wasn’t the one who backed out last time, remember?"

You laugh, linking your arm with his and pulling him along. "Exactly. Time to redeem myself."

The line moves faster than expected, and soon, you're seated, the bar locking in place. You grip the handles tightly, sneaking a glance at Seungcheol. He looks relaxed, but the way he exhales deeply before the ride starts doesn’t go unnoticed.

The moment the coaster shoots forward, your screams mix with laughter, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you grip the bar for dear life. When it finally slows, you glance at Seungcheol, only to see him looking at you instead of the ride’s descent.

"What?" you ask, breathless.

He shakes his head, a small, fond smile on his lips. "Nothing. Just glad you didn’t chicken out this time."

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully as you both step off the ride, your legs slightly wobbly from the rush.

The day continues with more rides, playful bets on who can win the most arcade games (he cheats, you swear), and an unnecessary but hilarious attempt at a claw machine.

"Face it, I'm just naturally gifted," he boasts, tossing you a small stuffed bear.

"Naturally full of it, maybe," you grumble, but take the bear anyway, hugging it to your chest.

Finally, as the night settles, you both find yourselves on the Ferris wheel, the gentle hum of the ride filling the comfortable silence. The city sprawls below, glowing under the streetlights, and in the distance, fireworks begin to bloom in the sky.

"Didn’t think today would be this fun," you admit, leaning back against the seat, the cool glass behind you a contrast to the warmth in your chest.

Seungcheol glances at you, something unreadable in his expression. He exhales softly, his fingers tapping against his knee.

"Yeah... I, uh—" He hesitates, licking his lips, his voice quieter now. "There's actually something I—"

But before he can finish, a particularly loud firework crackles in the sky, painting the cabin in flickering colors. You turn quickly, eyes lighting up as you take in the view.

"Oh, look at that one! It’s so pretty" you say, completely missing the way Seungcheol sighs, his half-spoken words swallowed by the moment.

He leans back, running a hand through his hair, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze lingering on you instead of the fireworks. "It is pretty."

Eventually, you both find yourselves at a cozy café just outside the park, the scent of coffee and pastries filling the air.

After placing your order, Seungcheol suddenly pushes back his chair. “Be right back,” he says, flashing a quick smile before heading toward the counter.

You don’t think much of it, scrolling through your phone until the waiter returns with your drinks. As they set your cup down, you notice the delicate heart design floating atop the foam.

You tilt your head, stirring it slightly with your spoon. “Oh? Is this some kind of Valentine’s special?” you ask, amused. “Did you get one too?”

Seungcheol, who’s just returned to his seat, glances at his own plain coffee and shrugs. “Yeah… no.”

You raise a brow. “Huh. Guess they just like me more.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink, but you don’t notice the way he hides his small, satisfied smile. Because the truth is, he had asked for that heart—just for you.

The next evening, the soft glow of the studio lights casts a warm hue as you settle into your seat, adjusting your headphones. Outside, the city hums with life, but a sudden downpour has turned the streets into shimmering reflections of neon signs.

"Looks like we’re in for an unexpected downpour tonight," you say, adjusting your headphones with a small chuckle. "So if you're heading home, grab an umbrella—or better yet, find someone who’ll share theirs with you—if not, maybe this is your chance for a classic movie moment. You know, the whole ‘one umbrella, two people’ thing."

With a quick tap, you queue up a slow, dreamy melody.

"Wherever you are tonight—rushing through the rain or just watching it fall—I hope this keeps you warm. Stay safe out there." As the song plays, you sit back, stretching your arms with a sigh.

As the show wraps up, you take off your headphones, letting out a small sigh as the last song fades into silence. The studio, once filled with the hum of voices and music, now feels still. Gathering your things, you push open the door, stepping into the quiet hallway.

Outside, the rain still falls in soft sheets, blurring the glow of streetlights. You pause near the entrance, rummaging through your bag. No umbrella. Right. You meant to bring one this morning, but in the rush, it completely slipped your mind.

You pause at the entrance, contemplating making a run for it, when a familiar voice calls out.

"Figured you’d forget yours."

You blink as Seungcheol steps forward, holding out an umbrella, his usual smirk in place. His hair is slightly damp, his coat dusted with droplets, like he had hurried here without much thought.

A small flutter, barely noticeable, stirs in your chest. You shake it off with a teasing smile. "What, no chauffeur duty today?"

He chuckles, tucking a hand into his pocket. "Uhh, not tonight. I have to stay late for that project."

You tilt your head, a little surprised. "So you came all the way here just to give me this?" You motion toward the umbrella in your hand.

"Yeah," he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Before you can say anything else, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, sighs, then looks back at you. "I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

You nod, watching as he jogs toward his car, the red taillights fading into the rain.

For a moment, you just stand there, gripping the umbrella a little tighter. You don’t know why, but the weight of it in your hands feels different.

Then, shaking off the thought, you open it and step into the rain, heading home.

As morning arrives, the first thing that comes to mind is Seungcheol. You blink at your phone, thumb hovering over his contact.

Texting him isn’t anything new—you’ve done it countless times before. But for some reason, tonight, it feels… different. Maybe it’s your coworker’s words still echoing in your head, or maybe it’s the way he’s been occupying your thoughts more than usual.

Before you can overthink it, you start typing.

You: Did you get home okay?

A second passes. Then another. You bite your lip, debating whether to add something else.

You: And did you even sleep well? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night working.

You press send before hesitation can creep in. Almost instantly, the dots appear.

Seungcheol: Wow, checking up on me? I must be special.

You roll your eyes, already imagining the smug grin on his face.

You: Forget I asked.

Seungcheol: Wait, wait— I did sleep. Kinda. Had a long day, but I’m home now.

You: Good. Don’t overwork yourself.

Your fingers hover over the screen for a beat before you add one last message.

This time, he takes a little longer to respond.

Seungcheol: You too.

You lock your phone, exhaling softly as you sink into your pillow.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re just overthinking. But the warmth unfurling in your chest suggests otherwise.

At work, the usual hum of chatter fills the office. You’re halfway through your emails when a coworker slides into the seat beside you, a teasing grin already in place.

"I saw you yesterday," they start, leaning in slightly. "With a guy. Was he your boyfriend?"

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard.

"What? No!" The denial is immediate, instinctive. Too quick. You clear your throat, forcing a casual shrug. "Just a friend."

Your coworker chuckles, clearly amused. "Mmm, sure. You should’ve seen your face just now."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Oh, please. It’s not like that."

They raise an eyebrow, smirking as they lean against your desk. "Right. Just a friend, huh?"

You roll your eyes, waving them off, but as they walk away, their words linger.

Just a friend.

You’ve said it a hundred times before. So why does it feel different now?

The soft glow of the studio lights wraps around you like a familiar embrace as you settle in for another night on air. The playlist hums in the background, filling the quiet spaces between your thoughts as you scroll through messages from listeners.

One catches your eye.

“I think I’ve fallen for my best friend. It wasn’t sudden—more like a slow, creeping realization. One day, I caught myself smiling at my phone just because they texted me. I don’t know if they feel the same, and I’m scared to lose what we have. What do I do?"

You hesitate for a moment, the words settling heavier than they should. There’s a flicker of something familiar in them, something that makes you sit up a little straighter.

You take a breath and lean toward the mic. “That’s… complicated,” you begin, your voice even, steady. “Falling for a best friend is tricky. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. One day, they’re just… them. The same person they’ve always been. And then suddenly, everything feels different.”

Your breath catches slightly. A part of you wants to laugh at the timing, but instead, you clear your throat and lean into the mic.

You exhale softly, fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your notes. "I think the scariest part isn’t even confessing—it’s the thought of what happens after. What if they don’t feel the same? What if things change? But… at the same time, isn’t it worth knowing? Isn’t it better than wondering ‘what if’ forever?"

The words come naturally, maybe a little too naturally, and you catch yourself mid-sentence, blinking at the realization. Your fingers tighten slightly around the papers in front of you.

You shake it off with a light laugh. "Anyway, I’m not a love expert. But if you’re listening… maybe ask yourself this—would you rather take the risk or live with the regret?"

As the segment transitions, you queue up the next song, the soft melody of Can't Help Falling in Love by Kina Grannis filling the airwaves. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling.

The idea of a team dinner had been floating around the office for weeks, but it wasn’t until today that your producer finally put his foot down.

“We’re going,” he declared, arms crossed as he leaned against your desk. “No more excuses, no more ‘let’s do it next week.’ Tonight, we eat.”

Your coworker snickered, spinning lazily in their chair. “You just don’t want to go home and cook.”

“Exactly,” he admitted shamelessly. “Besides, it’s been a while since we all hung out outside of work. You in?”

You hesitated for a beat, glancing at your screen before sighing. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do. “Yeah, I’m in.”

And that was that. A few hours later, you found yourself walking toward the restaurant with the rest of your team, the air buzzing with conversation. Your producer was still arguing about food, insisting that this place was “decent at best” while another team member defended it with an almost personal level of passion.

You laughed at their banter, falling into step behind them—until something made you slow down.

A familiar figure stood just outside the restaurant, hands tucked into his coat pockets. Even before he turned, you knew who it was.

Seungcheol.

Your brows lifted slightly in amusement. “Are you a stalker?” you teased as you approached. “You’re literally everywhere I go.”

He turned toward you, chuckling under his breath. “No, I’m here with someone. My cli—”

“Shall we go?”

The voice belonged to a woman who stepped up beside him, her posture poised, her tone polite. She looked… elegant. The kind of effortless elegance that didn’t even need to try.

Your gaze flickered between them, something unreadable tightening in your chest before you smoothed your expression. “Who…”

The woman met your eyes and smiled. “Oh, I’m Lee Hana. I’m working with Seungcheol on a project.”

You nodded, lips curving into something light, something easy, even as something else tugged inside you. “Right. Nice to meet you.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingered on you for a second longer than it should. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” you blinked, shifting slightly. “Our team is having dinner.” You motioned toward the restaurant behind you. “You know, bonding and all that.”

He nodded, but before he could say anything else, Hana touched his arm lightly. “Shall we?”

There was a pause—brief, barely there—before he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.” Then he glanced at you again. “Bye, then. Have fun.”

And then he was gone, walking away with her at his side.

You watched them leave, something unspoken pressing against your ribs. It’s not jealousy, you told yourself. Not really. But the feeling stayed anyway.

A voice broke through your thoughts. “Oh, isn’t he the umbrella guy?”

You turned to see your coworker standing beside you, glancing after Seungcheol with mild curiosity before their gaze shifted back to you. “Did he come here with a woman?”

You said nothing, but that seemed to be enough of an answer.

They hummed knowingly. “You really must be just friends.” And with that, they walked inside.

You stayed there a second longer, staring at the spot where Seungcheol had just been, before shaking yourself out of it and following them in.

The night air is crisp as you walk back home, the sounds of the city buzzing softly in the background. Your team dinner had ended a while ago, but instead of feeling full and satisfied, there’s a strange heaviness in your chest—a weight you don’t quite understand.

As you turn the corner to your apartment complex, you slow down, your steps faltering.

There, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, is Seungcheol.

Your brows knit together. “What are you doing here?”

At your voice, he straightens, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You didn’t look well back at the restaurant,” he says, his tone light but laced with something else—concern, maybe. “So, I thought I’d check on you.”

You blink at him. “You drove all the way here for that?”

He shrugs. “It’s not far.”

Liar. His office is nowhere near your place.

There’s a brief pause. The usual banter is on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, the words don’t come out as easily tonight. Maybe it’s because he actually showed up. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what to do with the way your heart stutters at the sight of him standing there, waiting for you.

You shift your weight. “Do you… want to come in for coffee?”

At that, he chuckles, shaking his head. “Coffee? At this time?” He tilts his head at you, amused. “You must really hate me if you don’t want me to sleep tonight.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Then I’ll give you plain water. Just come in.”

His lips twitch into a smirk before he pushes himself off the car. “If you insist.”

And just like that, he follows you inside.

The door clicks shut behind you as you step inside, flipping on the lights. The familiar warmth of your home settles around you, but with Seungcheol standing in your living room, it suddenly feels… different.

“You can sit,” you say, gesturing vaguely to the couch as you move toward the kitchen.

He hums in response, wandering over but not immediately sitting down. Instead, he looks around, eyes flickering to the small details of your space—the stack of books on the coffee table, the blanket draped lazily over the couch, the half-full cup on the counter from this morning.

“By the way,” you start, keeping your voice casual as you pour warm milk, “who was that woman earlier?”

Seungcheol hums in acknowledgment, but when he answers, it’s after a slight pause. “Just a client. I’m handling a project for her company.”

“Ah.” You nod, stirring the coffee a little too forcefully. “Looked like you guys were close.”

He lets out a small laugh. “Are you interrogating me right now?”

You scoff, bringing the mugs over to the table and handing him one. “No. Just making conversation.”

You drop onto the couch beside him, curling your legs under you. He’s been here so many times before, and yet tonight, the usual comfort feels a little different—like you’re hyper-aware of the way he leans back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the way he watches you over the rim of his mug.

“You seemed off earlier,” he says after a beat. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you lie, but even you don’t sound convinced.

Seungcheol doesn’t press, just tilts his head slightly, studying you like he’s figuring out a puzzle. “If you say so.”

After a while, he stretches, glancing at the time. “I should go.”

You nod, following him to the door. He lingers for a second, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Text me when you wake up, yeah?”

You frown. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Just ‘cause.”

You roll your eyes, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes your chest tighten. “Fine.”

He smirks. “Good.”

And then, with a small wave, he’s gone.

You stand there for a second, staring at the closed door, fingers curling tightly around your cup.

The theater is dim, the soft glow from the screen casting flickering lights across Seungcheol’s face. The film has barely begun, but the hum of quiet conversations and the rustling of popcorn bags fill the space around you.

You’re not sure who suggested this movie. Maybe he did. Maybe you did. Maybe it was just one of those things—where he casually texted, "Movie?" and you didn’t even think before replying, "Sure."

The movie plays, but your focus wavers. You’re aware of him. Of the way his shoulder is just barely brushing yours. The way his fingers drum lazily against his knee. The way he shifts slightly every now and then, getting comfortable.

And then, his hand moves to the popcorn bag between you.

Your fingers accidentally graze his. Just for a second.

You don’t think much of it—until it happens again.

The second time, neither of you pull away immediately. It’s not intentional, not deliberate. Just… a pause. A moment that lingers for a beat too long before he finally retracts his hand.

Your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression neutral.

A few more scenes pass. You’re getting lost in the film when suddenly—

A jump scare.

It’s sudden enough that your breath catches, and before you can stop yourself, your hand darts out, grasping the closest thing—his arm.

Seungcheol doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t say a word. Just glances down at your fingers curled around his sleeve.

You realize what you’ve done a second too late. Heat creeps up your neck as you start to pull away.

But then—

His arm shifts just slightly, just enough that your hand slides from his sleeve to his wrist, fingertips brushing against his skin.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

The moment stretches, unspoken, unacknowledged. Not quite intentional. But not exactly not intentional, either.

And suddenly, the movie is the least interesting thing in the room.

The movie ends, and the crowd slowly shuffles toward the exits. You stretch your arms as you step out of the dimly lit theater, the cool night air greeting you.

"That wasn’t as scary as I thought," you say, glancing at Seungcheol.

He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sure. That explains why you nearly ripped my sleeve off."

You roll your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "That was one time."

He smirks. "Uh-huh. And what about the other time? And the time after that?"

You narrow your eyes at him, but there’s no real bite behind it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"Okay, whatever. Where are we eating?" You change the subject swiftly, and Seungcheol hums, pretending to think.

"Ramen?" he suggests.

Your stomach growls at the mention of food, and you nod. "Sounds good."

It’s a short walk to the small ramen shop tucked away on a quieter street. The place is cozy, warm, and familiar—one of those late-night spots you’ve both ended up in more times than you can count. The moment you step inside, the comforting aroma of broth and spices fills the air.

Seungcheol orders for both of you, as he always does, rattling off your usual without even asking. The cashier doesn’t even blink, already used to it by now.

You shake your head with a small smile. "One day, I’m going to switch things up just to mess with you."

He leans against the counter, grinning. "No, you won’t."

He’s right, and you hate that he knows it.

The two of you settle into a booth, the conversation flowing easily between bites of food. Seungcheol steals a piece of your fish cake without asking. You retaliate by swiping a sip of his drink. It's effortless, familiar.

By the time you step back outside, the streets are quieter. The late hour drapes the city in a peaceful hush, the occasional headlights casting long shadows on the pavement.

Neither of you say much as you walk, but it isn’t an awkward silence. Just the kind that lingers when words aren’t needed.

At some point, Seungcheol slows his pace, falling into step beside you instead of slightly ahead.

The street lights flicker above, the air crisp but not too cold. You rub your hands together out of habit.

A beat passes before Seungcheol exhales through his nose and, without a word, reaches out.

His hand brushes yours, just barely.

You think it might be an accident until he does it again.

This time, he doesn’t move away.

And neither do you.

The apartment is quiet when you step inside, the familiar space wrapping around you like a well-worn blanket. You toe off your shoes, set your bag down, and exhale, as if the night still clings to your skin. The soft hum of the refrigerator is the only sound filling the air, but your mind is anything but quiet.

You wander into the kitchen on autopilot, reaching for a glass, but your fingers hesitate over the cabinet handle. The thought slips in, uninvited.

What if he already knows?

The question lingers, settling into the corners of your mind like an echo. You shake your head as if that alone could shove it away, but it doesn’t work.

Maybe it’s the way he laughed tonight—soft, genuine, like the sound itself belonged to you. Or the way he leaned in closer, just enough that his warmth almost touched you. Maybe it’s nothing at all, just the way he exists around you—familiar, steady, yet suddenly… different.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to chase the feeling away, but it’s stubborn. Because now that you’ve noticed it, you can’t unsee it. Every teasing remark, every lingering glance, every small, meaningless moment—it’s all been leading to this.

And the worst part?

You don’t even know when it started.

You sink onto the couch, pressing the cool glass against your palm, grounding yourself. You try to convince yourself it’s nothing. You’ve always been close. He’s always been there.

But tonight, when his hand brushed yours and he didn’t pull away… when he said goodnight like he meant something else…

Your heart had stuttered.

You bite your lip, staring at the ceiling, willing your heartbeat to settle.

...What if he already knows?

The studio is quiet except for the soft hum of the equipment. The city lights flicker through the window, casting faint shadows against the booth. You scroll through the messages, eyes landing on a familiar name.

Cherry.

“I tried everything you said—gave them a letter, took them out, spent so much time together. And honestly? I swear they like me too. But… nothing. What do I do?"

You let out a breath, tapping your fingers lightly against the desk.

"Okay, first of all—don’t give up. I know it’s frustrating when someone doesn’t read between the lines, but sometimes, people need things to be said plainly. No metaphors, no subtlety. Just… real words."

You lean back slightly, eyes flickering toward the dim window of the booth, where the city blurs in the distance.

"Because here’s the thing—what if they do feel the same way? What if they’re just as scared as you are? Wouldn’t you rather know than spend your days wondering?"

The words come easily, almost too easily, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re really just talking to Cherry anymore.

You exhale and push forward.

"So here’s my advice, Cherry. Tell them. No hints, no half-confessions. Just look them in the eyes and say, ‘I like you.’ And if they don’t feel the same? At least you’ll know. At least you won’t have to live with ‘what if.’"

Your hand hovers over the controls for a moment longer than necessary before finally pressing the next song cue.

The melody flows through the studio, soft and steady. And yet, your heart is thudding slightly faster than it should.

The night air is cool against your skin as you step out of the building, the faint hum of the city filling the quiet. Work is done for the day, your coworkers already heading their separate ways after a few lingering goodbyes.

You stretch your arms slightly, exhaling as you adjust the strap of your bag—only to freeze mid-motion.

He’s there.

Standing just outside the entrance, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket—except for one, which lingers behind his back, hiding something.

Your heart stirs, something instinctive. “Seungcheol?”

His lips twitch in a small, almost nervous smile. “Hey.”

“You’re waiting for me?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, stepping toward him.

“Yeah.” A soft exhale. “I had to.”

You tilt your head slightly. “Why?”

Seungcheol hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Then, with a slow exhale, he pulls his hand from behind his back—revealing a bouquet of flowers, delicate and vibrant under the streetlights.

Your breath catches.

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

“Seungcheol…” Your voice is softer now, unsure. The gesture feels too deliberate, too thoughtful. It makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

He watches you for a second before exhaling, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve said this sooner. A long time ago, actually.” His voice drops slightly. “I think—no, I know—I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Your breath catches.

He holds it out to you, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. “I know it’s kind of cheesy, but... I saw this and thought of you.”

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

“Seungcheol…” Your voice is softer now, unsure. The gesture feels too deliberate, too thoughtful. It makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

The world feels like it slows down.

His eyes flicker with something—uncertainty, vulnerability, an honesty so raw it makes your chest tighten.

“I tried not to,” he continues, voice steadier now. “I thought maybe it would pass, that maybe we were just friends and I was misreading things. But then you started showing up in my thoughts at the most random times. I’d hear a song and think of you. I’d pass a café and wonder if you’d like their coffee. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it… it was always you.”

Your fingers tighten around the flower.

“So I’m done pretending.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

You swallow, fingers tightening around the flower as your heart stumbles over itself. The weight of his words settles over you—not heavy, not suffocating, but something warm, something undeniable.

For a long moment, you don’t speak. You don’t know if you can.

Seungcheol watches you carefully, his usual confidence laced with something softer, something uncertain. You can tell he’s waiting, bracing himself for whatever comes next.

So you inhale slowly, steadying yourself.

“You—” Your voice falters slightly before you clear your throat. “You’ve liked me for a long time?”

He nods, lips curving into a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah.” A beat. “I thought you knew.”

Your breath catches.

Did you?

You think back—to the lingering glances, the easy laughter, the way he’s always been there, steady and constant. The way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. The way your heart has been shifting, your feelings unraveling into something you weren’t ready to name.

“I…” You pause, lips parting, your heart beating so fast it’s dizzying. And then you laugh, a little breathless, shaking your head. “God, I feel so stupid.”

Seungcheol blinks, caught off guard. “Huh?”

You meet his eyes, and this time, there’s no doubt, no hesitation.

“I like you too, you idiot.”

For a second, everything is still.

Then Seungcheol lets out a sharp breath—a laugh, almost disbelieving—and suddenly, that teasing smile you know so well is back, but there’s something else in his expression now. Something real. Something unshakable.

“Yeah?” His voice is quieter, laced with something warm.

You nod, lips pressing together. “Yeah.”

And then, he pulls you in—his hand resting at the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair.

His lips press against yours, gentle at first, then firmer, like he’s been holding this in for too long. His other hand stays over yours, the bouquet still between you, petals brushing against your skin.

The city buzzes in the background, but all you can hear is the quiet rush of your own heartbeat. And in that moment, with his warmth, his touch, his everything—

It just feels right.

You pull away just enough to look at him, breathless, your forehead still resting against his. His hands remain on your waist, warm and grounding, as if neither of you wants to let go just yet.

And honestly? You don’t think you ever want to.

A soft laugh escapes you, light and airy. “You know… a listener of mine also loves their best friend,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly. “They tried everything—subtle hints, letters, taking them out—but their best friend was too dense to get it.”

Seungcheol chuckles, his thumb brushing over your wrist. “Sounds familiar.”

“Right?” You sigh dramatically. “So, I told them to just confess. No hints, no half-confessions, just… real words.”

He hums, nodding thoughtfully. “Good advice.”

“Yeah,” you grin, looking up at him. “I wonder how it went for them.”

Seungcheol pauses for a second, then leans in just a little, his voice playful yet quiet. “I’d say pretty well.”

You blink. “Huh?”

His lips quirk up, and suddenly, the way he’s looking at you feels a little too knowing.

And then, before you can process it, he says it—just two words, but they hit you like a ton of bricks.

“I know.”

You stare. “What?”

He grins, tapping a finger against your forehead lightly. “Your listener. Cherry.”

Your brows furrow. The pieces are there, but your brain refuses to connect them. “What about them?”

He hesitates, as if savoring the moment, before finally confessing, “It’s me.”

Silence.

You tilt your head, processing his words. “...You’re Cherry?”

Seungcheol nods, clearly holding back a laugh at your expression.

For a second, you just stand there, staring at him.

Then, with a dramatic gasp, you lightly smack him with the bouquet in your hands.

“Ow—hey!” He feigns pain, stumbling back slightly, but the wide grin on his face betrays him.

“You idiot!” You hit him again, though there’s no real force behind it. “You made me give love advice for your own confession?”

He catches your wrist, still laughing. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can retaliate, he tugs you forward, pulling you into another hug.

This time, it feels different.

Familiar, warm, but with something new. Something neither of you have to question anymore.

You sigh against his shoulder, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you.”

He grins. “Believe it, Baby.”

626 notes · View notes

jungwnies · 1 day ago

Text

F1 GRID | taking away their food - tiktok trend

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (comment if you'd like to see other drivers or feel free to drop into my inbox!) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested) : taking away their meal while they are still eating to see their reaction...

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 3490

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : when i tell you i love these tiktok trend requests, i love them...! <3

ʚ・max verstappen

you and max were on vacation at a beautiful beachside resort. unlike max, who preferred to stay offline, you were chronically online and had seen the recent trend of taking away people’s food while they were eating. what better way to have some fun than to try it on your husband?

max had a relatively short temper, but he was always patient with you. that’s why you couldn’t wait to see his reaction when his food was suddenly taken away…especially in an expensive restaurant.

after placing your orders, you excuse yourself. “i’ll be right back, babe, just have to use the restroom.”

instead, you hurry over to your waiter, who isn’t too busy at the moment. slipping her a generous tip, you ask, “while he’s eating, can you take away his food?”

she laughs, immediately catching on. “i’ve seen the trend! i’d love to do it—especially to max.”

trying to contain your excitement, you make your way back to the table, casually setting up your phone to record. the food arrives, and you both dig in.

as you eat, you casually chat about the upcoming f1 season. “are you excited?” you ask between bites.

“yeah, but testing is gonna be interesting. new regulations could change a lot,” max replies, focused on his food.

then, right in the middle of a bite, the waiter swoops in and takes his plate away.

max freezes. you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“what the hell?” you say, feigning confusion.

max blinks before his expression shifts. “yeah, what the hell? i want to speak to their manager. what are they, fucking idiots?” his voice rises, his irritation clear.

that’s it—you can’t hold it in anymore. not wanting the staff to get in trouble, you call the waiter back, who quickly returns with his dish. “my apologies,” she says, trying to keep a straight face.

before max can get another word out, you burst into laughter. “it was just a prank, my love. an extremely funny one at that.”

max sighs, shaking his head. “you know i was hungry…”

you roll your eyes. “we had a snack before coming here. don’t lie.”

he huffs, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitching. “you’re lucky you’re my wife and not another driver.”

you grin. totally worth it.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

“are you excited to see the family again?” you ask lewis as you adjust your dress, glancing at him through the mirror.

lewis nods, holding out his tie. “always excited,” he says, smiling as you step closer to help him fix it.

you both make your way to the family dinner, where you're greeted warmly. everyone loves lewis so much that they always prepare a vegan-friendly meal just for him—without making a fuss about it.

at the gathering, you and lewis naturally drift apart. he’s with your father and uncles, deep in a discussion about sports, while you join the women in the kitchen, chatting and catching up.

your cousin pulls you aside, giggling. “have you seen that tiktok trend where you take their food mid-meal just to see their reaction?”

you smirk, already plotting. “oh, i have an idea.”

once everyone is seated and eating, conversation flows easily. then, mid-meal, you casually get up, walk over to lewis—who’s completely engrossed in a conversation with your uncle—and, without a word, take his plate away.

you turn on your heel and walk straight to the kitchen, leaving him staring after you, utterly speechless. the entire table falls silent. the women bite their lips, trying not to laugh, while the men exchange confused glances.

lewis clears his throat, placing his napkin down. “if you all will pardon me for just a second.”

he follows you into the kitchen, where he finds you at the sink, rinsing a plate. his brows furrow, but there’s amusement in his voice. “love… what are you doing?”

you don’t turn around just yet, keeping up the act. “what do you mean? i thought you were done.”

lewis tilts his head, his expression both concerned and affectionate. “darling, i’d barely even touched my food.”

you finally turn to face him, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “i know,” you admit, pulling his plate out of the microwave with a grin. “i just wanted to see your reaction.”

lewis exhales a deep sigh, crossing his arms. “and what exactly did you think was going to happen? that i’d sit there, starving, while you pranced around with my dinner?”

you shrug innocently. “honestly, i thought you’d be more dramatic. maybe throw a little fit, demand justice, give a speech about how a man’s meal should never be taken from him.”

lewis raises a brow, lips twitching with amusement. “oh, so you expected a whole performance?”

you nod. “at the very least, i thought you’d stand up on your chair and make a passionate plea for your food’s return.”

lewis chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

you hand him back his plate with a cheeky smile. “and yet, you married me.”

he takes it, setting it down on the counter before pulling you into his arms. “mm, don’t remind me. i think i should’ve put ‘no pranks’ in the vows.”

you gasp in mock offense. “excuse me? that would’ve been a dealbreaker.”

lewis laughs, resting his forehead against yours. “then i guess i really am stuck with you.”

you grin. “lucky you.”

he shakes his head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before picking up his plate. “lucky me, indeed. now, if you’ll excuse me, i’d like to actually eat my food before you come up with another ridiculous idea.”

you smirk, watching as he walks back to the table. “no promises.”

ʚ・george russell

george loves your home-cooked meals. after a long day of racing and testing, he always comes home with an empty stomach, ready to devour whatever you’ve made.

and lucky for him, despite spending most of your day rotting in bed on tiktok, you still managed to cook one of his favorite meals. so, when he walks through the door, you greet him with a warm smile, already setting the table.

“smells amazing,” he sighs, dropping a kiss to your forehead before heading off to freshen up.

once he’s cleaned up and comfortable, you both sit down and start eating. conversation flows easily as he tells you about his day—mostly car talk that you only half understand but love listening to anyway.

then, mid-meal, right when george is in the middle of a big bite, you casually grab his plate and stand up.

“i’ll just be right back,” you say nonchalantly, walking toward the kitchen.

george freezes, fork in midair, watching you disappear with his food. at first, he just blinks, processing what just happened. then, he calls after you.

“love?”

you stay silent, waiting.

another second passes.

“babe?” his voice is a little more confused this time.

still nothing from you.

now you hear his chair scrape against the floor as he gets up, followed by hurried footsteps coming toward the kitchen. you grab a spoon and take a big, dramatic bite of his food just as he walks in.

he stops in the doorway, hands on his hips, staring at you like you’ve just committed the ultimate betrayal.

“love,” he says, slow and measured, “what are you doing?”

you make a big show of chewing, eyes closing as you hum in satisfaction. “mm. wow. this is really good.”

george blinks, looking between you and his stolen plate. “yeah, i know. that’s why i was eating it.”

you sigh, shaking your head. “honestly, i don’t think you appreciated it enough. i just had to double-check how good it was.”

he folds his arms. “by eating my dinner?”

you nod, taking another bite just to test his patience.

george lets out a long, dramatic sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “after everything i’ve done today—hours of training, media, testing—this is how you treat me?”

you smirk. “think of it as a lesson in patience.”

“oh, i’m very patient,” he argues, stepping closer, eyes narrowing. “but i will be getting my food back.”

before you can react, he lunges for the plate. you try to dodge, but george is quicker. he snatches it back, holding it above his head like a trophy.

“ha!” he exclaims victoriously.

you pout. “that was rude.”

george smirks, taking an exaggerated bite right in front of you. “oh wow. this is really good.”

you gasp. “now you’re just mocking me.”

he winks. “just had to double-check how good it was.”

you groan, swatting at him as he laughs and walks triumphantly back to the table, plate in hand.

“love you,” he calls over his shoulder.

you huff, crossing your arms. “yeah, yeah. enjoy your stolen dinner.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos thought of you as a saint—you could do no wrong in his eyes. and honestly, you could probably count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten mad at you… actually, scratch that. it’s zero.

this man loved, and he loved hard.

one of your favorite things to do together was cooking, but nothing beat grilling outside when the weather was hot. it became a little tradition—firing up the grill, making burgers, and just talking about the most random things.

today’s topic? trying to convince carlos to leave formula one so he could stay home with you every day.

“mi amor, that sounds like a great idea, but…” he gestures dramatically toward your beautiful backyard, “we would not have a home if i did that.”

you sigh dramatically. “we could live a simple life. maybe raise some chickens, grow our own vegetables…”

carlos gives you an amused look as he flips a burger. “you scream when a bug lands on you. you think you’re ready for farm life?”

“fair point.” you nod solemnly, making him laugh.

once the burgers are ready, you both sit outside on the deck, enjoying your food and the warm evening air. conversation flows as usual—lighthearted, full of teasing and laughter.

then, mid-bite, right when carlos is at peak burger enjoyment, you casually reach over and take the burger straight from his hands. not the plate. just the burger.

you don’t even wait for his reaction before standing up and walking into the house, taking a big bite as you go.

carlos blinks, completely caught off guard.

“amor?” his voice is laced with confusion and betrayal.

you don’t answer. you just keep walking.

then he snaps out of it.

“amor!” he calls louder, pushing his chair back as he stands. “come back here!”

you hear his footsteps on the deck as you disappear into the house, stuffing another bite into your mouth just as he reaches the doorway.

“oh, you’re in trouble now.”

you sprint toward the kitchen, but carlos is faster. within seconds, he wraps his arms around you from behind, tackling you onto the couch as you let out a squeal.

“no! carlos! it’s mine now!” you laugh, trying to take another bite, but he pins your arms, shaking his head.

“i trusted you,” he says dramatically, his face hovering inches from yours.

“and you love me,” you counter, mouth half full.

he sighs, looking at the last pathetic remains of his burger in your hand. “that was my best one yet…”

you pat his cheek, swallowing. “it was amazing, really.”

carlos groans before flopping off of you, lying on his back on the couch with a pout. “now what am i supposed to eat?”

you sit up, stretching. “i guess i could make you another one.”

he side-eyes you. “you guess?”

you grin. “fine, fine. i will make you another one.”

carlos huffs but follows you back to the kitchen, watching as you start grilling again. after a moment, he walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles.

you smirk. “i know.”

carlos laughs, kissing your cheek before finally getting his fresh, non-stolen burger.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles leclerc is the definition of polite. he treats everyone with kindness, never raises his voice unnecessarily, and avoids causing a scene at all costs.

so he definitely wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen to his dinner—at his favorite restaurant, no less.

before walking to your table, you quietly slipped the waiter a generous tip and explained your plan. the waiter grinned, fully on board, and assured you they’d pull it off perfectly.

by the time you sat down across from charles, you had to bite back a smile.

as you waited for the food to arrive, conversation flowed easily. you leaned in slightly. “do you think i should start traveling with you during the season?”

charles’ eyes lit up. “of course,” he said immediately. “i would love that. and we could bring leo too—he’d love it.”

you laughed. “leo on a private jet, living the life.”

charles nodded. “exactly. he’s already spoiled, but this would make him impossible to deal with.”

the food finally arrived, and as always, charles looked delighted as he took his first bite. you chatted here and there, but you were mostly just waiting for the moment.

then, just as charles lifted another forkful of food and put it into his mouth, the waiter swooped in and—without hesitation—took his plate away.

charles froze mid-chew, blinking in confusion.

you clenched your jaw to keep from laughing as his brows furrowed, his eyes following his plate as it disappeared.

“amore,” he exhaled, swallowing his bite as he turned to you. “what the hell just happened?”

you shrugged, pretending to be just as confused. “i have no idea.”

charles sighed, rubbing his forehead before muttering something in french. you caught bits of it—something about karma for not finishing his meal last time.

still holding back your laughter, you watched as he looked toward the waiter, debating whether or not to say something. charles wasn’t one to cause a scene, but this? this was testing his patience.

“excuse me?” he finally called out, voice still polite but definitely stressed.

you couldn’t hold it in any longer. letting out a laugh, you waved the waiter back over, who immediately returned with his plate.

charles looked between you and the waiter, realization dawning. “no…”

you grinned. “oui.”

the waiter set his plate down. “désolé, monsieur leclerc, but it was a request.”

charles turned to you, eyes narrowing. “baby…”

you beamed. “it’s just a prank!”

he stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, exhaling through his nose. “you…” he pointed his fork at you, squinting. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you leaned forward on your elbows. “i know.”

still mumbling in french about betrayal, charles picked up his fork again and resumed eating while you giggled, already thinking about what prank to pull next.

ʚ・lando norris

lando loves eating out with you—especially at small, lowkey urban spots where no one bothers him and the food is always good.

tonight was no different. after placing your order, you both slid into a booth, and lando immediately started rambling about something completely random.

“so i was thinking,” he said, gesturing animatedly, “if we ever get, like, really lost somewhere—like, no signal, no gps—do you think i’d be able to navigate us out just by looking at the stars?”

you snorted. “lando, you can’t even navigate a grocery store.”

“that’s different,” he argued. “they put all the good stuff at the back on purpose. it’s a scam.”

before you could argue further, your food arrived—a fresh, steaming-hot pizza.

“finally,” lando sighed happily, grabbing a slice immediately.

you both started eating, chatting between bites, until suddenly, just as lando reached for another slice, the cashier you tipped earlier casually walked over, picked up the entire pizza, and walked away.

lando froze, mouth slightly open, staring at the now-empty table.

“hey, i was eat—” he started, but before he could finish, the guy was already gone, disappearing into the back.

his head turned slowly toward you, utterly confused. “what… just happened?”

you glanced down at your own half-eaten slice, pretending to inspect it. “do you think they took it away because the pizza was bad?” you asked, struggling to hold in your laughter.

lando frowned, tilting his head. “i mean… maybe? but we already ate some. wouldn’t they have warned us first?”

you shrugged. “maybe they realized it too late—maybe it’s, like, radioactive or something.”

lando blinked, deep in thought. “well… i feel fine. for now.”

then, shaking his head, he pushed his chair back. “i’ll just go talk to them—”

before he could stand, the cashier reappeared, grinning as he placed the pizza right back on the table. “enjoy your food.”

lando just stared at the guy, then at the pizza, then at you.

“were we not already…?” his brows furrowed.

that was it. you couldn’t hold it in anymore. you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach as lando continued to sit there, completely lost.

“what?” he asked, blinking. “what’s so funny?”

still laughing, you managed to get out, “i—i told them to do it. it was a prank! for tiktok!”

lando’s jaw dropped. “you set me up?”

you nodded, still giggling.

he exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. “wow. betrayal. right in front of my pizza.”

“i had to,” you grinned. “your face was priceless.”

lando grabbed his slice, taking a big bite while still glaring at you playfully. “i hope tiktok enjoys this, because i’m not sharing my pizza with you anymore.”

you gasped. “lando—”

“nope.” he turned away, holding his slice protectively. “find another victim.”

you just kept laughing as he ate, shaking his head at you—but deep down, you knew he’d totally get you back for this.

ʚ・oscar piastri

there’s nothing better than a good pasta, so while you and oscar were in italy, you decided to have some fun. recently, you’d been seeing the tiktok trend where waiters take food away mid-meal, and what better place to pull it off than in the land of pasta itself?

tipping isn’t really the norm in italy, but you still managed to sneak the waiter a little cash. using your very broken high school italian, you did your best to explain the prank. it wasn’t easy—your italian was atrocious—but thankfully, after showing him the tiktok, he got the idea. with a knowing grin, he agreed.

when you and oscar sat down, you could barely contain your excitement. the pasta finally arrived, steaming hot, and you both eagerly dug in.

as always, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. oscar was rambling about something—probably a weird f1 fact or a debate about whether pineapple belonged on pizza—when you glanced at the waiter and gave him a small, knowing smile.

that was his cue.

without hesitation, the waiter swooped in, grabbed oscar’s plate, and walked away.

oscar froze, fork still mid-air, a single strand of pasta dangling from it. his eyes followed his plate as it disappeared into the kitchen.

“did… did my food just get stolen?” he asked slowly, turning to you with the most genuinely confused expression you had ever seen.

you pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. “maybe… do you think something was wrong with it?”

oscar frowned, looking down at the pasta still on your plate. “but we’re eating the same thing…” he blinked. “was mine poisoned or something?”

you shrugged. “maybe they realized too late and saved your life.”

oscar squinted at you. “so they just left yours?”

you bit the inside of your cheek to stop from laughing. “maybe they don’t care if i get poisoned.”

his jaw dropped. “that’s messed up.” he started shifting in his seat, glancing toward the kitchen. “i should probably go—”

just as he was about to stand up, the waiter returned, placing his plate back down in front of him with a grin. “buon appetito.”

oscar looked at the waiter, then at you, then back at his pasta. his face was priceless.

“wait, what?” he looked genuinely lost. “was i… not supposed to have it? were we not already eating?”

that was it—you burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

“oscar,” you wheezed between laughs, “it was just a prank! for tiktok!”

he blinked. once. twice. then, realization hit.

“oh, my god.” he groaned, rubbing his face. “you set me up? in italy?”

you wiped a tear from your eye. “yes, and it was so worth it.”

oscar shook his head, sighing dramatically before twirling some pasta onto his fork. “unbelievable. i thought i was actually banned from eating for a second.”

“you should’ve seen your face,” you giggled.

he rolled his eyes, taking a bite. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you smirked. “i know.”

oscar chuckled, pointing his fork at you. “but just so you know, you will pay for this.”

you shrugged, twirling your own pasta. “looking forward to it.”

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my-smial · 4 hours ago

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tag quoting myself because now I've been thinking about Avatar 2 The Way of Water all day and actually I am more mad.

#Yeah agree with mornyavie#Avatar 2 The way of water is very bad#I wish they had used their tech to make a 4 hour fake nature documentary instead#The only good parts were the sweeping setting shots but as said you could barely enjoy those because#For a movie theoretically about the evil colonizer ripping up wildlife it's also so weirdly colonial#It hits all the worst elements of the modern sequel boom#The plot is Plot 2: Plottier Morier#It pulls a Somehow Palpatine Returned *twice*#Once via weird Jesusy virgin birth!#Kills characters in a way that feels bad#Jake the protagonist is made a pretty crap dad in ways where I am sometimes unclear the story notices he's being controlling#And top it off there's ANOTHER plotline of a kid being kidnapped by his abusive father but the narrative *really* wants you to accept that#They will just naturally love each other if only given the chance#It sucks!

Literally, there are probably just two things anyone knows about Avatar I. 1. the visuals are pretty good. 2. If you are at all plugged in to movie criticism, then you've seen a discussion of how the surface-level environmentalist and anti-colonialist messages are hamstrung by still centering a white man and by the Alien Pocahontas aesthetics. We have firmly established that if you would like to make anti-colonialism land, you should be direct. Or at least put much more work into your metaphors.

So TEN ENTIRE YEARS of this discussion later, the team behind Avatar II has the opportunity to engage more deeply with its own themes, and even, with movie 1 ending with humans jettisoned back to Earth, the prime opportunity to write a powerful story involving no humans at all.

NOPE. they apparently did no thinking at all about the one thing anyone can say to critique their movie and instead they brought the humans back for another half-baked attempt at making a statement! These movies have SO MUCH WORK put into them, the visuals and worldbuilding and language, and it's all wasted by being the fluff setting for the world's worst and most confused storyline. I am offended on behalf of everyone who got to work on it.

What would you guys consider the worst movie you've ever seen? Not something that's fun to make fun of, nothing you ironically enjoyed, I mean just an absolutely miserable moviegoing experience that you paid for, hated every second, and wish you had walked out of and asked for a refund.

For me, no joke, Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted. It did not even feel like a real movie to me. It made me see red! I was SEETHING with anger and annoyance throughout the entire thing, and I cannot for the life of me articulate why. I saw it once in 2012 when I was 15, I remember almost nothing about it now, but it struck a nerve with me like no other movie ever has before or since.

Tell me in the tags, which movie makes you disproportionately angry just thinking about it?

#sorry im just really mad #for no reason

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ariestrxsh · 1 day ago

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sub!chris x dom!reader

ᯓ★ content warning: smut, mommy kink, teasing, humiliation, use of vibrator (on chris), strap sucking, gagging, pegging, making a sex tape

ᯓ★ summary: chris begs you to make him go dumb on your strap while on camera

If you don't like the content, don't read !!! I know pegging isn't for everyone, and that's totally fine.

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

Sextape

"C'mon, Chris. Hold the camera still. Or else I won't let you cum," you sweetly cooed to the blue-eyed boy sitting in front of you. A series of soft whines cascaded from his pouty lips as you drew circles on his swollen, pink tip that you were relentlessly teasing with your vibrator.

His sweaty palms gripped the camera a bit more tightly as he directed the lens at his lap and what you were doing to him, but he couldn't keep it from shaking. You reduced the intensity of the vibrations as Chris struggled to listen to your directions. "Chris," you said more sternly this time, raising your eyebrows.

"I'm trying, mommy. It just feel so good," he purred. "Please. Turn it back up. I'll be a good boy. I'll hold it steady," Chris begged, peering down at the way you expertly stimulated his cock through the view finder.

You loved how pathetic he sounded when he pleaded with you. How could you say no? You gave in, giving him what he wanted and switching it back to a more intense setting as you watched him squirm around.

One of the things you loved most about Chris was how confident and assertive he was in his every day life, but the second it was just the two of you behind closed doors, his submissive side would come out to play. All of a sudden, his cool, calm, and collected facade would crumble, and he'd turn in a whiny, needy, and desperate little thing.

He'd never admit to his brothers or his friends the activities the two of you did in secret, but he loved them. He adored the way you'd take your bullet vibrator and gently run it up and down his length. He couldn't get enough of the way you tugged on his pretty, brown hair or the things you'd whisper into his ear. He loved when you'd get out the strap and have your way with him.

He savored it all so much, in fact, that he'd asked you if the two of you could film it. He'd practically begged for it. Of course, you obliged, unable to say no to him anytime he turned on his submissive charm. You loved the idea of making a video with him, one he'd watch back during his solo activities when you were unavailable.

You were surprised, though. "Aren't you worried Matt or Nick might find it? Or one of your friends?" You'd asked, wrinkling your brow with a puzzled expression on your face. "I'll keep it somewhere safe. No one will ever know," he'd responded, more focused on the reward of filming it and less focused on the possible consequences.

That's how the two of you ended up here - with your favorite toy resting against the sweet boy's tip while he practically dug his fingernails into the sides of the camera as he struggled to keep it stable. You took the vibrating object and started slowly running it up and down a prominent vein on the backside of his shaft.

When you returned to his sensitive head, a sharp whine slipped from his lips as his cock twitched. His big, round eyes flicked up to meet yours, and he gave you the most precious look with tinted pink cheeks, slightly parted lips, and his expression steeped in desire.

"Give me that," you ordered, taking the camcorder from his trembling hands. You pointed it at the blue-eyed boy, not wanting his gorgeous, fucked out features to go undocumented. "Look at you. Such a pretty boy," you cooed, peering down at him through the view finder as he screwed his eyes shut and formed his lips into a perfect o shape. "You look so handsome on camera."

You tilted the lens down at the pearly liquid gathering at his perfect slit. You could tell he was getting close, but you weren't ready to let him cum just yet. You slowed the speed of the vibrations, watching Chris' expression fall as you withdrew the sensation. "Mommy, why are you always so mean to me?" He pouted.

You took the toy and set it off to the side, ignoring his question. "Get on your knees," you directed him as you stood to your feet, pointing the lens of the camera at the blue strap you had harnessed to your body. "Suck it for me, baby," you purred, tilting his chin up with your free hand. He parted his lips to take you in, but he hesitated for a second.

"What's wrong, baby? You love this part," you sweetly asked him, running your manicured nails along his jawline. "Can I please touch myself while I suck on it, mommy?" He wondered. "Sure, you can, but you're not allowed to cum, baby," you replied in a serious voice, and he eagerly nodded. His tongue darted out and he flitted it across the tip.

"Good boy," you murmured, slipping the end of the strap into his mouth as he wrapped his lips around it. His fingers snaked around his shaft, and he started slowly stroking it as he bobbed his head up and down. "Wow. Look at you. You're doing such a good job. You might even suck cock better than I do," you whispered.

He slipped you out of his mouth for a moment and shook his head. "No way, mommy. Not even close," he replied before popping you back into his mouth, knowing that if he had agreed with your original comment, he'd most definitely be punished.

You let out a chuckle, adoring how much control you had over him in these moments. He'd do and say anything to please you. "You take it so well, though, pretty boy," you sweetly answered him, placing your free hand on his head as you drove your hips forward at a rougher pace, eliciting a soft gagging sound from the boy on his knees in front of you.

His hand stroked his cock more fervently as he choked on you, a look of pleasure written on his face as he opened his throat, graciously taking you deeper. You smirked down at him, tightening your grip on his hair and tugging on it as you fucked his pretty mouth, a bit of drool gathering in the corners of his lips.

"Oh, my god, Chris. You were made for this," you commented, looking into his teary bedroom eyes that were fixed on the lens of the camcorder. Your gaze flickering between the real life vision that was playing out in front of you and the perspective through the view finder. "You could be a star."

He sucked on it for a few more minutes, moans escaping him as he tried to keep himself from finishing too early. He switched off between peering up at you and the camera lens as he hollowed out his cheeks, sliding his lips up and down your length.

"Okay, pretty boy. Get on the bed and get on all fours," you demanded, tapping the tip of his nose with your pointer finger in a teasing manner. "Yes, mommy," he replied, his eyes growing wider and his face beaming as he realized you were finally going to give him what he so desperately craved. He turned around and crawled onto the bed.

You opened a bottle of lube with one hand, applied it to your strap, and positioned yourself at his opening. "I made sure I was ready for you, mommy," Chris mumbled, gazing back at the camera. You knew that meant that he must have had some fun with his dildo before he'd come over, and imagining it was enough to have your arousal slowly dripping down the inside of your thigh.

Your lips curled into a smile, and you made sure to capture Chris' reaction as you entered him from the back, his eyes screwing shut and his face contorting in a look of pleasure. His expression softened after the initial stretch and after you'd started gently rocking your hips.

Soft whimpers filled the air as he threw himself back into you, arching his back and tipping back his head at the sensation. His right hand reached up to soothe his aching cock, beginning to move his closed fist up and down his shaft.

You'd bent Chris over many times, but there was something about this particular time that escalated the whole experience. You weren't sure if it was just the way Chris looked on film in the soft lighting, all his features enhanced by the clearness of the image, or if it was the fact that he was really leaning into his desperation, almost putting on a show, and really exaggerating his body movements and the sounds he made.

"You fucking love this, don't you, baby?" You mumbled, admiring the perfect curve of his spine and the way his ass jiggled with every thrust. "I do, mommy. I love being used by you," he whimpered, peering back at you and the technology in your hand.

"I know you love that, sweet boy, but I was talking about being on camera. You just love it, don't you?" He slowly nodded, gripping the sheets beneath him with his free hand. "Good boy. You look so fucking good getting fucked on video," you replied, knowing how much he was getting off on it.

There was something about being recorded - being in the spotlight and being so vulnerable - that drove him wild and made him even more daring. "Give it to me harder, mommy. You know I can take it," he begged in a subservient voice.

You raised your eyebrows at him, knowing this was usually the roughest he could stand, but you couldn't say no to him, looking back at you with his submissive eyes. You nodded as you railed him harder, driving your strap deeper and hitting his pleasure spot over and over. It felt good for you as well, pressure being put on your clit every time you snapped your hips forward.

You could tell Chris was nearing the edge, moans and profanities pouring from him as he went dumb on your silicone cock. "Come on, baby. Smile for Nick and Matt when they find this," you teased him. He snapped his head around, glaring in your direction.

"Hey! That's - that's not - " Chris struggled through his sentence, every thrust of your hips jolting his body forward. "That's not funny," he finally managed to say, making eye contact with the camera before his jaw dropped, and a pretty sound escaped his lips.

You tilted the camcorder back down at Chris' perfectly shaped ass as you delivered a harsh smack, leaving behind a red hand print. He yelped in delight as you slammed into him over and over, his palm brushing against the tip of his dick as his strokes became faster and messier.

"Mommy, I'm gonna cum!" He exclaimed, throwing his head back, arching his spine, and sending his hips back onto you. "Cum for mommy," you softly cooed in response. "Cum for the camera." A smirk tugged at the edge of you lip as Chris came undone for you, his cum spilling from his tip and soaking the sheets beneath the two of you as he finished.

"Good boy. That's it," you gently purred, slowing down your thrusts as Chris slumped over, cheeks flushed and chest heaving as he came down from the whole experience. He rolled over after you'd pulled out of him, a satisfied smile plastered on his face as he tried to look into the camera, fucked out of his mind.

"You did so good, baby," you aimed the camera at his spent cock and the mess he'd made on his abdomen as well as the spot on the bed next to him. He chuckled, covering himself with his hands and becoming a bit embarrassed about how into it he had been, being the star of the video.

"Okay. Kiss the camera, pretty boy," you teased him, shoving the lens into his face, very clearly poking fun at him and his brothers and their early YouTube days when Matt would kiss the camera as their outro. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, still catching his breath. He finally did as you said, raising his head, pressing his lips to the lens, and making a dramatic kissing sound before you ended the scene.

After you and Chris cleaned up and got dressed, the two of you sat at the edge of your bed and played it back. It was a cinematic masterpiece. The lighting was perfect. Chris' moans came through so distinctly, the microphone even picking up his soft pants and subtle tonality changes as he got closer. "Fuck. I know this was your idea, but I kind of want a copy," you smirked, staring down at the video and how pathetic Chris looked and sounded.

"Ah, I think having two of these floating around in existence is a little too risky for my taste," Chris responded, his cheeks turning pink as he grabbed the camera from you. "You can borrow it whenever you want, though," he teased you. "Oh, is that right?" You asked, raising your eyebrows at him before playfully tackling him and taking the camera back.

"Maybe I'll hold onto it, but you can borrow it whenever you want, though," you mocked him, repeating it in the same patronizing voice he'd used when he'd said it to you.

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #sub chris sturniolo #sub!chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut

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cloverandstuff · 3 days ago

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Allow me to psychoanalyse this drawing-

I think this drawing was made by Luka. Mainly, due to the fact that Hyuna is the one drawn with the most detail. I think it's also fairly obvious with how it's drawn, that it was made by Luka when he became friends with the siblings.

That leads me to my next point; Luka did not dislike Hyunwoo. I'd even go as far as to say he regarded him in a positive manner. He is the only other person here besides Hyuna who is not blonde.

Now, why is everyone else blonde? I think it's because Luka was imagining a life with his clones and the siblings, in Anakt Garden.

He looks horrified in this scene. It doesn't seem like he took joy or even feels numb here. He looks to be in genuine shock over what happened.

The body don't have a single stab wound either. None that we can see. All we see is the cases they're in shattered. Like they were released and they weren't able to survive.

Here, he's just looking at them. No attempt to get closer, nor to destroy them. He just looks on.

The drawing makes me think that Luka was seeking out other people. He was, in every way, a lonely child. He wanted a sense of belonging. He wanted him and his clones, and Hyuna and Hyunwoo to all just...live happily in Anakt Garden.

And with the few frames we get of this incident throughout, it does seem like Hyunwoo was the one to throw the first punch. Luka never initiated a fight, he always just annoyed Hyunwoo who would respind angrily. It didn't make sense why he would just randomly kill Hyunwoo.

With this, it makes more sense. Luka killed Hyunwoo through an accident. It was a fight gone too far. He does not feel remorse, but it doesn't seem like he actively wanted to kill him.

If this is truly the case, then while Hyuna is right to hate him because he does not feel conscious regret over this, her speech at the at also makes sense. Because she knows he truly is just...clueless.

Luka has never truly allowed himself to mourn loss, or regret actions. He was constantly chasing a high, which he got from Hyuna. He loved her, he truly did. But it was initially borne out of her giving him a sense of belonging.

He loved her because she gave him what he was seeking out from his clones; to erase the loneliness he felt.

Luka is clueless about his own emotions. Him and Ivan are alike in that sense. They both are unable to properly understand their feelings. But while Ivan allows his love to be a silent protector, Luka is much more childish and desperate.

Luka, in every way possible, is just a lonely child.

#alien stage #alnst #alien stage luka #alnst luka #alnst hyuna #alien stage hyuna #hyuluka #alnst hyunwoo #alnst ivan #alien stage ivan #ivantill #alnst analysis #alien stage analysis #my analysis #alnst wiege #alien stage wiege #alnst spoilers #alien stage spoilers

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 days ago

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Full-Court Love

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd

POV: First-person

Fandom: UConn’s Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: they make time they always do

Valentine’s Day as a college athlete is a tricky thing.

Between practices, classes, and upcoming games, there’s barely any time to breathe, let alone plan something romantic. And this year? It was even worse.

We had the biggest game of the season against South Carolina on the 16th, which meant Coach had us locked into an intense practice schedule. No distractions. No excuses.

But when you’re dating both Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd?

You make time. They make time.

The first sign that Paige and Azzi were up to something came when I walked into the locker room after practice and found a red envelope sitting on top of my bag.

I glanced around, but everyone else was either showering or changing, too focused on their own post-practice routines to notice.

Curious, I picked it up and opened it.

Inside was a simple note, written in Azzi’s neat handwriting:

“Meet us in the film room. Don’t be late. ❤️”

I raised an eyebrow, then shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips.

Whatever they had planned, I already knew it was going to be good.

By the time I got to the film room, I could hear Paige’s laughter through the door.

I pushed it open to find her and Azzi standing in front of the projector screen, which was now displaying a homemade PowerPoint slide that read:

“WHY YOU SHOULD BE OUR VALENTINE”

I blinked. “You made a PowerPoint?”

Paige grinned. “You know I love a good presentation.”

Azzi nodded, holding up a remote. “We have five slides prepared.”

I crossed my arms, biting back a laugh. “This is so unserious.”

Paige smirked. “Just sit down and watch, babe.”

I sighed dramatically but took a seat. “Fine. Impress me.”

Azzi clicked to the next slide, which had a picture of me in my UConn jersey mid-game, looking absolutely locked in. Underneath it, the text read:

“Reason #1: You’re the best player on the team (don’t tell Coach we said that).”

I snorted. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Paige grinned. “Next slide, Z.”

The next one showed a candid photo of the three of us from last semester, curled up together on the couch, half-asleep during a movie night.

“Reason #2: You make every moment better.”

I felt my heart squeeze a little.

Azzi glanced at me, a small smile on her face. “It’s true. Even when we’re exhausted, just being with you makes everything feel easier.”

Paige nudged her. “Damn, getting sentimental already?”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Paige.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Y’all are actually kinda cute.”

Paige winked. “Just wait.”

The next slide had a picture of me standing between them after a game, arms around their shoulders, all three of us grinning.

“Reason #3: We love you, duh.”

I exhaled softly, warmth spreading through my chest.

Paige leaned against the desk. “We know the timing sucks this year with the South Carolina game coming up, but we didn’t want today to just feel like any other day.”

Azzi nodded. “So, will you be our Valentine?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile on my face. “Like I’d ever say no to you two.”

Paige grinned. “Good answer.”

Azzi smirked. “We also have dinner plans.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Coach explicitly said no distractions—”

Paige waved a hand. “Coach didn’t say we couldn’t eat dinner.”

Azzi nodded. “And we already cleared it with the team. A bunch of them are doing their own little date nights before we go full lock-in mode tomorrow.”

I sighed, standing up. “Y’all really thought of everything, huh?”

Paige smirked. “Always.”

Azzi grabbed my hand. “Come on. It’s a surprise.”

They took me to a small, cozy Italian restaurant about fifteen minutes off campus, one of those places you’d never notice unless you were looking for it.

The second we walked in, I realized Paige and Azzi had really planned ahead—the restaurant had a private table set up in the back, complete with dim lighting and a tiny vase of roses in the center.

I turned to them, impressed. “Okay, I was expecting something chill, but y’all actually went all out.”

Paige grinned, pulling out a chair for me. “Only the best for our girl.”

Azzi sat down across from me, smiling softly. “We figured we wouldn’t get much alone time after today, so we wanted to make this one count.”

I glanced between them, warmth pooling in my chest. “I love you two, you know that?”

Paige smirked. “We do now.”

Azzi reached across the table, lacing her fingers with mine. “Love you too.”

Paige nodded, grabbing my other hand. “Love you more.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not doing the ‘who loves who more’ thing at this table.”

Azzi smirked. “That sounds like something someone losing would say.”

Paige cackled. “OHH, she got you.”

I groaned. “Y’all are literally the worst.”

Paige winked. “And you love it.”

Unfortunately for me, she wasn’t wrong.

After dinner, we walked back to the car, hands intertwined as the cold February air nipped at our skin.

Paige nudged me playfully. “So, did we do okay?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay? Y’all actually managed to surprise me. That’s a first.”

Azzi grinned. “That was the goal.”

I looked between them, my heart feeling way too full. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Paige smirked. “Just wait until next year.”

Azzi nodded. “We’re only getting started.”

And knowing them?

I believed it.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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side-by-side-sideblog · 15 hours ago

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As a butch individual I will not like you, fuck you, talk to you, make friends with you, or entertain you if you hate men, neither will my partner and other butches I know. It is not progressive, man hating isn't queer culture, because men are queer culture. Men are why I am masc, they accepted my masculinity first, lesbians were butch and masculine phobic to me for 8 years till I figured my shit out. I know that isn't the norm, but it isn't rare either.

These people put me back in the closet over and over. They don't support gender or sex being a spectrum, if they do they're showing no signs of it. They think saying men dni will stop guys who harass people but they don't stop because they don't care about consent and a dni doesn't change that. There are plenty of girl bloggers who also don't respect consent and send people gore and threats over minor disagreements. We don't go after them hardly at all in comparison considering we have people who've been doing that since 2016 and earlier that people still reblog and uplift because they're women. Men doing that on here don't get that treatment, because it's rightfully wrong. Most other sites white non queer men do getaway with that more while women don't, the Tumblr user base reversing that isn't progressive, because cis white women here get more slack then anyone else because trans fems, trans mascs, intersex people, and non white people get the "evil" tag over small shit, let alone actual bad things.

We teach in current society that men are incapable of consent, as if it's in their nature. This isn't true, but it sure does create a lot of guys who lack boundaries. That doesn’t mean Man = Bad it means society saying Man = Wild Beast is bad. A man is just whoever identifies as one, and identifying as a man has nothing to do with lack of consent, or toxic masculinity. I sometimes wonder if I identify as butch in a man way, idk, and I don't care, I am who I am, and women are who I spend time with in a queer way. My closeness to masculinity isn't traitor behavior. Femininity isn't Divinity, I do not worship women. Masculinity isn't an Ignominity, I do not criminalize men. Masculinity is also not Divinity, and Femininity isn't an Ignominity. Both can be fallible at times when the conditions are right, but they are neutral markers.

To make man = good we do that by just changing ourselves and our ideas of masculinity being bad, then we teach it to everyone else, including kids, friends, partners, and parents. When people stop the "boys will be boys" then more men will be taught consent.

I have an actual irrational hatred for a character that makes me burst into anger and hour long rants (not joking) because I see him as the epitome of toxic masculinity. Seeing him in a profile picture can ruin my day, but I do not put him in a dni list because I am not going to blame fans of him for my distaste in how the media itself supports his bad actions as good. Just like if I get harassed by men who lack consent, I will not blame all men and put men dni.

Saying "I block ＿" is better anyway.

Plus, how can you know someone's a woman? Not everyone has pronouns listed, gender listed, or just a big neon sign saying "I'm a woman." you will have no idea if people are respecting your frankly outrageous ask of who can follow or reblog your posts.

Men on this site who respect women and reblog posts do exist, and there are a lot of them. Also trans eggs who are on this site are not going to figure themselves out through media like mlp, she-ra, and whatever you post by saying men dni. My trans sister cracked her egg six months ago, so for her blog she would have steered clear of men dni disclaimers and probably blocked them out of respect. Now how does she undo that, go through her entire block list? That would be crazy work for people who wouldn't have respected her pre transition (which they didn't, not even other trans girls or queer gurls in highschool did, only now would they support her. That's what man hating does to people.)

There is no simple solution to keeping people away, oh wait... It's called blocking.

tldr; Having a dni for an entire demographic of people just for the flaws of a few inside doesn't work. It never will. People who don't care about consent will breach it to hurt you.

if you have "cishet men dni" in your bio i, a trans man, will not touch you with a 10 foot pole. i should not be forced to out myself as a trans man just to interact with you. on top of that, cishet men are not inherently evil. stop trying to reinvent bioessentialism with your "girl good, boy bad!" mentality.

#trans fem #<- because I mentioned my sis #idk what else to tag #idk #I love men #<- that's a good one #found out toxic masculinity/femininity and anti femininity/masculinity are in some forms of scrabble when looking for inity suffixes #so that's a useless fun fact #or useless to me I guess #anti bioessentialism #<- forgot that one

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fandomfablesunleashed · 3 days ago

Text

Heartfelt Deception

Law x reader (she/her)

Modern AU, fake-dating, friends-to-lovers, like one swear word.

Summary: Law asked you to attend a charity event his hospital is hosting as his fake girlfriend. As if that wasn’t enough, it’s happening on Valentine’s Day.

Words: 7.5k

Notes: For the Valentine’s Week event. I had this whole fake dating-to-hospital event idea for the ficmas event, but I scrapped it because I didn’t have much time to write it then. I’m so glad I did, though, because I think the story turned out much better for Valentine’s Day than it would have for Christmas.

English is not my first language

Masterlist

Dr. Trafalgar Law was pacing back and forth in the small office of the hospital. His fingers drummed anxiously against the table as he read the charity event invitation for the fifth time, each glance making his pulse race a little faster.

The truth was, Law never liked events like this. Fundraisers, speeches, fake smiles—it all made him itch with discomfort. His introverted nature clashed with the expectations of being a ‘people person’ in the medical field, and the last thing he wanted was to attend an event where everyone would be looking at him.

A month ago, during yet another relentless round of coworkers begging him to attend an after-work gathering, Law had casually mentioned that he had plans. But instead of letting it go, they kept pressing, demanding to know why he was always declining invitations. Frustrated, he blurted out that he needed to spend time with his girlfriend. Before he could even think, the hospital buzzed with talk about his mysterious partner, one no one had ever met. Now, he was cornered into bringing his partner to the hospital's prestigious charity gala on Valentine’s Day. The irony wasn’t lost on him—his colleagues were all too eager to point out how fitting it was to host an event focused on heart issues on a day devoted to hearts.

As one of the hospital’s top cardiac surgeons, Law was expected to be a key speaker. Worse still, he was supposed to bring his girlfriend. But the problem? He didn’t have one.

There was only one person he could turn to—you.

“You want me to do what?!” you asked, your eyes wide with shock, your coffee cup momentarily forgotten in your hand.

He sighed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “I need you to go with me to that stupid gala as my girlfriend.”

Your brow furrowed as you set the cup down. “You're serious?”

“Why would I joke about something like this?”

“Why would you make up a girlfriend just to avoid gatherings?” you shot back, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed. “You could’ve just said you weren’t interested in going.”

He glanced down at the table, clearly agitated, his fingers tapping against the surface in a nervous rhythm. “It’s not that simple. I’ve already turned them down too many times. They won’t leave me alone. And now I’m expected to show up—with a date. It’s just… ridiculous.”

You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, as you considered his words. “Why not just say you broke up recently?”

“Because it’s obvious. Then I lose that excuse for the future,” he said, picking up his cup and drinking from it.

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to wrap your head around the absurdity of it all. “So, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night, just so you can avoid more gatherings down the line?”

“Yes,” he said simply, as if it were the most logical solution in the world.

You shook your head, unable to help the small laugh that escaped you. “You’re ridiculous. When is this supposed to happen?”

“February 14th,” he replied, avoiding your gaze.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Valentine’s Day?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, they thought they were being so clever with that one.”

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. You couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, is this your way of asking me to be your Valentine?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Who’s being ridiculous now?” But then, with a sly smirk, he added, “So... you’re in?”

A long pause hung in the air as you considered his request. The idea of pretending to be his girlfriend was insane, yes. Pretending to be someone’s girlfriend—for Valentine’s Day, no less—was the kind of thing you’d laugh about in a bad rom-com. But the look on his face was impossible to ignore. Desperation, tinged with just enough pride to keep him from outright begging.

Finally, you sighed, crossing your arms as if it might shield you from the insanity you were about to agree to. “Fine. But you owe me big time for this.”

“Don’t worry,” The smirk on his face widened into a grin, and you wondered what exactly you’d just gotten yourself into. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

And with that, you sealed your fate.

The day of the event had finally arrived. Law was at your door, punctual as always, ready to pick you up just as you'd arranged. He stood there, dressed impeccably—his sharp suit tailored to perfection, exuding confidence and elegance. You tried your hardest not to stare too much, but it was impossible not to notice how effortlessly he pulled it all off.

“Ready?” His voice broke through your thoughts.

“Just a moment,” you replied, your voice betraying your hesitation as you moved closer to the mirror. You needed to make sure everything was just right. You were dressed in the outfit that made you feel good about yourself and was fitting for such an event. Yet, despite all the preparation, a knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. The idea of pretending to be Law's girlfriend made you nervous, no matter how hard you tried to pretend it did not.

He sighed when you took your sweet time. “Can you stop checking yourself out?”

You glanced at him, an eyebrow arched. “Sorry for making sure people won’t judge your taste too much...” you grumbled, half-amused, half-defensive.

He scoffed as he moved closer, looking at you in the mirror. “Like I care what people think.” Then, with a pause, he added, his voice quieter, almost… sincere, “Besides, you look… stunning.”

You froze for a moment, surprised by his words. “Really?”

“Yes,” he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His gaze softened, and you swore you saw a hint of admiration there.

“Um, thanks. And… you look amazing too.”

He cleared his throat, somewhat uncomfortable but trying to hide it. “Let’s just go, shall we?”

“You're sure this will work, right?” Law muttered as he turned to face you.

“Yes, it’ll work.” You flashed a confident grin, trying to reassure him, though you were just as uncertain as he was. “You’re the one who got us into this mess.”

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

“Well, I can’t believe you made up a girlfriend in the first place,” you shot back. “But here we are.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face again, not sure whether to laugh or groan. It was one thing to get himself into this mess, but dragging you in was entirely a different matter. The pressure was mounting on both of you. Could you really pull this off?

Then you caught his eye. A flicker of humor, a spark of something you couldn’t quite place, passed between you, and at that moment, you knew you could. Maybe this absurd charade wasn’t as impossible as it seemed.

He let out a long breath and straightened his posture, his decision made. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“Lead the way, then,” you replied, your tone playful, despite the nerves you were still trying to suppress.

He gave a curt nod, opening the door and holding it for you. With that, you stepped into the venue. The Valentine’s Day theme was apparent everywhere— pink and red lighting bathed the space, heart-shaped centerpieces adorned every table, and a live jazz band played romantic melodies in the background. You looked over at him and snorted seeing his expression.

“I take it Valentine’s Day isn’t your favorite holiday?” you teased, leaning just close enough so he could hear without anyone else catching on.

Law’s gaze flickered to you, his brow arching slightly. “What gave it away?” he said dryly, expending his arm to you.

“Oh, just a hunch,” you said with a small smile, slipping your hands through his arm. “You’re doing great, though. Really selling the whole ‘romantic evening’ thing.”

Law’s expression didn’t shift much, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips that told you he wasn’t entirely immune to your teasing. “I’m thrilled you think so,” he muttered as he led you through the crowd. You caught glimpses of the people who had been whispering about Law's relationship for weeks. Their eyes fell on you both with curiosity.

“Dr. Trafalgar!” one of the nurses called out, waving excitedly. She eyed you with a wide smile. “Is this your girlfriend?”

Law’s face remained neutral. “Yes,” he answered smoothly and introduced you.

The nurse let out a little squeal of delight. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!” she exclaimed. “We’ve all been dying to know more about Dr. Trafalgar’s mysterious girlfriend.”

You gave a polite smile, taking the opportunity to slip into the role. “It's a pleasure to meet you, too. He talks a lot about his team,” you said lightly, with a little twinkle in your eye as you glanced at Law. He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

The nurse beamed. “Oh, I'm sure he does,” she said, her eyes still sparkling as she looked from you to Law. “It’s rare to see him... charming.” Her voice dropped to a playful whisper, though it was clear she wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. “We always wondered what kind of woman could put up with him.”

You gave a small, modest laugh, sensing the opportunity to keep the conversation flowing. “He’s not as difficult as he looks.” You turned to Law, flashing him a playful smile. “And I'm quite lucky he let me in.”

Law’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he quickly masked it with his usual impassive expression. “Enough about me,” he said smoothly, redirecting the conversation. “Let’s get you something to drink.” He turned toward the drink table, eager to move on.

As the two of you moved through the gala, a sense of ease settled between you. The people who approached were friendly, curious, and all too eager to meet the mysterious woman who had somehow captured the heart of the elusive surgeon. Law, as always, seemed somewhat distant, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, as if the weight of the event was just a little lighter with you by his side.

“Well, well, if it isn't the lovely girlfriend!” Shachi grinned, giving you a dramatic bow before standing up straight again. “You look awesome.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Shachi. You certainly know how to flatter a girl.”

Penguin let out a low, amused chuckle from behind him. “Yeah, well, Law’s been talking about you for weeks,” he added. “He was so worried about you not showing up and ruining his perfect plan. I’m surprised you agreed to it, honestly.”

You gave Penguin a knowing smile. “What can I say? Someone had to save his ass.” You shot a quick glance at Law, who stood beside you, his expression neutral, but you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Shachi leaned casually against the table, clearly enjoying himself, and turned to Law with a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, how does it feel to finally have a real girlfriend? I mean, I’ve been hearing rumors about this for a while, but you’re actually pulling it off, huh?”

Law rolled his eyes but didn’t respond immediately, though you could tell he was trying to keep his cool. “This will be a long night,” he muttered under his breath, but his friends were far too eager to let him off the hook.

Shachi’s grin only grew wider. “I’m just curious—how’s the ‘relationship’ going so far?” He glanced at Law, whose jaw was tight, trying to suppress his frustration. “Any sparks flying between the two of you yet?”

“Shachi,” Law said in warning, but he wasn’t listening. Law rolled his eyes, though there was a slight curve to his lips, as if even he couldn’t help but be somewhat entertained by his friends' antics. “I told you I didn’t need this kind of commentary tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shachi continued, entirely ignoring Law’s attempts to rein him in. “But it’s so much more fun when we do comment.” He threw an arm around Penguin’s shoulder, giving him an exaggerated nudge. “So, Dr. Trafalgar, how’s it feel having your friends finally meet your ‘girlfriend’? You look so… happy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at their behaviour. “I’m sure Law’s thrilled by all the attention,” you said, playing the part, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Law cast you a sideways glance, but there was something warmer in his eyes than before. “Let’s just get through tonight, shall we?” he said, attempting his best authoritative tone, though there was a clear undertone of amusement, as if he was enjoying it just a little more than he let on.

Just as the playful back-and-forth was beginning to die down, a loud, familiar voice cut through the chatter from across the room.

“YOOO! Look who it is!”

Usopp’s boisterous voice rang out, and you barely had time to brace yourself before he was at your side, grinning like a mischievous cat. He was joined by Kaya, who was looking stunning in an elegant dress, her eyes sparkling as she waved.

Shit. How had you not considered the possibility that Usopp would be here? Kaya was a nurse at the same hospital as Law, and of course, she’d bring him as her plus-one.

“Usopp, Kaya,” you greeted with a smile, trying to remain composed despite the sudden attention being drawn your way. Usopp's loud voice had already caused a ripple of curiosity to spread through the crowd.

Usopp’s gaze darted between you and Law. “Wait a minute… what are you doing here?” he asked. His voice was just loud enough for the people around you to overhear, making you feel the weight of every set of eyes now shifting in your direction.

You glanced at Law, who was now wearing a mask of calm—though you could tell by the subtle shift in his posture that he wasn’t exactly comfortable with the situation. You quickly shot him an apologetic look, trying to keep things as casual as possible. “Isn't it obvious — I’m with Law,” you said with a playful shrug, hoping your tone would deflect any suspicion and begging to whatever higher power that Usopp won't blow your cover.

Usopp blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief, as if you’d just dropped a bombshell. “With Law?!” His voice jumped an octave, loud enough to draw even more attention, and you felt the heat of a dozen curious stares. Your stomach churned as the pressure mounted.

“Well yeah, we’re dating,” you said quickly, trying to offer him a pointed look that screamed for him to lower his voice. You didn’t look forward to clearing that lie later, though.

“What?!” Usopp exclaimed again, louder this time, and you fought the urge to physically drag him into a quieter corner.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, don't be so loud,” you hissed, your smile strained as you resisted the urge to clamp a hand over his mouth. You just needed him to stop.

Your words earned a sharp glance from Law, who was now standing as still as a statue, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with irritation. Though his face remained unreadable to most, you could detect the flicker of unease behind his usually impenetrable demeanor.

Usopp sharp eye for detail and relentless curiosity meant he was undoubtedly piecing things together in real-time, and the last thing you needed was for him to say something he really shouldn't.

Kaya, sensing the tension, stepped in smoothly. “Usopp,” she said, with a small but knowing smile, “maybe we should let them enjoy the night.” She gently nudged his arm, giving you an apologetic look. “It’s good to see you both. I hope you’re having a good time tonight.”

You smiled, grateful for her presence. “We’re managing,” you replied before gesturing toward her. “And you? How’s the night treating you so far?”

She laughed. “Oh, it’s been lovely. Usopp keeps insisting he’s the best plus-one anyone could ask for.”

“Because I am!” Usopp interjected, puffing out his chest.

“Nah, I'm way better, right, darling?” you asked playfully, turning to your date.

Law let out a quiet, measured sigh, his eyes narrowing at Usopp, who was still watching far too intently for comfort. Recognizing that all eyes were now firmly on the two of you, he shifted gears seamlessly.

Without missing a beat, he slid an arm around your waist and pulled you a fraction closer. His hand rested lightly yet possessively against your side as he glanced down at you with a smirk. “Obviously.”

The gesture—and his confident tone—left Usopp momentarily speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Even Kaya seemed surprised, her eyes darting between the two of you before a knowing smile tugged at her lips.

You couldn’t help but smile, both at Law’s quick thinking and the way his response seemed to silence any further speculation from Usopp. “See?” you teased lightly, shooting Usopp a pointed look. “Told you.”

Usopp opened his mouth, ready to say something outrageous, but Kaya quickly stepped in, tugging on his arm with a bright laugh. “Come on, Usopp. Let’s grab some appetizers.”

“This isn’t over,” he commented, but he allowed Kaya to steer him toward the other end of the room. You gave her a grateful smile.

“That was close,” you muttered, glancing up at Law. His hand was still resting lightly on your waist.

He tilted his head down toward you, “You call that close?”

“Oh, come on,” you whispered back with a grin. “You’ve got to admit, Usopp almost blew it.”

Law’s lips quirked upward in a barely-there smirk. “Almost,” he conceded. Then, lowering his voice even more and murmuring into your ear, he added, “But I don’t mind setting the record straight when needed.”

The way his voice dipped sent a small shiver down your spine, but you quickly composed yourself, stepping slightly closer to him under the pretense of hearing him better.

“Well, you handled it like a pro, Dr. Trafalgar,” you teased softly, leaning just enough to let your words reach his ear.

“Hmm,” he hummed noncommittally.

Before you could respond, the event coordinator’s voice echoed through the hall, announcing the upcoming speeches. The room shifted as the crowd began to find their seats, murmurs of anticipation filling the air.

“You’re up soon,” you reminded him. Reaching out, you placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this,” you said confidently.

He glanced at you, his eyes locking onto yours for a beat, searching for something—maybe reassurance, maybe just the comfort of familiarity—before he nodded, a small but grateful gesture. “Thanks.”

As he made his way toward the stage, you couldn’t help but watch him with a sense of pride, your heart swelling with admiration. Even surrounded by the polished elegance of the event and the watchful eyes of so many people, he carried himself with an unshakable determination.

When he reached the podium, the crowd fell silent. He cleared his throat, taking a moment before launching into the speech. He spoke about the advancements in medicine, the importance of community support, and the life-changing surgeries that the hospital’s team performed. But when he mentioned his team and thanked everyone for their hard work, his gaze subtly flickered toward you.

For a moment, he dropped the cold exterior. “None of this would be possible without the support of everyone here,” he said. “And a special thanks to my friends and…my better half, who has been my constant rock. It’s easy to get lost in the hospital. But she keeps me grounded.”

The sincerity in his words was unmistakable. His eyes lingered on you for a fraction of a second—long enough for you to feel the weight of his gratitude—before he looked away, the professional composure sliding back into place effortlessly.

The applause that followed was thunderous, but you barely heard it over the warmth blooming in your chest. As Law stepped down from the podium, his expression was back to its usual stoicism, but the slight flush to his cheeks and the quick glance he shot your way told you everything.

As the applause slowly died down, Law made his way back toward you, weaving through the clusters of guests who offered him brief nods and congratulatory remarks. His posture was relaxed, but you could see the faint tension in the set of his shoulders—a clear sign that he was bracing for your inevitable teasing.

When he finally reached you, you wasted no time, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “For someone who wanted to ‘get through the night,’ you sure know how to captivate an audience,” you teased. “And what was that about ‘the one who keeps me grounded’? Are you getting sentimental on me?”

He stopped in front of you, hands sliding casually into his pockets as his eyes met yours. “Don’t start,” he muttered, though there was no real bite in his tone. “I said what needed to be said.”

“Oh, I see,” you replied, crossing your arms and tilting your head. “So, I’m just ‘what needed to be said’ now?”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in a little, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “If you’d prefer, I can take it all back.”

“Not a chance,” you shot back, unable to keep the playful edge out of your voice. “It’s on record now. Everyone here knows I’m the one keeping you grounded.”

Before he could respond, Shachi and Penguin appeared, clearly having caught at least part of the exchange. Shachi was grinning ear to ear, while Penguin’s expression held a more subdued amusement.

“That speech was something else,” Shachi said, clapping Law on the back with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Especially that part about being grounded. You’re getting soft.”

Law’s glare shifted to Shachi, though it lacked any real venom. “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?” he asked, his voice dry.

“Not when you’re providing this much entertainment,” Shachi shot back without missing a beat.

Law rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. Instead, he turned his attention back to you. “Are you enjoying yourself yet?” he asked

You pretended to consider his question, tapping a finger to your chin. “Hmm... between the impromptu Usopp interrogation, the surprise shout-out during your speech, and Shachi’s relentless commentary?” You grinned. “Yeah, I’d say I’m having a great time.”

Law’s exhale was sharp, but his lips twitched upward in a reluctant smile. “Good,” he sighed. “At least one of us is.”

Just as you were forming your response, the event coordinator approached the two of you with a bright smile. “Dr. Trafalgar, your presence is requested for some photos with the donors,” she said, her gaze flicking to you briefly. “And, of course, your lovely girlfriend is welcome to join.”

Law hesitated, his eyes narrowing. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he weighed the pros and cons of dragging you into yet another spotlight moment.

You decided to save him the trouble. “We’d be happy to,” you said smoothly, looping your arm through his. “Right, darling?”

The look he shot you was nothing short of murderous, but you only smiled sweetly, patting his arm as the coordinator led you both toward the photographer’s setup.

After the photos, you wandered back to the main room, weaving through the crowd. You spotted Usopp and Kaya near the dessert table, Usopp animatedly telling a story while Kaya giggled beside him. Heart-shaped chocolates and delicate pastries adorned the table, and you decided to grab a couple of treats before heading back to your corner of the room.

“Here,” you said, holding out a piece of chocolate to Law as you both settled near the bar.

He eyed it skeptically. “What’s this?”

“Chocolate,” you replied, popping one into your mouth. “It’s Valentine’s Day. You’re supposed to eat chocolate. It’s practically a rule.”

Law sighed, but he took the chocolate from your hand, his fingers brushing yours briefly in the exchange. He bit into it. “It’s good,” he admitted after a moment.

You smirked. “See? Valentine’s Day isn’t all bad.”

He gave you a sidelong glance. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

You just grinned wider and shrugged. Despite the occasional hiccup—like Usopp’s not-so-subtle attempts to sneak more information out of you—it was hard to deny that you and Law actually did have a great time. The whole evening felt surprisingly natural, even with the added touches and pet names that came with playing your part.

But as the night went on, the carefully constructed charade began to blur, leaving you to wonder if there was something genuine simmering beneath the surface. A fleeting warmth in the way he looked at you, a brush of his hand that lingered just a moment too long. You quickly shook the thought away before it could root itself further.

“You know,” you started, breaking the silence, “Usopp already texted everyone the news.”

Law’s brow furrowed as he glanced at you. “What news?”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look.

“Oh. Right,” he said, the realization dawning on his face.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, crossing your arms. “I had to turn my sound off completely—the group chat went insane.”

Law let out a quiet groan and reached for his phone, pulling it from his pocket with a resigned air. He turned the phone toward you, revealing a string of increasingly enthusiastic messages from Luffy:

This is amaizing!!!!

I'M SO HAPPY!!!

GOOD FOR YOU!!!

WHEN DID THIS HAPEN??

Tell me evrything RIGHT NOW!!!

You burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as you read the flood of texts. Law pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about how ridiculous Luffy was, but the small, reluctant smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

“Looks like someone’s excited for us,” you teased, still laughing.

Law rolled his eyes, though the faintest trace of a blush colored his cheeks. “Luffy’s always excited about something. This’ll blow over. We will explain it later or something.”

You swallowed your disappointment and tried to focus on anything other than the fact that today was not as real as it seemed. Your eyes drifted forward just as the band started playing a slow, romantic tune, and couples began rushing toward the dance floor. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down, the atmosphere practically begging for you to make a move.

“Well, darling,” you said, extending your hand toward him with an exaggerated flourish. “Care to dance?”

Law stared at you, his expression caught somewhere between incredulous and amused. “You’re joking.”

“Not even a little,” you wiggled your fingers at him. “It’s Valentine’s Day. What’s a fake relationship without a dance under the romantic lighting?”

He let out a quiet groan but took your hand anyway, his grip firm and steady. As he led you to the dance floor, you couldn’t help but marvel at how natural it felt.

For a moment, you both moved hesitantly, as if testing the waters. Law wasn’t one to engage in things like this—public displays of affection, no matter how fake, didn’t exactly come naturally to him. Yet, as the rhythm of the music settled between you, his movements became smoother, more confident. You matched his pace, the two of you falling into an unspoken synchrony.

“You’re better at this than I expected,” you murmured, glancing up at him.

“Don’t get used to it,” he replied, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “This isn’t exactly my idea of a great time.”

You chuckled, your fingers instinctively tightening their grip on his shoulder. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re surprisingly good at this.”

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Surprisingly?”

“Well,” you said with a smirk, “you don’t exactly scream ‘slow-dance enthusiast.’

Law huffed, but there was no real irritation behind it. He was paying more attention to the way your body moved in sync with his, the way you shifted your weight with each step.

The scent of his cologne was subtle but intoxicating, and the way his eyes stayed locked on yours made it impossible to look away.

“This isn’t so bad,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one,” you said, your thumb gently brushing the fabric of his suit jacket. “I know this isn’t exactly your scene. Thanks for humoring me.”

For a moment, something shifted in his expression. The guardedness that usually defined him seemed to waver, replaced by something more vulnerable, something unspoken. His grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling you closer, and the distance between you narrowed until you could feel the faint brush of his chest against yours.

“You’re doing all of this for me, the least I can do is survive dancing for your sake,” he answered in his usual manner, and yet, it sounded somehow warmer. Then he added teasingly, “darling”

You tried to diminish how much you loved that nickname coming from his lips.

As the music faded, applause broke out around the room, snapping you back to reality. Law stepped back a little, his hand falling away from your waist, but the warmth of his touch stayed. He looked at you for a moment longer, his gaze searching, before he cleared his throat and glanced away, the mask of composure slipping back into place.

“Let’s get off the dance floor,” he said, his tone returning to its usual cool detachment. But there was a faint flush to his cheeks that you couldn’t ignore.

“Not bad for someone who doesn’t like Valentine’s Day,” you teased, keeping your tone light, even though your heartbeat had quickened as you followed him off the dancefloor.

Law smirked faintly, his amber eyes locking onto yours. “I never said I didn’t like it. Just that it’s… unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary?” You arched a brow, tilting your head. “Celebrating love and connection? That sounds pretty necessary to me.”

His grin grew. “If you need a commercial holiday to remind you of that, you’re doing something wrong.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his bluntness. “Touché,” you admitted, the moment feeling strangely intimate despite the dozens of other couples around you. He put his hand on your back and gently led you to sit down in the corner. You sat in silence for a moment before speaking again.

“So, are you enjoying the night yet? Or are you still counting down the minutes until it’s over?”

Law let out a quiet chuckle. “I’m surviving,” he replied dryly, though the corners of his lips twitched as though he couldn’t fully keep the amusement from showing. “If I’m being honest, it’s… not as bad as I thought it would be,” he looked sheepish as he added. “Your presence makes it more bearable.”

A warmth blossomed in your chest at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in slightly, your cheek brushing his shoulder. You felt him stiffen for a split second, but then he relaxed, putting his head on yours.

��I didn’t think I’d be… enjoying it,” he continued, his fingers brushing through your hair as if absentmindedly. “But I think I might’ve been wrong.”

You lifted your head just enough to look at him, finding his gaze already locked on yours. There was no mask of indifference now—just a rare moment of vulnerability, one that you hadn’t often seen. It was disarming. His hand gently cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers.

Your heart fluttered unexpectedly, and you were unsure of what to say, or even if you should say anything at all. The quiet, unspoken understanding between you was enough.

“Well, well, well! Look at you two, all cozy!”

It was Shachi, followed closely by Penguin, and some other colleagues of Law from the hospital. You froze for a split second, pulling away from Law just as his hand dropped from your cheek. Both of you turned toward the intruder, finding a group of Law’s colleagues standing a few feet away.

One of the surgeons, a tall man with a broad grin, chuckled as he shook his head. “Honestly, Law, I didn’t think you were the type to be so… affectionate.”

Law’s face immediately shifted to that calm, composed mask he wore so well, but you could see the hint of a blush creeping up his neck. He scoffed. “What did you expect? For me to keep five feet away from someone I care about?”

“We’re just surprised,” the nurse you spoke with first today, smiled softly at the two of you. “But it’s nice to see you so… relaxed. We don’t usually get to see this side of you.” Her tone wasn’t mocking; instead, it held a kind, almost approving quality.

It was clear that they all weren’t just teasing for the sake of teasing—they were happy to see him like this. This side of Law, the one who didn’t always hide behind his usual walls, was a rare sight for most people.

“I guess there’s a first time for everything,” Law muttered, trying to keep the situation under control while simultaneously not looking entirely displeased.

As if they couldn’t resist, one of the younger doctors, a woman with long hair and a sly smile, smirked at you and asked, “So, come on, how did you two get together? Law didn’t want to say a word about it.” His grin widened as he leaned in, waiting for some kind of juicy story.

You chuckled, glancing at Law, who raised an eyebrow at you as if daring you to come up with an appropriate response.

“Of course he didn’t.” You nudged him playfully. “He’s never been the type to spill the details, has he?”

Shachi smirked knowingly. “Come on, Law,” he prodded. “We’re dying to know the real story.”

“Well,” you interjected, grinning as you looked at the group. “If you're looking for something juicy, I’m afraid I have to disappoint. We were just good friends for quite a while before it just clicked that there’s more and there’s no running from it. So, with a kiss, we sealed the deal, and are together just like that.” It seemed like a story that could be real, that would suit you both, and what kind of people you are together.

“That’s actually a pretty decent story, considering how tight-lipped you’ve been, Law,” he remarked.

Law shot him a sidelong glance. “I’m not in the habit of sharing my private life with everyone.”

The woman with long hair, delighted by the revelation, nudged Shachi playfully. “Well, it’s good to know Law isn’t entirely immune to matters of the heart. Who knew?” she said with a wink, enjoying the rare opportunity to see her usually composed colleague looking so flustered.

“I never said I was,” Law replied, though there was a faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth now.

You smiled at him, savoring the fact that, despite his usual reticence, he hadn’t shut down the conversation.

“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way,” you turned to the group, “any more questions?

“Not if you want to keep your secrets,” Shachi teased. “I think we’ve learned enough for tonight.”

“Although…” Penguin started to say with a mischievous grin

“Alright, alright,” Law interjected, probably scared that more question may blow your cover. “You’ve had your fun.”

The playful banter continued for a few more moments, with the group lightheartedly poking fun at Law, but without pushing too far. It was clear they were genuinely enjoying seeing him in a different light. Even you couldn't help but smile at how the evening had turned out.

“Alright,” you said, nudging Law lightly with your elbow, “I think we’ve officially survived the interrogation. How about we grab some drinks and escape before they start asking for our love story in full detail?” you whispered.

“Fine by me,” he stated, standing up and offering you a hand. “Excuse us for a moment.”

You took his hand, your fingers curling around his with ease. He led you both to the bar and ordered your drinks. When you took them, you found seats nearby.

“They have a point, you know,” you commented, leaning back in your seat, sipping your drink as you shot him a teasing glance. “You’re surprisingly sweet with me.”

Law shot you a look, but his lips twitched upward in the barest hint of a smile. “Don’t start,” he warned, though there was no bite to his words.

“I’m just saying, the way you act tonight—” you paused, letting the words linger in the air, “it’s… kind of adorable.”

“You’re walking a fine line,” he murmured, his tone just low enough that only you could hear, and there was that familiar spark of challenge in it.

You grinned. “I think the real question is, why do you make it so easy for me to tease you?” You leaned back again, propping your elbow on the armrest, your eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Maybe I’m onto something.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have a stronger reaction to you, or I’d make sure you regret that.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the hint of seriousness in his voice. “Oh? Is that a threat, Law?” you asked, half-challenging, half-curious.

He leaned in just slightly, his gaze softening but still intense. “Only if you push your luck too far,” he replied. It was supposed to be a warning, and yet it sounded way…warmer. You felt the air shift between you, the playful tone fading into something more subtle.

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter from across the room caught your attention, and you noticed some of Law’s colleagues still milling about, their eyes frequently darting toward the two of you. They probably thought their glances were subtle, but they really weren’t.

“Wanna bet they’re talking about us?”

Law smirked, his gaze flicking toward the group before returning to you. “I’m not betting against something that is 100% true.”

You chuckled, lifting your drink to your lips as you watched them huddle together in hushed conversation, clearly intrigued by the dynamic between the two of you. The whole thing was both amusing and oddly satisfying, considering how little effort you'd actually put into keeping this charade together.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence with a light tone, “what now? Do we stick around and continue surviving this ‘unnecessary’ holiday, or do we make our grand exit?”

“I think we’ve done enough, surviving for one night,” he declared, standing and offering his hand to you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

You took his hand, your fingers wrapping around his with the familiar ease. “I like the sound of that.”

As you made your way toward the exit, you said your goodbyes to everyone, your eyes catching a few lingering, amused glances from Law's colleagues.

“Well, I think we’ve both survived tonight, haven’t we?” you asked, glancing up at him with a teasing look, trying to gauge his mood as you stepped outside.

His gaze softened, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I suppose we have,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Though, I’m not sure what’s worse—the questions or your teasing.”

You laughed lightly, squeezing his hand gently. “I think you can handle both.”

“Apparently,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a gesture that was almost imperceptible but undeniably intimate.

Instead of calling for a taxi, Law started leading you toward the nearby park. You certainly didn’t mind the extra time with him—after the whirlwind of the evening, the peaceful solitude of the park felt like a perfect escape.

When you reached a bench by a small pond, Law sat down, and you followed suit, the two of you settling next to each other. For a few moments, neither of you said anything. It felt like the perfect continuation of the night—no more questions, no more performances, just the two of you.

“Thank you.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected gratitude in his tone. “You're welcome,” you replied easily, your lips curving into a small smile. “I had fun.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” you answered, your smile widening a little. “Did you?”

“I did actually.”

“Good” you said simply. “You know now that they’ll just bother and tease you about me, right?” you added teasingly after a moment.

He gave you a side-glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but his gaze softened as it lingered on you. “I can survive that.”

You sat in silence, the quiet comfortable, with your hand still intertwined with his, even though there was no one around that you had to pretend for.

After a while, Law spoke quietly, “That story…

“Huh?” You blinked, trying to recall what he might be referring to.

“About how we apparently came to be… you made it quite believable.” You suddenly remembered your words from earlier: We were just good friends for quite a while before it just clicked that there’s more and there’s no running from it. So, with a kiss, we sealed the deal, and are together just like that.

“Well…um, it sounded plausible, did it not?” you said, as you tried to brush off the nerves creeping up.

“It did.” Silence fell again, but this time, it felt different. You wrecked your head as to what to say. You looked at him, hoping for something to break the tension, and found his gaze already focused on you. The intensity of it made it harder to find the right words.

But you didn’t have to say anything—his lips found yours in a tender kiss, slow and gentle, as if testing the waters for something deeper. The world around you seemed to fade away as you leaned into the kiss, your fingers threading through his hair. The moment felt suspended in time, perfect in its simplicity.

When he finally pulled back, his hand still resting against your cheek, you noticed a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was the kind of smile that made your chest tighten, the kind that carried a quiet promise, and the warmth that spread through you was more than just the remnants of the kiss.

“Well, that solidifies that it was all true.”

You heard the familiar voice of Usopp. The sudden intrusion snapped you out of the trance the moment had put you in.

You rolled your eyes, not even glancing in his direction, your focus remaining entirely on Law. “Get lost, Nose-ya. Now,” Law muttered, his voice stern, his gaze unwavering from yours.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” Usopp chuckled, but you weren’t about to let him ruin your moment, not when it felt so real, so raw. You kept your focus on Law, and for a few seconds, there was just the two of you again, the world falling away once more.

“So, is my story true then?” you asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, his voice steady but carrying that quiet confidence you’d grown accustomed to.

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Can’t believe it happened on Valentine’s Day, after pretending to date for an event.”

“Maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all,” he said, the words almost an afterthought. And you couldn’t help but agree as you tugged him closer, your lips finding his in a kiss that was even more intense than the first.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, you looked into his eyes, and something settled in your chest—this was just the beginning of something, something you both weren’t willing to let go of. It was there in the way he looked at you, the way he held you close. You could feel it in your bones that whatever this was, it was real. And it was only just starting.

“Maybe you’re right,” you whispered, your thumb gently brushing over his hand. “Valentine’s Day might not be so bad… when it ends like this.”

He smirked at you. “We’ll see if you still feel that way next year,” he said, the challenge in his voice playful, but there was no mistaking the certainty in his words.

“You wanna fake-date me for Valentine’s Day next year too?”

His expression softened, the usual sharpness in his gaze replaced by something more tender as his hand brushed gently across your cheek. “No,” he responded quietly, his voice warm and sincere. “I want to be with you—for real.”

#onepiece #one piece fic #trafalgar law #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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cheralith · 1 day ago

Text

my serendipity ₊˚⊹♡

— promise yourself to him, and he'll love you forever tenfold. or... the blue lock boys and their proposals to you.

starring ; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser content warnings ; gn!reader, reader wears a skirt (bachira), cursing (shidou/kaiser), reader wears a dress and heels (kaiser), lowk ooc shidou, mildly ooc kaiser, not fully edited as of 02/15 a/n ; happy late valentine's day everyone and a happy birthday to me hehe! i hope i'm not late by a mere day, but this is both my valentine's day event and my birthday gift from me to you all, so i hope that alongside this, you're surrounded by nothing but tender loving care amidst the season of love ( •◡-)-♡! there's also a collection of some of my favorite love songs i've added under each of the names that i think fit them/their scene, so take a listen for a more immersive experience, so enjoy!

— love, isagi yoichi.

The freshness of the meadow's air was an atmosphere you think you can breathe in forever, for it was so much more pristine and clear than the air you were used to in the city. The setting sun overviews the seaside town that you and your boyfriend took the pleasure of visiting as a treat for you both since he was currently off season and you decided to make the most out of what you could do. It was a scene straight out of a painting, you think to yourself, as yellows and oranges paint the sky overhead, a sliver of iris beginning to take over as twilight sets.

The little town below you hustles and bustles about, its townspeople fluttering over to wrap up the seemingly mundane day. You're a little envious that they get to see such a beautiful sight like this everyday and get to breathe in fresh air without the mayhem of cars and salarymen scattering themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in the cooling spring air of the meadow, letting yourself linger amidst the peaceful atmosphere of the countryside.

You'll miss this. The peace and placidity of a place like this. You dream of retiring to a cottage somewhere similar to here, somewhere where the grass is greener and the sky is bluer. You think it'd do you some good.

"I think some wine would pair well with your daydreaming," a voice says playfully.

Opening your eyes, you see your companion holding a bottle of wine in his hands, gentle eyes softening at your serenity. Yoichi is glad he brought you here, knowing that you needed a break from city life to just simply get away to the tranquility of the countryside. The change in you was more than evident—the stiffness in your body was long gone upon arrival and you were much more laxed when it came to last minute changes on the itinerary. It was rare he saw this side of you, so he savored it with every moment he was able to get.

Smiling gently at your boyfriend, you nod and let him pour two glasses of white wine into the glasses you and him had brought for this picnic.

"How're the sandwiches?" Yoichi asks, handing you your glass. "I bought them at this local diner nearby the hotel, so I hope they're okay."

"I really was never much of a bologna fan until now," you say as you pick up your half-eaten sandwich and hold it out for him to take a nibble. "It's a little salty, but I like it."

"I'm glad," he affirms through chews before he hums in approval. "Did you try the charcuterie board yet? This place is known for their cheeses."

You shake your head. Yoichi grins and eagerly begins to throw together a cheese-and-cracker creation, topped off with a bit of crumbled nuts. He gently cups his hand underneath the one holding the stack and motions for you to come forward.

Biting gently and letting his hand catch the crumbs, you giggle when you thoughtfully chew on the combinations as Yoichi throws the extra crumbs in his mouth to not let anything go to waste.

"Hey! This was pricey," he claims, "I'm sure half a cracker cost one hundred yen each..."

You fight the urge to spit out your food at his exaggeration. Yoichi may be a world class soccer player, with the mere mention of his name lighting peoples' faces with pride as the ace of one of Japan's soccer teams, but despite his hefty salary, there was still that semi-frugal middle class boy who still debated in buying a yogurt drink or ice cream whenever you and him stopped by a convenience store—never mind the fact that he could buy fifty of each in one sitting.

His humbleness, however, is what made you so drawn to him in the first place. He knew, you knew, and everyone knew of his great skill and play on the field, but in interviews, he was always one to scratch his neck and say "I just did what I could, really..." post-games. Yoichi never let the fame get to his head, and his ability to stay so grounded to earth made you filled with love solely for him and him alone.

The mix of the sweetness of the cheese and the saltiness of the cracker blend beautifully together on your tongue. You mimic his actions from before and give a hum and nod with approval at your boyfriend's taste.

There's a few other assortments of food that you and him have collected prior to the picnic—some fresh fruit you had bought and cut from the farmer's market, a small pasta bowl made by Yoichi himself, little quiches you had grabbed from one of the bakeries, and a strange white box that peeks itself out of the picnic basket that you have yet to open that was brought by Yoichi.

Gently clinking your glasses together, the wine that goes down your throat feels just as mellow as the atmosphere that hugs you and your boyfriend. Everything feels just so perfect right now, you could bathe yourself in such contentment.

Some conversations float by between you and Yoichi, breezy and effortless for sometime as the sun slowly sets itself into the mountains. Talks about work, about his recent plays (you laugh out loud whenever his anger gets the best of him and a short fuse of cusses spit out from him when he talks about specific players' plays, throwing a stray at one of his teammates), about the latest gossips, everything that just comes naturally to you. There was no need for a filter whenever Yoichi was with you. His judgement barely shone through when you were around.

He finishes the last of his wine rather quickly. Yoichi places it down gently and grabs your hands in his own. "I have a surprise for you."

A brow raises as your lips curl. "Oh?"

"Wait here, yeah?" Yoichi asks as grabs the picnic basket and places it in front of you. "I have to go grab something from the car. Why don't you prepare the cake in the meantime, hm? Maybe do some cleanup with the food, too, since it's getting late."

"Oh so that's what's inside the box," you murmur.

"Uh huh, I had it specially made for us," he says with a pinch of excitement in his voice. Yoichi gathers up a few of the plates and juts them in your hands, a wobbly smile upon his face as he gets up and dusts himself off, beginning to jog off in the direction of the parking lot. "I'll be right back!"

You blink at his hastiness, a little out of character for him, but shrug as you return back to your original position facing the coastal town and sunset. You're glad he tasked you with cleaning up the leftovers, since you've grown accustomed to Yoichi's occasional messiness and clumsiness when it came to handling food. There was one time during a friend's dinner party that he dropped the pot roast in front of everyone, meat going everywhere to Bachira's delight and to Barou's disdain. You also grow a little weary whenever he's around ceramic, since he's broken quite a few bowls and plates without much effort since Yoichi doesn't seem to have a grasp of his own strength whenever he washes the dishes.

You shake your head at the memories, quietly laughing to yourself when you remember Barou forcing him to mop his apartment floor from the remnants of the meat as a punishment. Barou still invites you over to his house during group events, but you often have to plead with him to invite your boyfriend, now used to the pulled face he makes or the curse of "Is the donkey really necessary to bring?" through the phone.

Tenderly, you open the picnic basket and carefully take out the white cake box to put it on the blanket. You go to prepare two plates together for the cake and take the cake cutter out of the basket, ready for slicing. Your fingers gently tug at the delicate silk ribbon right before you open the lid.

Your heart skips a beat.

It's a simple white vanilla cake shaped into a heart. Its framed with pale pink frosting on its side, as well as a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries placed in some places of the framing. But it's not the design of the cake that captures you.

It's what's written on it.

Four words written in delicate cursive so clearly and distinctly that it's hard to miss.

Will you marry me?

Your breath hitches as you read it with glazed eyes, your head whipping around to call Yoichi over, thinking perhaps he grabbed the wrong cake by accident from the cake shop, but your doubts suddenly dissipate when you're faced with Yoichi on one knee before you...

... with a velvet box in hand, a glimmering ring ready for you tucked carefully within it.

Words falter, and you can only stare at him in astonishment as he smiles at you, his lips still a little crooked in apprehension.

He bites his lip, grin growing a little wider as tears brim your eyes.

"Well?"

— with all my heart, bachira meguru.

"Meguru, that's cheating!"

"Since when where there rules to tag?!"

You huff in annoyance as your boyfriend hops off the railing of the staircase he just slid down from as his hand grazed your back to indicate you were "it" again.

You can feel some of the stares of the security guards that were left to babysit you and him as you dash your way down the staircase to chase after your boyfriend through the empty halls of the museum he had cleared out for you and him this evening. That's one of the many pros of being a professional soccer player—that anything can be bent at someone's will with a mere slide of stacks of cash. And Meguru had decided to use his own gain to entertain you and him.

By playing a game of tag between the two of you in amidst the massive art museum.

He claimed it was the perfect foundation for it; pillars to hide behind, a maze of rooms to obscure the tail that one may have on another, wide halls to run around in. For Bachira Meguru, this was the perfect battleground besides the turf of a soccer field. You suppose it also came from his early love of art due to his mother being a painter, with some of her collections even being shown for the season in one of the halls.

Anyone else of your ages would think such an activity was foolish. To an extent, yes, they were right. You and Meguru were both adults with adult responsibilities and adult lives... but you only live once and you and him lived by the philosophy to live it to the fullest. Childish whimsies came more often to you and your boyfriend, and that was the gravitational pull that drew you and him together to blossom a relationship filled with surprises and spontaneity. You felt unbelievably alive with him.

He'd call you in the middle of the night, asking you if you want to skinny dip in the nearby beach with him. He'd stop the car in the middle of a busy road as the view of an amusement park came closer, snatching your arm and tugging you out of it to run to its entrance. He'd show up at your door with concert tickets in hand unprompted, jutting one in your hand and telling you to get ready.

Bachira Meguru was a lightening bolt, sparking energy everywhere unsolicited. And you were more than happy to be struck over again and again if it meant you felt alive.

So now you're here. It's near midnight, and you're sure you and him have scattered almost all the interior terrain of the museum he cleared out in your game of tag that he brought up to you yesterday evening out of nowhere, telling you to dress nice, but to wear running shoes.

Meguru poked his head out from behind a wall that lead to the other room, giggling as you whip your head a few times to catch where he went before you spot his bright canary yellow eyes and run after him.

You weave through the plethora of statues that sprinkle about the corridor, sprinting after the flash of brown and yellow hair in front of you. It shouldn't be fair that you're currently chasing down a professional soccer player who clearly has the upper hand, but in all honesty, you think the challenge makes it all the more fun.

Stopping to catch your breath, you hunch down for a bit, gathering your skirt in your hands to reveal the worn-out running shoes you wear that contrast heavily to the outfit you're wearing as you collect your energy.

"Don't tell me you're tired already," Meguru sings out, his voice rather close.

You lift your head up to see your boyfriend standing just a few meters in front of you, leaning on a pillar of a statue with a cocky smile, arms crossed as if this was the easiest thing in the world. There wasn't even a sheen of sweat on his forehead, unlike your misted one. Your chest heaves for a few moments, and he watches anticipatingly as you collect yourself before you take a swipe at him.

Meguru jumps back just in time, laughter ringing out as you gather up your speed and sprint. You manage to turn a corner that's shared with the hallway he had just turned on and take a shortcut, waiting behind the open wall before you jump out and tap his shoulder.

"Gotcha," you grin as he gasps in delight and looks back at you, mischief ever so clear in his face.

You attempt to muffle your many fits of giggles when you come up with a plan to try and escape him. There's two choices that unfold before you—either you can run up the flight of stairs into the Greek artifacts or you can enter into the inner garden.

With not much time left, you can hear his quickening footsteps growing louder and louder, and you go for the latter.

Your feet carry you into the dark garden, making you squint your eyes to get a proper view of where you're going, but you see a sheen of light the closer you get to the center of it. Deciding that might be where the common area is, you quickly dart towards it but gasp when the entirety of it comes into full view.

Candles light up the middle area of the garden with rose petals sprinkled about the ground. A large balloon arch of white and gold arcs over what seems to be small semi-circle of little flower bouquets with a small white rug placed delicately in the middle of it all. There's two words that spell themselves out in blocky letter lights.

MARRY ME?

It takes you awhile to register the scene before you, your heart thrumming faster and faster each time you scan it.

"Aw man, you found it too early..." Meguru's voice sulks from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you yelp at your boyfriend's sudden appearance, making him grin. You think you need to take a pause from all the excitement you've been absorbed in for the past few hours, a new one being blossomed at this very moment.

There truly was never a dull moment with Bachira Meguru.

Wordlessly, his smile turns less playful and more tender when you can't find the words to say. He takes your hand in his own grasp and gently leads you to the scene before you, getting down on one knee and pulling out a small box from his back pocket.

"(L/N) (Y/N)," Meguru starts slowly, his voice displaying the utmost sincerety he's able to muster and possibly the most serious you've ever seen him. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me and being with me for the rest of our lives?"

With someone as special and as enigmatic as Meguru, it really doesn't take you much debating to choose your answer. Someone like this only comes once in a lifetime, and you decide to cherish it as much as you can in this one.

You only live once after all.

You nod, whispering a "Yes..."

Meguru's smile stretches wide before he shouts out in happiness, jumping in the air. You laugh loudly at his antics before he plucks out the ring and puts it on your finger, letting you admire it before sharing a loving kiss. The security guards that oversee the garden let out claps of celebration and a couple of shouts of approval, making you and him laugh at the accidental audience.

Meguru goes to wipe away a fallen tear from your cheek before kissing your forehead gently. He suddenly goes near your ear and whispers,

"This still means you're 'it', by the way."

— sincerely yours, itoshi rin.

Rin always thought he was meant to be alone.

His own parents tended more of their attention to Sae, and Sae himself left Rin to his own devices when Rin was only eleven, just barely hatching into puberty. Much of life Rin had to learn the harder way, where he had no forewarnings from anyone and he had to be taught his own lessons. It was his own self-discipline that got him through much of his younger years that made him so sustainable solely by his own foundations.

Even during games, he tended to lean on his own instincts on what he thought was best rather than relying on his teammates for the best play possible. If it were legible, Rin would've taken an opportunity to play 1v11 in a match since he carried the majority of his teams anyway with his prodigal skills.

He thrived best in an isolated environment anyway. And Rin felt okay with it. No person is forever anyways, not even his own blood.

Until you came along.

It was in his second year during college. It was you and your stupid owl keychain on your stupid backpack that accidentally let out your stupid second volume of Ciguatera right in front of him. It was the stupid way how his hands lingered on the book just a little more than he should've. It was the stupid way that his eyes always gravitated to you during lectures. It was the stupid way that you and him were assigned as partners for a project. It was the stupid way your eyes lit up when you found out he played soccer.

It was the stupid way he felt able to breathe the air much more comfortable around you the more he spent time with you. It was the stupid way the days felt duller when he didn't see you on campus. It was the stupid way his heart fluttered when you laughed, when you smiled, when you said his name.

It was all so... stupid.

A feeling he never felt before had been born from your existence. Itoshi Rin usually had a pretty solid grasp on things he could control, but he didn't know how to handle such a feeling of affection because he hadn't ever felt it before, and it felt too slippery to try and get a firm grip of. You shook his core, and Rin hated it because only one other person in his life was able to do such a thing.

Learning it was best to do so after his last lesson to keep himself safe, he attempted to push you away before his heart broke a second time. Yet somehow, Rin felt more drawn to your pull every time he tried to create space between you and him.

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Rin never really gave the feeling such thought in regards to you until he found himself dismal and in a grey area again without seeing your face at least once, but still ever so stubborn, he thought this was best. This is what he was used to—being alone.

"I don't have time for you anymore," he said to you one evening as he dropped you off at your dorm.

You had turned back to him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, but with a small smile still on your face. Without asking for a reason, you merely nodded. "I see. Well... goodbye then."

Rin tried to ignore the way his heart had clenched so tightly as he watched you disappear into your dorm hall without glancing back at him one more time.

But the lines blurred. It wasn't him being alone that he reclused himself to during your absence from his life... but rather loneliness. He was back to being lonely, not alone.

He had to go back to watching movies by himself, conversing with his own thoughts instead of another voice. He had to go back to eating meals by himself without having a foot nudge his own under a table. He had to go back and stop looking for a specific pair of bright eyes and a wishful smile in the stands during games.

He went back to a world of grey of his doing. All because he was terrified to let another person handle his own heart. And he was doing a good job at altering his life back to the way it was, until you did what you usually did best and butt in and splash color all over his monochromatic canvas again.

It was before an away game, in the common-area just before he boarded the coach bus. There, just before you turned the corner, he spotted you saying goodbye to someone, where you had accidentally made eye contact with turquoise eyes that seemed to shine for the first time in a long time at your appearance before him. He couldn't stop himself from staring, feeling relieved that you were still within his radius despite him being the one to create space.

You lingered there for a moment, before swallowing and mouthing to him with that stupid gentle, forgiving smile of yours,

"Good luck. Do well."

Rin sprinted off the bus the moment they were back on campus after winning by a landslide due to his off-the-wall playing. His feet carried him to your dorm, where he rapidly knocked on your door despite it being near midnight. You opened the door to him and despite hating it when people touched him, Rin had held you so tightly with hitched breaths, whispering "I'm sorry..." over and over again into your ear.

And came Itoshi Rin's first love, blossomed on a random Friday night.

His only love at that. He can't imagine the ring in his pocket being for anyone else.

A couple years older now, he walks alongside you on the beach that he used to ponder about whatnot on as he listens to you talk about the latest gossip at work. This is the rhythm of how your dynamic usually works—you talk, Rin listens. He likes it that way. It's an adequate balance.

The air is cooling now, now that autumn is approaching. You're huddled in a light jacket (Rin's, respectively), and gently warm your hands by rubbing them together to let the created friction emit some heat. Rin wordlessly grabs your hands and cups them together, embellishing a better warmth from his own breath instead of letting you do your own work.

Your eyes soften as you let him do his own antics, his own gaze coming to meet yours as his hands envelope yours and clasps them tightly to keep the heat trapped in your skin.

"Is that better?" he asks quietly, eyes looking for any sign of your approval.

You nod contently. "Mm hm."

"I told you to dress warm," he says, sighing, "next time, bring gloves."

You know Rin long enough to know such a tone of phrase isn't necessarily scolding you, but rather cautioning you out of genuine care. It wasn't his fault his voice had a natural cutting-edge tone, but you've grown accustomed to the little bits of adjustments he does to indicate he's not being cold.

The soft sand feels more pliable than usual. Perhaps it was the heavier layers you wear, but you find yourself sinking into it more easily. Rin helps stabilize you by gripping your hand in his own, noticing your imbalance.

"It's just a little further," he murmurs softly, a little shy when he squeezes your hand in his jacket pocket.

He was never able to quite fully get over his fluster around you. You made his head fill with cotton, his heart pound a little harder, whenever you were within his vicinity. Even after six years of being together as an official couple, he never was able to fully get over that high school crush feeling. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe it was meant to be that way. It was probably life's way of telling him that you were made to last for him, as only you were able to emit such a feeling for him when no one else could.

They say the average relationship lasts two years and three months. Yet somehow, Rin has never gotten over the feeling of falling in love with you since the moment he spotted you for the first time during a home game. It's been six years and ten months since that incident, and he figures that if such a feeling hasn't expired yet, it might never will.

The trail of candles suddenly appear before you to your surprise. The sand trail that it frames is the only part of the beach that is untouched by feet, as though it was waiting for you to imprint on it. On the other side of the trail lies a half-circular structure of individual white roses, all standing up right from the sand, along with blanket and a basket of wine and chocolates.

"Oh my," you mumble quietly, clearly taken aback at the rather romantic scene. While your boyfriend always did the most when it came to your dates, this was another level of sentimental. Be it the isolation from other people on the beach or the sunset horizon in the background, you feel a wave of solitude when Rin trails you down the path.

"This is rather new," you say to him suddenly, your eyes wide with worry. "Um, I didn't forget something big, did I? We celebrated your birthday... our anniversary isn't for another month..." you count down all the possible major events that you and Rin celebrated together as a couple on your fingers, but Rin shakes his head.

"No," he interjects. "This... i-is something completely different."

You blink owlishly and tilt your head, leaning your face closer to examine your boyfriend's blushed cheeks.

"Oh, are you proposing?" you ask inquisitively with a sparking coy smile, as if it was the plainest thing in the world.

Rin tends to be rather flat with his emotions, but he can't help but gawk when you guess correctly. He supposes his reaction gives his plans away, since you burst out laughing when a choked noise comes out of his throat.

"So I'm correct?" you ask through giggles.

"How'd you know?!" Rin asks, his blush now spreading rapidly on his face, the back of his neck absolutely burning with heat. Upset that all the plans he kept repeating to himself for the entire last three days was suddenly disrupted by you picking up context clues, he feels his ego crumbling before you, going back to square one where he'd feel that familiar flutter in his chest.

"Meguru told me a week ago when we all went to that one bar," you mention. "He had a little too much to drink and ended up accidentally spilling the beans."

A vein pops on Rin's forehead with avid irritation, jaw gritting as the phantom of a familiar bob-cut throws a peace sign in his mind. This is what's bound to happen when Rin asks for help on a major life event from the one person that can't keep his mouth shut even with a gun to his temple. But Bachira was the only person in the friend group that had been married so far to who was essentially his twin flame, meaning he was ultimately the last resort.

Rin thinks that he should've just asked someone on the street instead, now that it's clear his decision went awry.

Stupid shitty, fucking lukewarm bob-cut... Rin curses in his mind, a fire burning behind his eyes. Next time I see him, I'll—

"My answer is 'yes', by the way, Rin."

Rin's violent daydreams are suddenly broken when your voice cuts through. Your sweet, supple voice that's able to calm him down just by the sound of his name falling from his lips. Your superpower, he thinks.

He suddenly loosens his fist that he was making in his hand and looks at you. Clear, smiling eyes gaze at his wide ones with affirmation so distinctly held within them. All the tension he had been feeling up until this very moment instantaneously dissolves, running through his now-loosened fist like sand from the beach you and him are posted on.

He wants to grab your face and kiss you with as much strength he can muster. Wants to whisper sweet nothings and loving promises into lips he's tasted over and over again, yet just can't get enough of. Wants to hold you so tightly in his arms to the point where you meld into each other.

But, nevertheless, he holds himself back. There's still something he has to do.

"At least let me say the damn thing first," he mutters and finally gets down on one knee, his gaze never faltering against yours.

You giggle, nodding and letting him take one of your hands as his unoccupied one goes to fetch the ring box from his back pocket.

Rin was, and still is, not a man of many words. He says what he needs to say the moment he needs to say them. He feels as though he can't waste his time on incessant words, but this time, he feels as though four words can carry all the meaning he needs to convey.

He swallows thickly, presenting a luscious, glimmering ring at you, noticing the way your eyes become hypnotized with the specialized gem settled in the middle of the band.

"(Y/N)," Rin states, smoothing over your precious ring finger. "Will you marry me?

— forever yours, shidou ryusei.

"Ryu, you're gonna get another ticket!" you yell out through the helmet as the motorcycle's speedometer's needle rapidly ticks up. Your arms wrap securely around his waist as he laughs off your concern, his grip on the handles tightening when he squeezes the throttle grip.

You know Ryusei loves to live life to its fullest—its the core of his way of living life. He's irrational and explosive, impulsive and eccentric. Anything that makes him tick is what captures his full attention.

Unfortunately for you, your complete opposite behaviors is uniquely what made him so magnetized by you. Unlike Ryusei, who tends to stand out wildly in a crowd, be it his unconventional haircut or his obnoxious thoughts that he just can't keep to himself, you're demure and quiet. You keep to yourself at all times and you think that you're quite plain-looking. You don't sport wild hair or scattered piercings, nor do you remove your filter and say what you want to say, so you don't understand how someone like you have a spotlight in Ryusei's mind.

But you do, somehow. And you don't think that he's too intent on shifting it to anyone else soon.

So now you're here. It's eleven at night with an near-empty highway before you, backpacking your boyfriend that your parents heavily disapprove of in the middle of the night because he snatched you up from your apartment and told you to follow him. He tossed you his spare helmet for his motorcycle and off you and him drove into the night.

You should've known better, you really should've, considering it was Ryusei after all that you were dealing with. He'll do anything that his mind tells him to without thinking of the consequences. You can't think of another person in the world who has little to no judgement about his actions.

"Don't worry 'bout it, dolly!" he guffaws from his helmet. He lurches forward and you squeal when the motorcycle's speed suddenly jumps. "You know I'd never hurt ya!"

You very much want to protest against his claim, considering he's forced you to tag along with extreme experiences that have put you scraping at Death's door, but every time, Ryusei always tugs you back to reality, to him. Because your his before anyone else's, even the Reaper himself.

"Where are we even going?!" you ask out loud, trying to leer over his shoulder for any sort of familiar direction. To no avail, you're only met with the empty road of the highway, only lit by the streetlights. "I have a meeting really early tomorrow!"

"Fuck your meeting!" Ryusei hollers, giving another one of those joker-like laughs. "Fuck your job in general, but fuck your meeting specifically!"

You know Ryusei's hatred for your corporate job. Blame it on him hating the mundane or how you rant to him about your trashy bosses, he keeps telling you to ditch the position over and over again, even asking you if you quit every time you bring it up. You know that it's just him trying to be a good boyfriend, but when you try to bring up the fact that the job market for your skills is trash, he only shrugs and just tells you why even bother with working. His salary as a soccer player is more than enough to cover you and him.

"That doesn't answer my question!" you shout back through the loud roaring of the motorcycle's engine. "Where are we going?!"

"You'll see! You need to trust me!" he yells from over his shoulder. You can see those rows of menacing pearly whites from the shaded visor and your stomach stirs a little. From excitement or anxiety, that was up to fate to decide. You've placed your trust in Ryusei's hands a plethora of time and you still haven't gotten a good grasp of its pattern of consequences.

You merely sigh in defeat, placing your chin on his shoulder and placing your whims at his hands, letting him take reign of your late-night journey.

From a desolate parking lot, he introduces you to a lone hill, where a wooden staircase at the bottom of it waits for you and him to carry you to the top of it. It's rather a rough journey, with you counting a total of eleven flights of stairs that you have to take up in the dead of night where you were wringed out of all the energy you had from the day. Ryusei wastes no time, leaping through the first three with no problem. He waits for you as you heave through them at your own pace, your legs already starting to turn numb.

"Took you long enough," Ryusei remarks, not even waiting for a reply from you before he begins to climb another three.

By the time you've reached the sixth flight, he's already done with all of them to your discontent. He calls for you to hurry up from atop the stairs and you flicker back a frustrated middle finger back at him, to which he only answers back with an obnoxious laugh.

"Oop, watch your step, doll," he cautions as he catches you last minute before you face-plant on the floor when you trip on your last stair, your legs shaky from the exhaustion. "What took you so long?" he asks tauntingly.

You shove him off of you, deciding it was better to lean on a tree. "Screw you..."

"Mmh, you can do that later, if you'd like," he murmurs flirtatiously in your ear, laughing viciously as you swat at him. He lets you catch your breath before tugging at your sleeve and telling you to hurry. "Your surprise is waiting, c'mon."

Leave it to Shidou Ryusei to plan something spontaneous in the dead of the night. It was unfortunately very like him to do something as erratic as this, and you just hope whatever he has in store doesn't involve you facing a near-death experience like the one time he brought you bungee-jumping straight after work.

Yawning, you nod and follow him with fatigued limbs. It takes your tired eyes a little while to adjust to what Ryusei is pointing at, but the heaviness disappears the moment you understand why he brought you here so late.

The hill somehow overviews nearly all of the city and the lights it gleams out into the night. Your breath catches itself in your throat as you take in the glorious sight of the stars in the sky and the array of lights that dance about the city's skyline. The taller skyscrapers in the background loom over the rest of the city like guardians and the cars of the cars make them look like little fairies dancing about.

It's a gorgeous view that you knew you would've never seen if it weren't for the interference in your normally-mundane life that is Shidou Ryusei.

A pair of arms goes to wrap themselves around your waist and bring you closer to a chest. Ryusei settles himself nicely in the divot between your shoulder and neck, inhaling a bit of your leftover perfume. "You like?"

You nod, eyes taking in the breathtaking view in full depth, scanning every inch that your field of vision lets you see. "Yes," you breathe.

"Good," he mutters, "Discovered this place randomly a few weeks ago after a post-celebration. I thought you might like it."

"It's gorgeous, Ryu," you warmly whisper, your heart melting a little at his consideration.

In any frontal aspect, no one would expect the Shidou Ryusei to be in a relationship, let alone be good at handling one. But after being with him for quite awhile, with your third anniversary coming up soon, you found a side to him that would be deemed almost unnatural to the unsuspecting eye. Underneath those layers of brashness, you were able to find a softer side of him, one that'd only be revealed to you and you alone.

Sure, there were times when his usual image would shine through when you were with him, most prominent when there were others around that were eyeing you ("Take a look this way and I'll bust your head in, bud!" he had shouted with a wicked smile to a passerby one time that looked at you with just the slightest bit too much of intent), but behind closed doors, a tenderness revealed itself dedicated for you.

Because in all honesty—Ryusei was a good boyfriend. Audacious and obnoxious, sure, but good. There was a reason why your relationship has lasted this long, after all. He'd come at your beck and call when you needed him most with no questions asked. He'd offer you advice whenever you complained about something, knowing that you didn't really care about sympathy. He always remembered important dates, even the miniscule ones like what date the new season of your favorite show released just so he can watch it with you.

That layer that only you got to see was the prime reason as to why you returned his affection in equal fervor.

You begin to feel his lips peppering a small path up the side of the neck, letting out a brief yelp when you feel his sharp teeth graze the lobe of your ear. You can feel him grin against your skin.

"You wanna elope with me, doll?" he asks suddenly.

Spine stiffening, you look at him from the side of your now-widened eyes. "Huh?"

"You heard me," he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it doesn't bother him. And it probably doesn't, knowing that he'll always have a way out eventually to get what he wants.

"I—" you start, your words suddenly knotting in your throat. "Ryu... that's a big decision."

"Well duh!" he exclaims. "That's the point! We gotta make it dramatic as possible. That's the whole fun of it."

"Are you only asking me to do this just so you can get some weird spark of adrenaline?" you ask, brows furrowing in anticipation.

Ryusei snorts. "You think that lowly of me? Hell no. I wanna marry you, for real. It's just..." For the first time since you've known him... you hear Shidou Ryusei falter. His head hunches a bit, a frown forming itself on his lips.

"Your parents will never approve of me, we both know that," he says, his grip around you tightening as though you'd slip away from him at any moment. "I'd never get their blessing."

Your eyes soften a bit as he stares intently at the view in front of you. The way his voice goes so quiet confirms the genuineness behind his words and you know what he says about your parents is true. Yes, he loves you and yes, he'll be able to provide for you, but when your parents learned about his reputation on the field as a soccer player, they exactly weren't the most pleased to know that your boyfriend was willing to start fights with whoever dared to cross him.

But... despite it all, despite all the headlines and the rumors, Shidou Ryusei was still yours. You still held him close despite all the challenges that came your way just for being at his side. It was that singular layer of himself that he'd unsheathe just for you to let you know that you mattered to him just as much as soccer did. While the questions of why were still left unanswered, since as much as you knew him, Ryusei was still an enigma to you, his actions spoke loud and true. Reckless as he was, at the end of the day, he was so, so good to you.

Sure, you could also get such loving from some plucky nobody on the street, but Ryusei's form of love was different. It was vibrant, avid with colors and explosions of life, you don't think another person could dare paint themselves in the colors of Shidou Ryusei.

You could go about your mundane life. Settle down with someone that was just as enticing as you were, have a family, keep working at your corporate job, retire peacefully...

... but truly, where was the fun in that?

You don't think you can live life in that manner after meeting Ryusei. You don't think you should.

"... are you really serious about this?" you mutter softly. "Do you really intend on marrying me?"

Ryusei cocks a brow, as if you've just asked him if the sky is blue. "No shit I do. You think all those times me screaming 'This one's for you' right before I score a goal were for nothing?"

You sigh with a smile, memories of playbacks of your boyfriend shrieking out your name on the field when the ball lands in the net running through your mind and how you had to hide your face at times in embarrassment when he pointed a painted fingernail in your direction in the VIP section.

"Do you swear you'll treat me well?" you ask as your hand finds its way to his own.

Ryusei interlocks his fingers with yours. "When have I not?"

Your heart squeezes. "And do you swear that you'll love me forever?"

You can just hear the smirk in his voice. Suddenly, he removes his hands and repositions them on your waist, your feet suddenly not being rooted to the ground anymore.

"'Till death to us part, sweetness!" he shouts, twirling you around with his strength.

You yell at him to put you down, fists going to hit his arms as he nears the edge of the fencepost. "Okay, okay, I get it! Ryu, I'll fall—Christ, Ryusei put me down! I'll marry you, just put me down!"

Eventually, he does and his laughter dies down. Suddenly, your cheeks are being squished and your lips meet his in a semi-violent manner, teeth nearly clashing as Ryusei kisses you hard and passionately.

He holds you there for a minute, tasting your lips over and over again with his before he breaks apart from you and gives you a wide grin, smirking at your flustered breathlessness.

"Call off work," he says, giving a wet kiss on your forehead. "We're going ring shopping tomorrow first thing."

— promisingly yours, michael kaiser.

"I hate you."

... is what Kaiser said to you out of the blue one day, completely unprompted. You were standing at the entrance of his apartment, some food for him in hand, your journey to travel to his abode ending on a rather oddly sour note.

Despite the fact that it was him that asked you to come over to "hang out" at his place while he was off-season, Kaiser wanted to push you away, to get you as far away from him as possible. He could no longer stand to look at your face without his gut churning and his head spinning. Similar in the way that he'd watch his opponent score a goal during a high-intensity game, something about your presence made him feel queasy, as though there were a storm brewing up inside of him.

It wasn't always this way, which was the weird part. Or perhaps, for a better wording, wasn't always this intense. You and him had been friends since childhood, after he wandered into your father's bakery with the intent to steal to survive. You had graciously given him some spare bread rolls and told him that you'll see him later, in which his return to your father's bakery had bloomed a friendship. Leave it to the neighborhood baker's kid to befriend even the oddest of children, even the one that had a scrappy jersey and bruised knees with a busted lip that would send warning signs to most children. But no, you had to come in and swoop Kaiser into your life like the saint you were.

The problem is that Kaiser didn't know how a sickening feeling like this developed. Was it when you had baked him a small cake for one of his birthdays? Or perhaps when you started showing up to his soccer games to support him? He didn't know and that's what pissed him off—that he didn't have a definite answer to when this feeling started. He let go of that irritation quickly, however, choosing to dwell on the present and future instead of the past since he knew he couldn't change it even if he did have a framework of when. It wasn't like he could go back into the past and stop this horrid feeling from being born.

It was swiftly replaced instead by an annoyance of some kind. He'd get a tugging feeling at his chest whenever you smiled at him or whenever your hands would brush against his. His head would start to spin whenever you were near him, your perfume mingling in the air. The older you and him grew, the more intense such a feeling became and it became a more avid distraction as the years passed.

Like the time you had been sick and missed out on an extremely important match that would bring him to the German World Cup. He remembers seeing the empty seat he reserved for you and how he kept looking back at it during each play. He'd score a goal in a miraculous play and would whip his head around to see if you witnessed him in such a glory, but then a frustration would stir up within him at the air that lingered in your seat. He remembers being more destructive on the field that day.

Or perhaps the time he had taken you on a trip abroad to New York, just you and him, where amidst all the sparkling billboards, one of his own sponsored by Adidas posted on the Times Tower, Kaiser's handsome face overseeing the business of Times Square. It was hard not to miss, if anything, and he got upset that you only complimented it with a mere "That's so cool!" as though the man standing right next to you wasn't the face for one of the top soccer teams in the world.

Or when poor Ness had to witness him throw a tantrum in his apartment when you texted him that you had to cancel plans since you were going on a date one evening. Plates and glassware were broken, Kaiser's nails going to rip some of the canvases of the paintings that were hung up on the wall.

"A date?! A motherfucking date?! What the hell?!" he had shouted as another plate made contact with the wall, shattering it into pieces. "(Y/N) doesn't go on dates?! What the fuck is this!"

In his fit of fury, thoughts of all kinds had raced through his mind, and Ness had to use all of his strength to make sure Kaiser didn't hunt to the poor soul that you had a date with down. Thankfully, you had called him later that night and asked to go to his place, telling him your date had stood you up.

Ness had never seen Kaiser more serene after he ended the call with you, a content smile on his face despite the destruction around him.

Either way, you made Kaiser's body weaker with just the presence of you around him. And nothing made Kaiser hate himself more than feeling weak, hating how he was reduced that small child on the kitchen counter, staring up helplessly at a monster that he was half-created from. Your very essence made his core tighten and a heat bloom all over his cheeks, something that sickened him.

So he hates you. He hates you unbelievably so much for being able to bring him to his knees so pathetically, begging for your attention and your care. A twisted sense of shame would linger to him whenever he was reminded of your existence—as though you were his kryptonite.

He thinks this is the worse it's ever been—now that you and him are fully grown adults where maturity has blossomed something within you. You look more beautiful than usual lately, Kaiser notices. You're more confident and headstrong, your wit a little quicker. An aura of radiance seems to glimmer from you and you just have this magnetic pull that attracts many people toward your direction.

In a sinister sense, Kaiser wants to keep you all to himself. Wants to keep you trapped in his hold and keep you caged so he can admire you alone, away from prying eyes that might have similar intentions. No one should deserve to have such a beauty in their life, let alone gaze upon it. He's God's chosen emperor, only he should be allowed to have such a pretty, loving thing at his side.

But he can't obviously. You wouldn't be okay with it. And as much as Kaiser takes great pleasure in seeing faces of despair and misery from those he wants to bring down, he doesn't like it when you get upset at him. Loathes it, even, when you disapprove of something he does.

He hates you for making him so vulnerable, for showing him a side of himself that he doesn't want to acknowledge.

You blink blankly at his irritated face, raising a brow at such a statement.

But you nonchalantly shrug, used to Kaiser's peculiar behavior. Surely something from earlier must've pissed him off, which is why you leapt to your feet when he essentially commanded you to come over.

"Whatever man," you sigh, shoving your way through into his apartment without a care in the world. "Tell me something new for a change."

Kaiser opens his mouth to respond, brows furrowed, and ready to tell you to piss off and get the hell out, not wanting to be around you any longer, but words dissolve on his tongue when he watches you whistle a tune and unpack the package of food you bought along the way on the kitchen island. It's an oddly domestic scene.

You hold up a plastic container, its contents making Kaiser's eye grow wider.

"Look," you cheer, opening up and holding a stick of seasoned bread crust. "Even got your favorite!"

He swallows thickly, feeling that weakness come to his knees again when you give that dazzling smile of yours. Call him a masochist, but even though Kaiser hates the way you make him feel like this, he can't help but savor it.

So he's here now. A few years later, on the rooftop of an ancient Parisian building with a white carpet before him as he stands on end of a white carpet. The other side of it, the elevator to the rooftop.

Blue rose petals that mimic the tattoo on his neck scatter the area with a flower arch stretching over the small stage he's on. The Eiffel Tower oversees the entirety of Paris, its lights glowing amidst the evening sky. The breeze is just perfect, Kaiser just hopes everything else will go according to plan as he stares intently at the elevator.

"Ness, it feels a little tight..." you mutter, trying to tug at the blindfold that covers your eyes.

"But you can't see anything, right?" Ness asks as his grip on your shoulders stays firm.

"No, but—"

"Good!" he retorts happily. "Don't worry, we've only got a few more floors to go."

Your lips warble. You feel as though this is somehow a weird murder set up Ness has planned for you, possibly waiting for the right moment to just shove you off the building while you weren't able to see. He always did happen to hold a small grudge against you, after all, since he had to practically fight for Kaiser's attention whereas you got it so naturally.

"Where's Micha?" you ask as the floors continue to ding out from inside of the elevator.

"Somewhere," Ness singsongs out, making the feeling in your gut churn.

You stay quiet, trying to think of an escape plan to get yourself out of this mess, but suddenly you hear the elevator doors shift and feel a cool breeze.

"Watch your step now," he says from behind you, lighting pushing you forward while making sure your heel didn't get caught in the little gap of the elevator and its doors. He promised that Kaiser that everything about tonight had to go right, and if he dared to mess up anything, Kaiser would have his head. So Ness, ten times more attentive than usual, gently leads you out of the elevator and onto the rooftop.

"Where are we?" you ask him, your head turning around rapidly to try and examine your surroundings despite the black blindfold. " Are we outside?"

"Leave us be, Ness," a familiar voice says.

The heavy feeling on your chest suddenly lifts, letting you breathe a little easier now that you know that your life has been spared from Ness's hands. Kaiser's voice, though it may bring impending doom to many, somehow had the ability to ease you and your worries.

Ness goes to unravel the blindfold from your eyes, letting the warm glow of the many candles before you light up your field of vision. He leaves promptly, going back down the elevator and leaving you alone with the blurry figure some meters before you. Your vision clears eventually, and the scene unfurls before you much more vividly.

There stands Kaiser at the end of a magnificent carpet that tells you to come his way, dressed in a dark blue button up and black slacks with matching dress shoes. Ever the handsome fellow, you softly smile at him as you walk slowly down the carpet, never breaking eye contact with him.

It was good to make you wear white for tonight, Kaiser thinks to himself as he gets hypnotized by the way your dress flows behind you. This almost feels like practice to what's to come.

"This doesn't look like a dinner," you say softly as you take Kaiser's hand to help you up the platform.

"No, but it's something much better," he replies, a tightness in his voice that he tries to hide. "I hope."

"You hope?" you repeat, brow raising.

"It's all going to depend on you, so don't ruin it for the both of us," Kaiser grumbles before you snort out a laugh.

Getting a hint of what's to come, you allow him to take your hand and watch as he gets down on one knee before you.

Kaiser strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly, all the while gazing at you.

"You're the only person that's able to bring me to my knees, you know that?" he professes quietly.

You can feel a hitch in your throat when you nod, a heat forming on your cheeks.

Kaiser pauses for a bit before continuing. "I hate you. You know."

"Yes," you sigh gently, thinking about all the times that Kaiser spewed out the words whenever he got annoyed with you. "You make it very aware."

He chuckles, and you can't help but laugh as well.

"But I hate you for a good reason. You make me weak, you make my head spin with every action you do, with every word you say," continues Kaiser eventually. "You know me better than I know myself. And I don't know whether it's been in each other's lives for so long or... or if I just get so vulnerable around you."

You bite your lip in apprehension, trying to regulate your breathing as the words just flow from Kaiser's lips as he pulls out a white ring box from his pocket.

"I want to feel that way around you forever, even if it might kill me," Kaiser declares. He slowly opens the ring box to reveal a handcrafted ring that glimmers with a large sapphire gem in the middle whose blue hue reminds you of someone all the familiar. "I want you to keep making me feel so stupidly small, to keep putting me in my place when I need it. And I want to relish in it forever, just as long as its you. I want you all to myself, because only you, (Y/N) (L/N), can do this to me."

"Micha," you choke out his nickname with a voice just slightly above a whisper. The way he looks at you so dearly makes you want to burst into tears. You don't think anyone else has ever looked in your direction is such an adoring way.

Kaiser takes a deep breath, his nerves easing themselves to a balance as he swallows his concern away, letting himself linger in the moment.

"Will you marry me?" he asks you tenderly.

He thinks that the tears that cascade down your perfect face gives him all the answer he needs, but his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when you whisper back,

"... yes."

a/n ; ITS DONE !!!! oooohhh i'm so tired asdfllksadfk my ass hurts from all the sitting

but hi if you've made it this far! im thinking of making a part two to this with a couple of more characters, but wow i will not lie this took some life out of me lolol but regardless! thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are always noticed and appreciated (っ´ω`c)♡ !!

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piastrisun · 1 day ago

Text

don’t smile.

pairings: lando norris + singer female character.

summary: unfortunately everyone has their owns ways to deal with a breakup. she turned heartbreak into lyrics, he turned it into a performance.

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter.⠀warning: none.

notes: named protagonist and messed up dates (as usual)

liked by username1, username and others

f1gossip according to close sources to the couple, lando and marlene decided to end their relationship after three years together.

tagged landonorris, marlene

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username idgaf about any celebrity couple but THEM?????

username1 i just fell at my knees 😭😭

username2 WHAT??????

username3 this has to be a joke, i’m NOT believing it until one of them confirms it

username4 thank god, she was too much of a goddess for him

username4 (i’m actually not taking this news in a healthy way)

username5 don’t tag them, it’s fucking weird

username6 source: trust me bro

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

marlene ⠀ and ⠀ landonorris added their stories!

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liked by reneerapp, username and others

marlene this year has been WILD

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username she’s losing her mind probably

marlene i am, ty for noticing 🤍

username GIRL?????

username2 prettiest crier award goes to… marlene!!!

username3 if i say attention seeker for that second pic then what

username4 you’d be wrong, get out

username5 she’s been posting pictures like that years before meeting lando, what are u on

whitneypeak i’m obsessed w you

marlene i LOVE u

username6 we love you and hope you’re okay!!

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

liked by marlene, carlossainz55 and others

landonorris good days at home

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username so glad to see your smile!!

username2 that happy face 🥹

username3 is it my thing or he’s been too happy for a person that just ended a 3 year relationship

username4 i thought it as well tbh

username you don’t know this man wtf???

username6 live love laugh lando

username7 marlene liking this, so unserious

username8 the difference between his post and hers is very…

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liked by username1, username and others

f1gossip has a new love affair arrived for our dear mclaren driver?

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username SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW

username2 oh that was quick…

username3 these comments??? he doesn't owe grief to a relationship that didn't work out

username4 true but dating two months later after a breakup it’s insane

username5 play ‘is it over now? (taylor’s version)’

username6 LMAOOOO that’s an insane thing to say

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liked by username1, username and others

marleneupdates marlene recently with her team at electric lady studios in new york!

tagged marlene

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username2 NEW ERA INCOMING???

username3 the gasp i just let out

username4 off topic but she’s three apples tall

username5 quite literally 😭😭😭

username6 need new content NOW

username7 not ready to let go emails i can’t send

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marlene added to their story.

replies to your story:

madisonbeer so excited about this 🩷🩷

marlene i’ll try my best 4 u

georgerussell63 musical gossiping?

marlene you already know!!

landonorris and others liked your story.

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liked by username, georgerussell63 and others

landonorris :)

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username pookiest pookie to ever pookie

username2 he��s pregnant with the 2025 wdc here

username3 IM CRYING i hope he reads this

georgerussell63 oh yeah?

username4 WHAT DO YOU KNOW GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL

username5 kinda hate when a man is the happiest after a breakup

username6 as a lando defender, i agree

username7 why do you exist if you’re not mine 😭😭

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liked by maxfewtrell, taylorswift and others

marlene you think it's happy hour, for me, it's not

view all comments

username WAIT. is this what i think it is

username2 babe wake up, mother is serving cryptic lines again

whitneypeak i know a song lyric when i see one

marlene 👀

username3 SUBTLE LANDO SHADE????

username4 you dropping hints like breadcrumbs and we’re HUNGRY

reneerapp your move is coming and i’m so ready

marlene you know me too well!!

username5 i swear, if this is a breakup song, i’m going to scream. i’m not ready

username6 i feel like the breakup will become real once she starts singing about it 😭

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

landonorris added to their story.

replies to your story:

maxfewtrell FIREEEE

landonorris we look kinda lame

maxfewtrell so lame

keeganpalmer do u know what being home is

landonorris no, next question

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liked by madisonbeer, username and others

marlene ‘don’t smile’ is officially yours now!! go listen, i hope you love it as much as i do. thank you for your endless love and support. 🤍 ୭ ׂ 𓈒

view all comments

username on repeat already

madisonbeer this song is beautiful. congrats, love! 🩷

marlene couldn’t have done it without you

username2 IM NOT OKAY

maxfewtrell such a bop, mar!!

marlene thank you for believing in me 🫶🏽

username3 i love they stayed friends 🥹

username4 “i want you to miss me, you're supposed to think about me every time you hold her” SO REAL

username5 heartbreak into art as always

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#piastrisun: work #piastrisun: smau #f1 fic #lando norris fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x oc #lando norris smau #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x oc #lando imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris x you

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happyk44 · 10 minutes ago

Text

[ID: Collection of quotes and images. Some of the material was difficult to source. Feel free to add an addendum.

Quote from Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides, translated by Anne Carson: "Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief."

Quote from The Illiad, translated by Emily Wilson: You already know the story. You will die. Everyone you love will also die. You will lose them forever. You will be sad and angry. You will weep. You will bargain. You will make demands. You will beg. You will pray. It will make no difference. Nothing you can do will bring them back. You know this. Your knowing changes nothing. This poem will make you understand this unfathomable truth again and again, as if for the very first time.

Painting titled "The Pit" by Aron Wiesenfeld: A figured cloaked in many layers of long white and sheer fabric stands at the edge of a water-filled pit. The pit is lined with stone. Grass and flowers grow all around, but fade off into pure darkness towards the back.

Image of unknown origin or media: A bouquet of many different types of white flowers against a black background. In the center, thin outlines of rectangles overlap each other and the flowers, almost as if to mimic a glass vase.

Text reading: my bones whimper at the thought of what could have been. what could have been if i was not born in a grave?

Text reading: Grieving, grieving, constantly grieving I mourn what could have been, what will not be, what I can't save.

Quote from "The Truth About Grief" by Fortesa Latifi: All my grief says the same thing - this isn't how it's supposed to be. And the world laughs, holds my hope by my throat, says: but this is how it is.

Quote from Maurice Sendak: I had a brother who was my saviour, made my childhood bearable.

Quote from "Killing Flies" by Michael Dickman: I sit down for dinner with my dead brother again This is the last dream I ever want to have

Quote from "Killing Flies" by Michael Dickman: "I'll look More and more like him Until I'm older Than he is

Text reading: And now I'll have to remember you for longer than I've known you.

Picture of burned pages from a notebook

Painting of a lamb on a table. Its legs are bound together. Light shines in a strip down the table and against the lamb, but otherwise the painting is dark. There is a small ring above its head in the darkness, as though a halo.

Image of unknown origin or media: It depicts white flowers

Quote from“Sacrifice” by Bilal Al-Shams: i am both the sacrificial lamb and the executioner. the scapegoat and the swordslayer. the one screaming and the angel of death

Quote from "Will Grayson, Will Grayson" by John Green and David Levithan: "I am awful. I am heartless. I am scared that these things are actually true."

Quote from "Last Sext" by Melissa Broder: I ask god to send a swordsman / and god says 'look at your hands'

Quote from "Psalm of Scattered Ashes" by Ashley Mares: is the blood on your hands dry? Is it slowly disappearing? Mine isn't.

Quote from Audre Lorde: "I feel it's my anger that has helped keep me alive,"

Text reading: Anger can also be a substitute emotion. By this we mean that sometimes people make themselves angry so that they don't have to feel pain. People change their feelings of pain into anger because it feels better to be angery than it does to be

Painting titled "The Fallen Angel" by Alexandre Cabanel: A painting of Luficer after his fall from heaven. The picture has been cropped to close in on his face. His arm is raised, shielding the lower half of his face from view but his angry eyes are visible, brows narrowed. A single tear wells up in the corner of his eye and drips down the side of his nose.

Painting from the Peripety serie by Jen Mazza: Three bloody hands embrace each other.

Quote from Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia by Marya Hornbacher: I did not like to be toouched, but it was a strange dislike.I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break.

/end ID]

About wocwog HJ. I love him. He's so raw, and there's so much pain and rage.

#pics #described images #reblogged #god i started working on this a while ago but oof

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luxdove · 2 days ago

Text

Remember me!

(Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader)

Notes: Reader cookie is inspired by Don Quixote from the game Limbus Company and not from the actual book since I have never read the actual book

Since I’m also terrible at writing I’m mainly laying down points and not an actual story format? English is not my first language pls be kind cuz I low key got no idea how to type a story and also these characters might be OOC

Also reader is gender neutral and this is my first story I’ve ever posted 😭

This is also not even proof read and honestly I felt this went all over the place so I apologize if it doesn’t sound great😭

Cw: Hypnosis, memory loss (idk what else to say for warnings)

You don’t remember anything from your past, you kinda just grew up living inside of this tower

But you weren’t lonely! No no! Well actually you were since no one would visit you however! You had tons of books! And would often dreamt yourself to be the greatest cookie knight of all of Earthbread!

It didn’t matter if you seemingly had an endless supply of books, they just never seem to get boring no matter how many times you have reread them!

However one day a knock followed by a crash of the broken door happened, this day was special since it marked your day of freedom from the loneliness imprisonment!

“Oh sorry we knocked your door down…” the cookie with a cane said sympathetically

“It is no worries! What is thou name?!” You exclaimed happy to see more cookies in existence, Gingerbread cookie looks a bit confused as he wonders why you spoke in the old language but he shook it off and tried to understand what you said

“My name is gingerbread cookie! And these are my friends Strawberry cookie, wizard cookie, Custard cookie, Chili cookie, and Pure Vanilla cookie!” Gingerbread Cookie introduced everyone. “What is yours?”

“Thy name…?” You thought about it, you actually don’t remember your name. You looked around and noticed a mail that was addressed to this tower and it said. “Blueberry Milk Cookie…” you muttered “forsooth! Thy name is Blueberry milk cookie!” You confirmed, after all the mail seemed to be addressed to you so surely that’s your name right?

“Well Blueberry milk cookie, would you like to join us on our journey?” Gingerbread cookie asked and you started squealing in excitement. Never had your eyes had shown such bright and shiny stars within it.

“May I?” You asked to confirmed and they nodded. Indeed this was the best day ever.

It’s been a good long while ever since you joined them; you helped them build up a kingdom while meeting new cookies on your journeys. However after meeting all the Ancient cookies in Crispia you decided to hold back for a while to focus on yourself. After the group came back from meeting 2 Beast cookies you decided to take the offer and join them on their journey since you were always excited for a new adventure or journey, after all this is progress for you to become the best cookie knight in earthbread!

“Gingerbread Cookie Esquire! May I ponder where we are headed off to?” You asked

“We’re going to Beast Yeast to beat Shadow Milk Cookie once and for all!” Gingerbread cookie answered, you didn’t join them from their past journeys in beast yeast due to you signing up for random things to occupy your time in hopes it can make you stronger

“Shadow milk cookie..? Hm…where has thou heard such name…?” You muttered as you thought, somehow the name seems familiar to you yet you have never seen this cookie before. “Oh! Yes! Shadow Milk Cookie! I hath read such books and scrolls of the legends of the Beasts!” You exclaimed

“Ah…so you have heard the stories then right Blueberry Milk Cookie?” Pure Vanilla Cookie asked with his kind smile while you nodded vigorously

“Forsooth! Pure Vanilla Cookie Esquire! It ought to be foolish of me to not know such rich stories soaked in knowledge of the old!” You exclaimed “After all! Thou art wished to become the greatest cookie knight in earth bread!”

Everyone laughed while you smiled in glee, after all you sounded like you were stuck in some childhood fantasy with childlike innocence of the world even though you were already exposed to such environments and topics. It was just nice to hear such childlike dreams from the group while they adventured off into a more dark turn.

You guys were enjoying your time while walking down the path towards the Spire of Knowledge, that wasn’t until you guys heard a mischievous laughter.

“That laugh! It’s Shadow Milk Cookie!” Gingerbread Cookie exclaimed as they all went into ready to fight stances as Shadow Milk Cookie appeared.

“Oh if isn’t it my favorite audience to mess with- wait who is this newbie” Shadow Milk Cookie eyed you

“Tis is I! Blueberry Milk Cookie!” You introduced yourself “For thou wishst to become the greatest knight of all of earthbread!”

Shadow Milk Cookie stared at you for a good minute or two, ah yes now he remembered you- but how do you not remember him?

“Blueberry Milk Cookie….huh” Shadow Milk Cookie had a thinking face on as he floated in the air.

“Forsooth! However one of thy missions is to defeat thee!” You exclaimed with shining stars within your eyes as you pointed your lance towards him. Ah, how Shadow Milk Cookie missed those eyes of innocence- it seemed you kept them after all those years.

“Defeat me? HA! Sorry newbie but I! Am the star of the show! And you all are within my stage!” Shadow Milk Cookie exclaimed with a prideful grin. Suddenly a whole rush of monsters and corrupted animals started heading towards you guy’s way.

“Ooooo lookie lookie I guess times up for the next act! Welp toodles! Have fffuuuuunnn~” Shadow Milk Cookie bowed while topping his hat off while he poof-disappeared again.

“That COOKIE!” Gingerbread Cookie gritted his teeth.

“It’s alright Gingerbread Cookie, perhaps we’ll face him again sometime in the future” Pure Vanilla Cookie patted him calmly.

“Indeed Gingerbread Cookie Esquire! After all the Spire of Knowledge is not too far away! Perhaps thee villain rests thou chambers within there!” You exclaimed happily to finally meet one of the Beasts face to face

“Villain?” Pure Vanilla Cookie questioned

“Forsooth! Villain! Is thee Shadow Milk Cookie not thee villain?” You questioned

“Hmmm…maybe but there might be a reason for him to be like that” Pure Vanilla Cookie said wisely, however within your eyes the Beasts have gone far past redemption and are now marked as villains within your book. Now it is your job to defeat such villains!

Then Shadow Milk Cookie greeted you guys because otherwise he would be called a “terrible host” for not greeting his audience and actors. Then you guys just walked all over the place because the palace just seems too confusing! Left is right, right is left, up is down, down is up! There’s literally stairs that are upside down! How on earthbread would you even know where you’re going?!

However as expected you all have lost each other, surprisingly not because of the lay out of the palace no, no.

It was all because Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t think it was entertaining enough so he just decided to split up everyone just for the fun of it.

“GINGERBREAD COOKIE ESQUIRE!!!!! TO WHERE IN EARTHBREAD HAST THOU DISAPPEARED!!!” You yelled out.

“PURE VANILLA COOKIE ESQUIRE!!! TO WHERE HAST THOU-“ you were about to yell out again but a hand covered your mouth.

“By WITCHES do you ever keep your voice DOWN?” A voice that is instantly recognizable and undoubtedly was from Shadow Milk Cookie said in annoyance, however that annoyance was replaced by a smile filled with mischief. “It’s alright you silly Willy! Since it’s you I’ll not do anything”

“Ah! It is thee! Villain!” Your eyes shined with stars in them again as Shadow Milk Cookie face softened, oh boy does he feel somewhat bad for what he’s going to do soon but…he has to, to bring you towards the truth and not live in such a fake reality without knowing just…well you know just a tiny winy bit of information- nothing that would certainly hurt you of course.

“Tis is I! Blueberry Milk Cookie! For thy-“ you were introducing yourself again but suddenly got interrupted by Shadow Milk Cookie.

“Y/n cookie” Shadow Milk Cookie corrected

You looked at him in confusion “Thy name is not Y/N cookie…? Thy name is Blueberry Milk Cookie!”

Shadow Milk cookie didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at that statement “oh you silly willy! That is my old name not yours!” Shadow Milk Cookie barked in laughter

You were in disbelief, perhaps there was more to your life than you could have thought?

“Oh the look of distraught! But who am I to blame? Of course the witches fault! After all they did remove your memories old friend!” Shadow Milk Cookie laughed

Your eyes widen at the news. Your memories were removed? And you were friends Shadow milk cookie back then?

“You villain! I shan’t hath companionship with the villain!” You shouted in disbelief, there was just no way

“Hm? Don’t believe me? Well…” suddenly your limbs get caught in strings making you unable to move any of them and making your body dangle above air. Shadow milk cookie float towards you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at his eyes, hypnotizing you. “Look into my eyes, breathe in calmly” Shadow milk cookie said in a calm voice

You tried resisting you really did, but when you tried to close your eyes Shadow milk cookie literally used his other hand to force your eye to look into his eyes and then your eyes started to close

“No! I shan’t fallen for the villain’s trap! I shall..! Not…! Fall…len…” then your head lowers as your eyes closed off into a festering, slothful dream controlled by Shadow milk cookie

“Hm…well hopefully this dream will make you remember and get you back into your senses dear friend” Shadow milk cookie muttered as he disappeared off to check into his audience wondering how they were doing so far

You couldn’t believe it, these memories…they must be fake

All these lies that you have fed to yourself because you couldn’t remember your past

You were friends with all the villains it seems

You were there when they were created

You were there when they all started their kingdoms

You were there when they slowly got corrupted, also dragging you to also become corrupted

You were there when they were imprisoned by the witches themselves

You tried,cried, and begged the witches to release your friends, swear to curse them somehow if they don’t

The witches being the evil that they are, removed your memories of such events

The faerie cookies grabbed your body and sealed you inside of a tower so it wouldn’t be opened by the inside however it could be opened by the outside

Did you knew too much that the witches made you to lose your memories…? You couldn’t forgive yourself after seeing memories like these, but at the same time you don’t believe it- you just couldn’t!

“Still in disbelief dear?” Shadow Milk Cookie said as he noticed your disturbed expression, you haven’t woken up too long ago “Well I’m sure this photo will help you” shadow milk cookie said as he hands you over an old picture

No…

No! This can’t be true!

The photo of you smiling along with these villains! This was your pushing point and this finally broke you and shattered the reality you thought was true

“That’s enough!” A somewhat muffled voice followed by a broken door “shadow milk cookie this ends now!” Pure vanilla cookie yelled as he pointed his staff to Shadow milk cookie and shoot, however Shadow Milk Cookie effortlessly dodged the attack

“Blueberry milk cookie!” Gingerbread cookie exclaimed “you’re safe!”

“…” you stood there in silence as your eyes were focused on the photo

“Blueberry milk cookie?” Strawberry cookie said as she carefully approaches

“My name is…Y/N cookie” your voiced sound like you went through 9 stages of grief and was broken “my name was never Blueberry milk cookie”

“Blueberry milk cookie?! What are you saying?” Gingerbread cookie “snap out of it! Shadow Milk Cookie fed you lies!”

“Ohohoho! But these are not lies you see!” Shadow milk cookie exclaimed with an uncanny grin “I just showed them the truth!” As he hugged you and rested his head at your neck from behind you while you look down in either shame or despair

“It’s true…my past…I was with them…I was one of them” you answered softly, your eyes that are now dull and seems to have swirls of blue due to the hypnosis of Shadow Milk Cookie- after all he didn’t necessarily fed you the whole truth, just enough to bring you back to his side and then fed you lies

“You cookies however….” You pointed your lance at your once comrades “have been feeding me lies!” Your face full of rage and distrust

“What are you saying?! We haven’t lied about anything!” Gingerbread cookie exclaimed

“Y/N cookie! Please I believe you can see through Shadow Milk Cookie’s deception and see the whole truth!” Pure Vanilla Cookie exclaimed in worry; hoping they can get it through your head the real truth because after all- they haven’t said one ounce of lies and have only spoken the truth so far. So why were you acting like this?

“Lies, lies, lies, lies…it’s all lies with you! You knew who I was and were sent with a mission by the witches themselves to make sure I don’t remember the past!” You roared in anger, seemingly to believe the lies that Shadow Milk Cookie planted along with those memories.

“Hahaha! Oh how this is sooooooo entertaining to watch! Look how wonderful the curtains have fallen as the truth comes out from hiding!” Shadow Milk Cookie laughed in pure entertainment. “Go on Y/N Cookie….

Kill them” he commanded

You listened as if on queue you rushed towards them with your lance, but before you managed to crack or crumble a single cookie, Pure Vanilla cookie teleported them away.

“Aw crumbs! I wanted to see them crumble! Boooooo!” Shadow Milk Cookie pouted “I guess it’s alright since I have you now!” He smiled with his unhinged smile again as he looks at you. Man you look exhausted with all this information poured upon you at once. “How about we catch up hmmmmm? Just like old times” Shadow Milk Cookie grinned.

“I suppose…that’s alright…” you muttered

“Won-der-ful! Now now where do we start?” Shadow Milk Cookie wondered

Ong I might do a part 2 but idk

But low key I started cringing cuz idk what I was doing 😭 cuz I was working on this all day but started working in different parts of the story throughout the day

But anyways I hope you like it, like I said this is NOT proof read nor do I KNOW what I’m doing

#shadow milk cookie x reader #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #cr kingdom #shadow milk crk #shadow milk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #shadow milk cookie x y/n #shadow milk x y/n #shadow milk x you #crk

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obeymeluv · 2 days ago

Text

In Your Defense [PT 2 - Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomfiore]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi?

AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Azul is no stranger to visiting different shops to stay on top of trends. Valentine's Day wasn't something they had in the Coral Sea so this trip was more for the experience than anything. He's taking in the overwhelming but impressive amount of red, pink, and white decorations while trying to look at the other shoppers out of the corner of his eye.

What are they buying? What's most popular?

The holiday seems too brief to plan a full menu, or even to-go specials. Maybe he can do something next year.

There's an emphasis on chocolates and sweets. He's not even eating any of it and his teeth hurt! The small chocolate assortments make more sense than the huge brick of chocolate--dark chocolate?--several Pomfiore students are planning to split between themselves. His stomach hurts at the thought of trying to eat even a third of what they're holding.

In his opinion it's an unimpressive holiday. A marketable one for sure, but unimpressive. Clearly it's meant for the nice, sentimental, mushy people out there.

Not to say there's no one he'd spoil. No one he cares about. Matter of fact, he's got something crunchy in his basket for Floyd! And if it weren't for his mother living underwater, she might like some of these cutesy knickknacks! A set of cookie cutters catch his eye and Azul throws them in his basket without thinking.

Damn hand-brain.

He stares into his own basket, wondering what the justification is. There's a part of his brain saying he doesn't need a reason but he's not an impulsive person. He's a practical person and the practical reason he needs those cookie cutters is to make cookies for the lounge in case any poor soul misses their chance to get something from Sam's!

Yes. Yes, that's it.

He may or may not be trying to tell you he likes you by collecting heart-shaped things. You'll check him out at the register and he'll just keep handing you heart things. Offering his heart over and over.

Not that you'd know. Azul doesn't have the guts to tell you yet. He's got three hearts but no guts.

It's just not the right time, he tells himself. Not the right way.

He puts sprinkles and chocolate stirring spoons into his basket. There's a little mushroom figurine that has white hearts instead of the usual spots. That's for Jade.

Azul weaves between the shelves to get to the refrigerated section, buying a couple of cartons of milk and ice cream. He's not fast but he's stronger than he looks. Aside from the work in his mother's restaurant in the Coral Sea, cooking on land has cultured a lot of muscle in unexpected ways--straining full stockpots, blending quarts of sauces, roasting whole chickens, and hefting huge fish onto the cutting board for portioning. It'll be nothing to carry it all back.

He just doesn't like to do it. And he doesn't like to lose his voice or go completely pink in front of you, but he does. Azul tries to look without looking, charmed by the glittery dangle in your hair and how it brings out the color of your eyes.

Then, he hears it. "How much do you cost?"

It is not enough to beg his pardon. The Seven must also be begged.

A fury whips up inside of him. He's furious that it's just so easy for that lander to chat you up. He's furious that he's not confident enough to do it when he's been drowning in these feelings for weeks. The manager part of his brain kicks in and he becomes furious that you're being accosted on the clock.

SAM WOULD NEVER, BUT WHERE IS HE?! STAFF SHOULD NOT BE MADE TO ENDURE SUCH CONDITIONS!

"Hardly appropriate for the occasion, don't you think?" Azul has stepped in with his signature smooth smile and calm demeanor. He has no cane, hat, or coat at the moment but he knows he makes people uncomfortable without them. There's something about him that makes people nervous. The pecking dread of 'he's human but not totally human' makes them jumpy and very prey-like.

"I-I was just messing around," the guy deflects.

"There's a time and a place. Unfortunately, it's not here and not now. You're interrupting the flow of business and I don't think the other patrons are happy," Azul hums a little as he and the abysmal Casonova look back at all the people in line. They are, in fact, not happy.

"I'll just go." he grabs the change bashfully and doesn't look back.

Azul thanks the person who let him cut in line, half wondering if said person will come back and try to coax a favor out of him. "Thanks, Azul." you smile at him.

"You're most welcome." Azul adjusts his glasses before layering the bags on his arms. You help him with the door. "I'd be happy to treat you to a milkshake. You know, something sweet to make up for whatever THAT was." he gestures to the guy in the distance.

WHY IS HE TALKING? WHY DID HE KEEP TALKING? THE LEGS NEED TO MOVE BUT THEY'RE NOT!

"Sounds great! I'll stop by after my shift."

"Okay," his voice cracks a bit but you don't hear it because the door's already closed. He breaths a sigh of relief.

----

Floyd was sent to pick through the pink and red chaos at Sam's while Jade and Azul redecorated for a Valentine's special at the lounge. It was a last-minute idea inspired by the deluge of advertising. They'd gotten bigger things in town like tablecloths and fancy napkins but smaller treats were lacking. He was tasked with getting melting chocolates and pre-made stuff to balance out the strawberries and fresh groceries they bought.

A big, aggravated sigh passed through his sharp teeth. The line is long and he doesn't really want to do this. Floyd feels his brain shutting off as his looks at heart streamers and silver-and-pink tinsel. At least I won't have to slave over a hot burner all night, Floyd sighs again as he looks at the goods and wonders what would make Azul happy.

The menu will be limited. Each item is heart-shaped, sweet, or both. It honestly just sounds like an excuse to sell people overpriced sugar.

Floyd buys a couple packs of melting chocolates in different colors and some crunchy sour candies for the trouble. Jade sends him a text asking him to grab a couple of cans of whipped cream for the pancakes and crepes. He steps out of line, grabs the cans, and pauses when he hears the guy shoot his shot.

"How much do you cost?"

Really?

Landers are so weird. They don't seem to have any conditions for mating. Why would you entertain this dude when he hasn't shown you he could provide or protect you? Spending money to buy things so he could talk to you isn't the way to provide. Buying your time is no different than those underwater pricks trying to curry his dad's favor with gifts.

It's disingenuous and disgusting.

"I don't see a 'for sale' sign. Can't buy it if it's not advertised." Floyd frowns at the little worm in front of him, sharp teeth poking out beneath his upper lip. "That's how shops work if you didn't know." Floyd laughs.

He was stupid enough to ask you out so he might be too stupid to realize why that pickup line didn't work.

"R-Right." the guy nods, swallowing thickly. Floyd was absently rolling his shoulder, annoyed with how long he'd held the basket. The guy noticed his working muscle and booked it, grabbing most of his change. A coin skipped off the counter, twinkling under the lights. Giggling to himself, Floyd stooped to pocket the change.

"Heya Shrimpy,"

"Hey Floyd," you started scanning the basket of items.

"Ya hungry? It's pretty busy in here."

"A little." you admitted. "But I'll be off soon. I can go back to Ramshackle and make something."

"Nah, come to the Lounge! We're doing specials for groups and couples."

"Does Grim count?" you give a little laugh. Azul lets him in sometimes depending on his attitude. At the very least, he'll let Grim get something to go.

"You get the best deal if you go with me. I'll buy your whole meal." Floyd wiggles his eyebrows at you playfully. His gold eye shines.

"Oh! I like that! I'll bite!"

"A bit early for that but I'll see you there." Floyd knows what he said has confused you. You landers aren't really keen on stuff from the Coral Sea but that's okay. He had a date with you and that's what matters.

----

Jade isn't quite sure what Sam's inventory will hold but he's been tasked with finding interesting things for the Lounge. Pink things, shiny things, profitable things--anything. Azul is convinced it will give him an edge over other places to eat. Never mind the fact that convenience is key and the students don't want to pay for the bus fare or compete with crowds in town.

He peruses the chocolate molds and candy necklaces, amused by the fact you can wear it and eat it. What a novel idea! Sam put a few types of tea on reserve for him and Jade knew they were pretty shades of pink and blue when brewed so that was something. The mer picks up a box of crunchy straw-like things and puts them in the basket. If they don't work as real straws, they can be milkshake accents.

Loaf cakes catch his eye. You could get at least ten slices out of each; top them with a bit of ice cream and you have a cheap but elegant-looking dessert. He puts a few in the basket. Teas considered, Jade is confident in his choices and ready to check out.

"Oya oya? What's this?" Jade's golden eye pierces the spineless lander in front of him. Did his ears deceive him or were you being accosted by unworthiness? "Do repeat yourself. I'm interested."

It sounds like an ask but it's not. It's a demand. A demand for this man to prostrate himself as an apology for his inferiority. For the gall to so much as breathe in your presence.

A punishment for conceiving the notion to approach you, he supposes. A light punishment, all things considered. Jade was capable of far more than some casual embarrassment, after all. His smile was polite but his words were anything but. "Go on. You may not have their full attention but you have mine."

"J-Just forget I said anything, okay?" the guy completely ignores him to whimper to you. He snatches whatever he bought so quick Jade doesn't know what it was.

No matter.

"Hello there," Jade smiles down at you. You definitely fit the holiday theme. Oh! Does that mean he should take you back to the lounge? You're interesting and that fits Azul's criteria.

Yes, he thinks you'd be perfect in the lounge.

"Hi Jade." you pack his items away dutifully. You bag the teas carefully.

Pink and shiny--yes, you must come to the lounge.

"Seeing as you're working for Sam today, I'd love for you to stop by and try these teas. I'm sure he'll appreciate feedback from more than just myself."

"I can make time for tea."

"Perfection."

----

Kalim is admiring the myriad of pinks and reds, bracelets and bangles jingling as he skips into Sam's. Valentine's Day is an interesting holiday. It's practically bursting at the seams with color and he's delighted to know red features heavily. The holiday is practically made to host in Scarabia!

Maybe they could make a red-inspired menu? A red and pink menu? He can't really think of foods that would fit the theme and he'd rather not give Jamil a stomach ache trying all of the chocolate things in here. Kalim trots off to look at the flowers and trinkets, just narrowly avoiding Jamil's stern grab. "Don't run off without me!" Jamil chastises, Kalim giving a half-hearted hum as he analyzed a pair of gold and red earrings.

They weren't cheap but they weren't expensive, either. The price point was fair, Kalim thought. Being who he was, he'd learned to tell the quality of gems and gold from a young age.

Would you like jewelry? He's never seen you wear jewelry. Kalim has bugged Jamil about you a million times, bouncing ideas off of him until he was so frustrated he left the room.

"I think they'd appreciate food more, given their circumstances." Jamil puts the earrings back on the shelf.

"But I always give them food, Jamil! Don't you think they want something different?"

"You're overthinking, Kalim," Jamil taps him in the forehead with a finger. "People are simple. Give them food and attention."

"I would've taken them out on a carpet ride but someone hid my carpet." even when Kalim was trying to cut his red eyes and look peeved, it didn't work. His face was too round and cherubic for it.

"I don't trust that thing," Jamil huffs, guiding him back to the line.

Kalim listens to people talk about plans to split chocolates and call relatives to see what they'd like and a sad pang cuts through him.

Why isn't it that easy for him? He's got more money than people could ever dream of and yet he feels like he's not doing enough for you.

Not that you'd know what he's done for you. He hasn't exactly said he likes you yet. Surely he'd made it obvious with all the invites to Scarabia, right? You hadn't quite caught on to the grocery drops yet but he understands the confusion; Crowley took credit for at least one of those and Kalim was not happy.

"I see an empty-handed Imp!" Sam makes him and Jamil jump. "Are my wares not enough for you, Little One?" he tuts at Kalim's empty hands.

"Oh there's lots of cool stuff!" Kalim promises, smiling brightly. "I just have to be careful about what I eat!"

"What about some roses? Those are popular! They're up there by the register. And we have small fruit arrangements in the refrigerated section, of course."

"Actually, we're just here to deliver an invitation." Jamil redirects Kalim when he seems to be thinking about going to the refrigerated section.

"We could get some festive napkins!" Kalim is leafing through packs of heart designs and colors. Sam seems satisfied. Jamil heaves an irritated sigh as the store owner moves on to his next mark.

Kalim almost drops the napkins when he hears what the guy said to you. It takes Jamil by surprise, too. Jamil starts to panic when Kalim doesn't move; Kalim's outbursts were rare but even rarer were the moments he just froze.

A frozen Kalim means he's contemplating. Dipping his toes into the side of himself he doesn't ever show because it disgusts and disappoints him. The young boy squares his shoulders and raises his head in a way that proves he was raised with etiquette and presence. It's the walk of someone unconcerned because he has so much money that nothing is a problem.

Quick as a flash that cunning, stewing heaviness disappears. Kalim hooks his arm around the guys neck, taking him by surprise. Disarmed by his sunny grin and stunned by his boldness, he stumbles over to a wall of cards. Jamil slithers through the aisles and positions himself just so to listen.

In these rare moments, when Kalim puts on that face, they think alike. Kalim hates these moments because it shows him that people just want money. That they'll trip over themselves for enrichment, compromising morals and anything else as long as the price is right.

But this time it works in his favor.

"Instead of asking how much they cost," the sunniness slowly drains from Kalim's voice, "ask yourself how much it would cost for you to leave them alone. Like, not ask them out again. At all. Ever."

It's the first time someone at NRC realizes Kalim's not all sunshine and rainbows. And that his pampered life hasn't left him completely soft. Kalim had to go through the same training Jamil did, being the heir to a massive fortune and all. He needs to be able to hold his own even though he shouldn't expect to.

Only he and Jamil know some of his rings are hollow and hold poisons. The guy doesn't know how close he is to said poisons.

"Y'know, it's, uh..it's on me. Free." the guy squeaks out, dipping out from under Kalim's arm.

Content, Kalim skips up to you and hands you the decorated envelope with gold calligraphy. "Please come to my party!" he looks at you hopefully, eyes shining.

"I would love to! You know I love your parties!"

"Perfect! I'll pick you up when you're done, okay?" Kalim waves to you.

"KALIM DON'T LEAVE! WE HAVE TO PAY FOR THE NAPKINS! COME BACK!" Jamil has no idea how many sets of napkins he just left with. "Keep the change," he breaths, darting after him.

----

Jamil was taking a rare moment to himself. Lilia and Cater promised they'd keep Kalim occupied for a little while so he could take a breather. They both understood what it was like to look after people, even if it wasn't as serious or to the same degree. The Pop Music Club sessions were normally two hours long, so he had time. Kalim had been yammering nonstop about the Sam's Valentine's setup so Jamil promised to take a look on his behalf.

He grew up around unfathomable finery, almost indulgent to the point of foolishness. Gold forks, gold plates, a knife handle carved from a tree in the Sunset Savanna and inlaid with diamonds--you name it. Perhaps that was why nothing caught his eye, Jamil thought.

So many people were excited about it, though. He had to put himself in their shoes. Their average shoes, just like he was forced to be average lest Kalim feel inadequate.

Poor thing, Jamil rolled his eyes. He was a pro at filtering out noise thanks to Kalim and his ridiculous number of siblings. It was easy to let his brain go and really look at the trinkets and seasonal food. Loathe as he was to admit, some of this stuff was cute.

Jamil let himself bask in the happiness. The freedom.

This is what he wanted for himself one day--traveling, seeing the sights, sampling unusual foods at special times of the year.

Maybe this wasn't so silly after all.

He picked up a few packets of instant curry, only what he felt he could eat and dispose of before fetching Kalim. Curry was a huge weakness of his and he hated that Kalim practically banned it. The amount of caffeine and tea he drank probably bordered on unhealthy (or at least deserved research) but it didn't stop him from throwing a canned coffee into his basket. Because he liked his curry savory and hot, he threw in a strawberry-rose milk drink. It seemed interesting.

Jamil felt the crick in his neck when he snapped his head up in disbelief. Who was this nobody asking you out?!

HOW MUCH DO YOU COST?!

With no Kalim here to temper him, to distract him or force him into the mediocrity, Jamil thought of letting go and lighting the guy up just because.

It really was appalling, his approach. Nothing to offer? What talents or skills did he have? What made him so special, more special than anyone else at NRC?

Nothing, that's what. He probably didn't even know HALF of what Jamil did!

"More than you will ever earn," Jamil answered him. "I'm sure your capacity to make money is on the same pitiful level as your self-awareness. Or do you need glasses to see they're not interested?"

He was known for his biting wit so this was nothing out of character. The way he stared into the boy as if to set him on fire might have been, had no one ever seen him try to get Floyd to cooperate in Basketball Club.

He'd earned his Viper namesake, the boy's ego clearly bitten and bruised as he dragged himself away. His words were deadly, much like Viper venom. Jamil didn't bother watching him leave, setting his basket quietly on the counter and taking out the items.

"Thank you."

All of that venom suddenly dried up. Jamil was feeling quite shy and toothless, not that he'd ever admit it. If he looked up at you, he knew he'd be done for. He could feel his neck heating up.

Unable to resist poking a little fun at him--when did you ever see him blush?--you handed him the change and slapped a smiley face sticker on the back of his hand.

IT HAD HEART EYES!

"I have to go." Jamil took off.

----

Vil was disciplined ninety-five percent of the time so he could indulge the other five percent. Rook all but dragged him to Sam's, waxing poetic about the holiday in all it's pink, sugary glory. He even made Vil promise not to look at any labels while he shopped. Or he could just compromise and let Rook buy him one sweet that he would have to eat no matter what.

That didn't seem too bad, so Vil conceded. Live a little, right?

Several companies had reached out to him in the beginning of February but their products were gluttonous and made him feel sick just looking at them. He felt like he'd be doing his followers a disservice to promote them because they just looked like death in a package. The only one he'd considered so far was a juice from an organic company called 'Beautiful Blends'.

No, not because they had beautiful in the name. The ingredients were organic--he researched the farms--and they had a nutritionist and dietician developing the blends. They had a blend for energy, immune support, digestion, and even one for headache relief. He was interested in the actual beauty blend; it had strawberry, coconut milk, collagen, and several other things he was interested in. It was a milky pink and perfect for Sam to sell during Valentine's Day.

NRC wasn't exactly health-minded outside of Pomfiore so he wasn't worried about missing out. He broke off from Rook, moving with grace and purpose to the refrigerated section. Vil took a split second to admire his reflection in the glass door, satisfied with his skin and the loose hair that escaped his half-bun but had the courtesy to frame his face despite its disobedience. His ring and nails clinked against the glass bottle but he paid it no mind.

"Would you like a basket?" Rook offered his. Vil peered curiously into said basket, unsurprised to see other flavors of Beautiful Blends in there. Rook knew him eerily well. Maybe he knew which ones he'd like to try. He also knew Vil was against overconsumption and wouldn't buy them all at once nor of his own volition.

"I'm fine, thanks." Vil smiled at him, appreciating his constant presence. His discipline and tenacity tended to chase a lot of people away but not Rook. There were people who appreciated him for his routines and followed him loyally, but not like Rook.

Rook wasn't just a 'yes' man. He was Vil's balance in every aspect. As if to prove that, he took the Beautiful Blend from Vil and put it in the basket. Vil didn't like his hands getting wet because that messed with the lotion he applied and it left a weird film on his hands the rest of the day.

"I just said--I BEG YOUR PARDON?" Vil was caught off guard by the flirtation and couldn't believe his ears. It was rare for anyone to surprise him but some NOBODY is trying to make nice with HIS POTATO?!

AS IF!

All he can manage is, "HOW GAUCHE!" as he breezes to the front of the line and stares at the man, absolutely floored. This moment would be a permanent reference for any scene where he needed to look surprised. And lost for words.

And disgusted. And furious.

"You don't think we'd make a cute couple?" the guy teases.

"You want to know what I think?" Vil proceeds to systematically point out the guy's flaws--posture, hair, that one zit coming up in the middle of his forehead--before pointing out that his greatest offense is his sheer selfishness. He's selfish for putting you in a situation where you might cave under peer pressure!

"That's enough, Roi du Poison," Rook shushed him, patting his arm and forcing it down so Vil quit pointing at the little gremlin. If he didn't stop him, he'd keep going. Rook was secretly glad he'd grabbed the Beauty Blend out of his hand earlier; if he was any more worked up it might've gone across the guy's head.

The guy was stunned by the takedown. Vil pointed out things he hadn't thought about. Things he was already insecure about (Vil could tell). "Apologize!" Vil barked in that Housewarden voice.

"I'm sorry." the guy left with whatever trash he bought.

Vil took a moment to compose himself, hands on his hips as he watched the gremlin leave. Fully relaxed, Vil walked to the counter and motioned for Rook to hand him the basket. He set everything out like nothing happened.

"Thank you, Vil."

"It was nothing." he clicked his tongue, waving his hand dismissively.

"Not to me."

Oh, you're clever. And honest. And cute. Maybe he'll drop a hint about his crush in his next interview. Rook forgets he knows French, too, and Vil smashes his hat down on his head on the off chance you know what 'he wants to love you and hug you and kiss you' is in French.

----

It's only natural that Rook would show up for the Valentine's Day sale. He is, after all, a lover of love. Sam never fails to disappoint with his wares and Rook is having a grand time perusing the aisles. There's copious amounts of candy, thoughtful cards, card games for couples, and fill-in-the-blank books with cute phrases and poems!

"You're mine," he smiles at said book, putting it in his basket. There's condensed versions of romantic classics and, had he not read them a million times before, that would be in his basket too. He picks up a pair of heart-shaped glasses for Vil. The desire for liver pate rises in him and he doubles back to check the canned meats. Midway through his careful search, he hears the...attempt...at woo.

A sad, beautiful, nervous attempt.

Rook rises to his full height, feather on his hat dancing almost indignantly as he moves to the front of the aisle. He has half a mind to huck that can of pate hard enough to scare the boy but that would not be very beaute of him.

"Mon amie," Rook drapes his arm around the boy's neck with a disappointed sigh, "There is much to teach you in when it comes to romance."

"Like what? I--" Rook knows that's rhetorical and the guy could care less what he's going to say but he uses his uniqueness to his advantage. He launches into a small monologue about how romance is considerate and kind, not brash and unrefined like that heartfelt confession. Love is delicate like morning dew and tender like the tempting embrace of your bed seconds before you have to get up for the day. Above all, love is knowing your partner in all aspects, which includes when things have gone too far and are not welcome.

Sure, a handful of people left the store entirely but mission accomplished. The guy left shortly after Rook subtly dragged his confession. Satisfied, Rook flashed you a kind smile and unpacked his basket.

"And sometimes love wears a purple hat with a little feather." you smirk at him.

"Oh, Trickster! My heart!" Rook places his hands on his cheeks, face a pretty pink that compliments his green eyes.

---

In the spirit of Valentine's Day, Vil loosened the reigns of Pomfiore's diet for the day. Epel wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and immediately set off for Sam's. With luck, he'd still have some meats on sale. The holiday was all about fluff and pink and sweets so he wasn't worried about missing out on macarons.

To his delight, there was a selection of macarons. He was in hog heaven! If anyone heard the noise he made, it was probably the deepest and most demented thing they'd heard since Vil got his paws on him and 'refined' him. Epel was going to eat himself sick and regret it in the morning but not right now.

He picked up a second basket just for meats, afraid to crush his beloved macarons. The hamburger buns could share a basket with them, but not the meats. Knowing he had a calorie pass for the day unleashed something primal in Epel. All of a sudden he had SO MANY IDEAS.

Bacon burger? Bacon burger.

Hell, he could even make himself a little less homesick and have a traditional Harvestinian breakfast! He put a small thing of breakfast sausages in the basket. The instant grits were a bit of an insult, as was the 'heat and eat' pulled pork but the portion was reasonable and it wouldn't be money down the drain if Vil confiscated it tomorrow.

His patience begins to thin as he waits in line. The baskets are heavy but they're nothing he can't handle, growing up on a farm and all. The line doesn't seem to be moving at all! What in tarnation?, Epel squints menacingly, leaning out of line to see what the hold up was.

DID THAT NOBODY JUST ASK HOW MUCH YOU COST?!

It's clear you're uncomfortable and even MORE clear that this dude is NOT GETTING THE HINT.

As someone who's been hit on more than he cared for, this makes him mad on a whole 'nother level. You're doing all the right things--redirecting, professional body language--but this guy thinks he's going to get his way.

He's not. Everyone knows it but no one's saying anything.

Well he's gonna. What would his grandma say if he just stood by in a situation like this? He puts his hair up in a ponytail and glares at the guy.

"Were you raised in a barn? Couldn't be because EVEN ANIMALS KNOW WHEN TO LEAVE ALONE AN' GIT!" he gets louder with each word, rolling ups his sleeves. He spares his meat basket a quick glance and picks up the still-cold bacon. It's firmer than the hamburger patties and could give a decent wallop. "GO ON NOW, GIT!" Epel brandishes the bacon.

The guy is understandably confused and concerned. Probably the first time he'd been threatened with cold food. If he wasn't going for beef and bacon, he would've snagged a bag of frozen chicken wings and really wailed on the guy.

"I SAID GIT!" Epel chases him out like the dog he is, the guy narrowly dodging a bacon smack.

Word was going to get back to Vil for sure but he didn't care.

"Looks like you're going to have a good time!" you ring up the meats.

"I'm a free man today! Of course I'm gonna have a good time!"

"Have a good day, Epel. Thanks for stopping by!"

"I...I'd have a better time if you wanted to come eat some of this with me. I-I was plannin' on inviting Jack and Deuce, too. And Ace. Ace likes hamburgers. Vil lets me grill outside of Pomfiore sometimes." he starts to ramble, voice getting smaller and smaller as he goes.

"Sure! I'll grab some drinks and stuff when I get off." you smile, double-bagging the meats.

He's red as an apple when he leaves and that'll get back to Vil, too, but he doesn't care.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #Jade Leech x Reader #Floyd Leech x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto x reader #Kalim Al-Asim x Reader #Jamil Viper x Reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #Vil x Reader #Epel x Reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 days ago

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spiderman kiss

for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up event for Valentine's Day

rated t | 896 words | no cw | tags: fake dating au, fake wedding date, strangers to lovers, fast burn of the century, getting together, first kiss, modern au

🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️

“I cannot believe you fell for this guy,” Robin hisses through her teeth as she gestures to Eddie, who is doing his best impression of a bat by hanging upside down from a tree branch. “You were supposed to bring him to the wedding, not want to marry him.”

“Woah. I said I liked him, not that I wanted to marry him,” Steve whispers.

“For you, that’s basically the same thing.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but she’s right. He may not fall for people often, but when he does, it’s all or nothing. Head over heels. Madly, deeply in love.

Eddie was supposed to be his date for this wedding to appease all the kids, to get them to just shut up already about how single he is and how miserable he is when he comes to events alone. He’s Dustin’s friend, apparently someone just as miserably single as Steve.

He’s weird. Steve likes weird.

He’s loud. Steve likes…his loud.

He’s exciting. Steve needs excitement.

He’s also hot. In a metalhead who didn’t get the memo that the 80s are over, wore jeans and a button-up to a formal event, played air guitar in his seat during the bridal march kind of way.

“He’s fun,” Steve settles on, shrugging. “Aren’t you the one who said I need more fun in my life?”

“I meant, like, a new hobby!”

“He could be my new hobby.”

“Ew,” Robin groans. “Okay. Alright, fine. You wanna be involved with him, be my guest. Dustin says he’s never once seen him in a committed relationship.”

Steve knows. They spent most of yesterday together talking, getting to know each other, making sure they could pass as boyfriends and not people who just met. Steve didn’t care about being single at a wedding, but apparently all of his friends had told Dustin’s mom they were dating behind their backs and now-

“Stevie!” Eddie yells when he notices him talking to Robin at the table. “We could Spiderman kiss!”

Steve glances at Robin, who rolls her eyes and throws her hands up. “Oh my god, just go.”

He stands and walks over to Eddie, who is hanging much lower than he should be for a proper Spiderman kiss. He’s grinning, and his hair has started to fall from its messy bun. Steve cannot believe he’s doing this.

He stands with his hands on his hips, smirking at Eddie trying to hold himself up higher, but not having the strength to do it.

“It would be a lot easier to kiss you if you got down,” Steve says.

Everyone goes silent.

Because everyone who is standing by Eddie– Max, Dustin, Will, and Mike– are all very aware that this was nothing more than a fake date for the wedding. Steve doesn’t need to kiss Eddie when no one is watching; He doesn’t need to kiss even when someone is watching.

Eddie stops trying to lift himself, eyes widening as Steve takes another step closer.

“You’d have to be on that branch to pull it off,” Steve says as he points at the branch about two feet above the one he’s currently on. “Unless I get on my knees.”

Everyone pretends they don’t hear the strangled noise that escapes Eddie.

“You’d get dirty, though. Those are nice pants,” Eddie says, still upside down, face bright red from embarrassment and blood rushing to his head.

“They are,” Steve agrees, laughing as he squats so he’s barely higher than Eddie’s face. “But I have to dry clean them anyway. Might as well get what I’m paying for.”

Steve places his hand on the back of Eddie’s neck and leans in, brushing their lips together softly. It’s awkward because Eddie’s upside down and Steve has no idea how they made it looks so hot in the movie, but-

“This is a turn of events I did not see coming!” Dustin’s new wife, Suzie, claps. “You were so right, Dusty Buns. They’re perfect for each other.”

Steve does what he does best and ignores them, focusing on Eddie, who looks unstable now.

“Do you need help getting down?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods, and Steve moves as quickly as he can to help get him upright so he can climb down. He’s surprised Dustin agreed to an outdoor wedding in the spring with his allergies, but Suzie insisted on having fresh flowers everywhere and would not accept store bought. He’s even more surprised that Eddie, who admitted to having seasonal allergies while they talked at dinner last night, is hanging in trees.

When Eddie’s back on the ground, Steve kisses him for real. A hard press to his lips, tongue brushing against him, teasing.

“Did you climb a tree for attention?” Steve asks him when he pulls away.

“It worked. I can’t be blamed for doing something drastic for you to kiss me.”

“You could’ve just kissed me,” Steve laughs.

Eddie does.

“Still fake? Or can we admit that there’s way more chemistry here than we expected there to be and kiss some more?” He asks.

“I regret doing this. I regret it so much,” Dustin groans as he walks away.

Steve rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t. He’s gonna go do his happy dance where we can’t see him.”

“He has a happy dance?” Eddie asks, smile growing as he leans into Steve’s side.

“Yeah, it’s embarrassing. Let’s go watch.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie events #steddie holiday drabbles #steve harrington x eddie munson #fake dating #getting together #strangers to lovers

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bapeach · 1 day ago

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Valentine's Day

Anyone else suck at writing summaries for their stories? Anyways, happy belated Valentine's! I hadn't planned on writing a Valentine's related story, but here we are. Hope you all enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :)

Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader Word count: 4.8k+ Warnings: a bit clinché, swearing, long-distance Summary: Valentine's Day isn't so bad when you get to call with your long-distance best friend, except things don't really go the way you planned. You're not mad about it, though. ------------

Valentine's Day. A day loved by many and hated by even more.

You belonged in the latter category. Why did couples need an extra day to celebrate their relationship? Why would you require an extra day to be nice to your partner when you should do that any other day as well? The only thing this holiday does is make single people feel bad. You’re not bitter about it or anything, it’s just a fact, okay fine, you’re a little salty.

Today is another Valentine that you’re spending single, but this time at least you have plans! While most of your friends were going to be off on dates, you were going to be calling your long-distance best friend and making fun of the whole holiday. To say you were excited to talk to the girl was an understatement.

Being a student-athlete wasn’t easy, Paige had complained about her busy schedule enough for you to know. Not that she had to, you could tell how exhausted she was whenever she found a bit of time to call you between school, homework, and basketball. It saddened you to know the blonde was wearing herself out completely to be the perfect student while also making sure she’s the best basketball player she can be. She barely ever has time to relax, and you’re scared she’s going to give herself a burn-out.

You were glad Paige found time today to hang out with you. You’ve missed her more than you thought you could ever miss anyone, not having heard her voice in weeks and only having gotten short messages to let you know she’s still alive.

“Everyone is gonna be out and about on friday after practice so I’ll have the dorm to myself, FaceTime at 10:30?” Her message had read last Sunday, and you’d immediately agreed. While you knew the Valentine’s Day hangout was just a friendly hangout between best friends, you liked pretending it would be a date.

When you met Paige, you never thought you’d ever fall for her so deeply, let alone be such good friends with her. But here you were, 6 years later, with the biggest crush on her.

When your mom sent you to a random month-long summer camp when you were 16, you’d protested with your whole being. You’d much rather stay home, bundled up on the couch all summer, re-reading your favorite book series, not going to a random camp out in the wild. “You’ll learn so much stuff! And you’ll make friends for life!” She’d said, making you roll your eyes. You didn’t believe a word she’d said, knowing that even if you managed to make friends, you’d only talk to them for that summer and maybe a month after.

You didn’t meet Paige until a week into camp. Her cabin was nowhere near yours, and so you weren’t in the same activity groups as her. One of your roommates had met her one night when she couldn’t sleep and went on a walk. She said you two would get along well, but the more she talked about the blonde, the less likely it seemed to you.

While you were shy, loved staying in, let people walk all over you, and were a bit of a teacher’s pet, 16-year-old Paige was the complete opposite. She was outgoing and friendly, and she loved teasing people even when she didn’t know them. She preferred the outdoors, getting restless when she had to stay in and couldn’t play her sports. She loved breaking the rules and always seemed to get away with it too, her charisma being able to charm all the camp leaders.

When your cabinmate had called her over during dinner, you were incredibly intimidated by the taller girl. She towered over you with a big grin, her blue eyes wide and full of mischief. She was loud and immediately set her eyes on you when she noticed your quietness. When your friends had joked about how shy you were, she’d only grinned wider, saying she was going to get you to come out of your shell.

She managed to win you over a lot faster than you dared to admit. After that dinner, she was always able to spot you in the crowd, coming over to tease you or introduce you to more people. Within a week, you two were glued at the hip. She managed to do what she said she would, making you a little less afraid to speak your mind, while you were able to bring a calm to her that no one knew existed.

You swore saying goodbye to her at the end of camp was one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. You were quite dramatic at times. Sadly, you’d been right about the not staying friends thing. You two sent each other two letters once camp was over and called five times before life got too busy with school, extracurriculars, and new friends. After that, you didn’t talk for two years.

The next time you saw her again, you thought you were dreaming. You were touring different universities and had just finished the UConn one. Paige had managed to get even taller, her muscles were more defined, and she’d finally found her style. You thought you were mistaken at first, but then her bright eyes found yours, and a wide smile made its way onto her face. She excused herself from the conversation she was in and jogged over to you, not letting you say more than a hi before pulling you into a hug. You let yourself fall into the comfortable, familiar feeling, sinking into her as you hug her back.

This time, when you two parted and said you’d stay in touch, you actually did. Sadly, you didn’t end up going to UConn, instead choosing a university over two hours away from the blonde. Keeping in contact was easier now that you were older and more mature. You called each other multiple times a month, texting almost daily, and even met up IRL whenever you could. You’d attended quite a few of her games, and she even surprised you on your birthday last year.

That birthday is your favorite one so far. Paige had surprised you with flowers and a book you’d been wanting for ages. She spoiled you like crazy that day, even staying the night at your dorm before having to go back to UConn. The day after was the day you realized you were head over heels for her. You became aware of the fact that the butterflies you felt in your stomach weren’t just from being excited at seeing your best friend, they were actually because you had a crush on her.

You never told her about your feelings, however. You figured she only saw you as a friend and knew that there were hundreds of girls throwing themselves at her feet, so why would she choose someone who didn’t even live in the same state as her?

You shake yourself out of your thoughts as you readjust yourself on your bed. Seeing it’s already 10:28, you open your camera to make sure you look okay. Patting down the flyaway hairs, you smile at your reflection. Closing the app, you grab your water bottle to take a sip and calm your growing nerves.

Knowing you’ll be even more nervous if you keep staring at the seconds tick by, you open TikTok and scroll on your FYP to pass the time. You quickly realize that wasn’t the best idea, seeing as there are only edits of Paige on your screen. Your face becomes a bright red as you watch the videos and save them all. You close the app after seeing an edit that makes you feel certain things, fanning your face as you try to get rid of your blush.

When you look at the time again, you shake your head in amusement. 10:35. In the years that you’ve known the blonde, there haven’t been many instances in which the girl has been on time. Usually, it bothers you to no end when someone is late. It makes you feel as though they don’t respect you enough to be on time. With the blonde, it’s different, however.

It’s cute to see her all flustered, apologizing again and again for her tardiness. It makes you laugh when she pouts at you, complaining about how her laptop had to do another update, how her alarm didn’t go off, or how Geno always has it out for her during the practices before a call. You grin when she leaves out the part where she was once again being a menace at practice, teasing her about it after Nika texts you to let you know Paige will be late and why.

You send her a quick text, asking if she managed to piss off Geno again, before checking to see if the Croatian had texted you anything. After another 5 minutes pass, you frown a little, slightly worried about the blonde. When your phone buzzes, you sit up straighter, fluffing up your hair a bit as you prepare to start the call. Grabbing your phone, you expect a “Sorry I’m late! You ready?” message, but you deflate instead.

“Hey, sorry I can’t call 2day, feeling exhausted, rain check?” It reads.

Of course, this isn’t the first time Paige has had to cancel on you. You understood that her busy schedule left her incredibly exhausted, and you knew she hated herself every time she had to cancel. Usually she pushed through, calling you anyway and falling asleep within 10 minutes of the call. She’d apologize profusely, a big frown on her face as her eyes turn a murky blue in sadness. You always told her you didn’t mind, you actually found it cute how her tired eyes would slowly blink at you before finally closing.

The fact that she actually canceled this time meant she didn’t feel good at all, so you let her know it was okay and that you’d talk soon. Once you wish her sweet dreams as she goes to take a nap, you close your laptop with more force than necessary.

While you typically wouldn’t mind all that much, you did this time. You missed her like crazy, you hadn’t had the easiest week, all your friends were out having fun, and to top it all off, you were about to have your period, making you even crankier than usual. You sit in silence for a moment as you try to blink away your tears. You press your palms to your eyes as you shake your head. Slapping your cheeks softly, you try to snap out of it. “Don’t be such a little baby,” you think to yourself.

You get up and stretch before pausing in the middle of the room. You look around a little lost, unsure of what to do now that your plans fell through. You bite your lip as you think about the tub of ice cream you left in your freezer for when you had a bad day. You pout as you realize you’ll spend yet another Valentine’s Day watching a cheesy movie that’ll make you cry into your ice cream.

Right as you’re about to open the freezer, you hear a knock at the door. You throw your head back, holding in a groan as you debate pretending no one is home. You knew it was most likely your roommate, who knew you were going to be home, having forgotten her keys again, so you make your way over to the door.

You take a quick peek into the mirror to check if your eyes look red from your mini breakdown, silently cursing when they do. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you open the door, ready to tell your roommate to not mention it.

You freeze as your jaw drops open. Paige is standing in the hallway, holding a bouquet of red roses and a big teddy bear, a wide smile carved on her face. “Surprise,” she says, her voice soft as she takes you in. You cover your mouth with your hand as tears well up in your eyes again. “Damn these hormones,” you think, blinking to make them go away.

Seeing your watery eyes, the blonde’s smile softens as she mutters a “C’mere.” You fall into her open arms, squeezing her tightly as you nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck. Paige leans her head against yours, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. She slowly shuffles you backward into your dorm, using her foot to close the door behind her.

Once you realize the way you’re gripping onto her, you let her go, heat creeping up your face. You feel a bit embarrassed, but the feeling gets taken over by the happiness of finally being near the blonde again. “What’re you doing here?” You breathe out as you look at her in childlike wonder. “Wanted to spend Valentine’s with my favorite girl,” she replies, shoving the flowers and bear towards you. The butterflies in your stomach flutter around as you take the gifts with a wide smile, your cheeks bright red at the nickname.

You quickly put the flowers in a vase with some water before setting the teddy bear down on the couch. When you turn back towards Paige, you see her already staring at you with a soft look in her eyes. You skip back over to her, flinging yourself back into her arms, making her chuckle. “Thank you,” you mutter against her shirt, fondness seeping through in your voice.

You pull back slightly with a loving smile, looking up at her but not leaving her arms. She moves one hand away from your back, bringing it towards your face as she rubs your cheek. “Anything for you,” she mumbles as she takes in your face like she’s trying to memorize every bit of it. You can feel your face heat up, but you can’t look away. Your heart beats faster as you admire her, waiting to see what’s on her mind as you see different emotions swim around in her eyes.

Softly clearing her throat, she steps back nervously as she takes an envelope out of her pocket. She shifts her weight from foot to foot as she looks down at the envelope, her throat bobbing as she swallows harshly. “I, uh,” she starts, biting her lip before looking up at you with an anxious yet hopeful look. “This is for you,” she says, handing you the envelope. You raise an eyebrow at her as you ask, “What’s this?”

“Jus open it,” she says, fidgeting with her sleeve. You open the envelope tentatively, a little nervous at how anxious the usually confident girl is. Folding open the pink letter, you scan the page, smelling her perfume as if she sprayed it on the paper. You smile in adoration as you see the usual scribbly handwriting, this time a little less messy. Taking a quick glance at the girl, you see her rub her neck, nodding at you to read it. Your heart skips a beat as you read the words.

It’s… It’s a love confession.

You grip the paper a little tighter as you read about how Paige has had a crush on you for the past two years and how much you mean to her. Your eyes stay glued to the page until you reach the end. “Will you be my valentine?” The last sentence reads.

You look up at her in shock, excitement bubbling in your chest. The athlete is still looking at you, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?” You whisper, not wanting to break the intimate atmosphere. She nods her head as she bites her lip shyly. A broad smile spreads across your face as you nod enthusiastically. “Yes!” You say, your voice a bit higher as you’re unable to contain your joy.

“Yeah?” Paige grins, her confident, cheerful self showing again. She grabs you again, lifting you up as she twirls you around. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips at the giddiness you’re feeling. “Okay, uhh, I’ve made dinner plans for tonight, but I was thinking we could just chill here for a bit and then go get lunch in that cute little café we went to last time I was here!” The blue-eyed girl beams.

You’re already nodding your head before she finishes her sentence, knowing you’d do anything with the girl. Seeing as you still have some time before you need to start getting ready, you drag the basketball player to your couch. You let her sit down first before settling down next to her and swinging your legs over her lap. You’d been in this position plenty of times before, but those times never felt as intimate as this time.

Your heart thrums in your chest as Paige immediately rests her hands on your legs, rubbing them softly as she relaxes into her seat. You hold your new teddy bear against your chest as you watch the blonde fondly. Catching you staring, she sends you a smirk, making you look down with a chuckle.

“So, how’d you manage to get coach to let you skip practice?” You ask, your head tilted in question. “Oh, that was easy, he loves me, so he said he’d let me skip for once,” she replies smoothly. You huff out a laugh as she says that, mischief clear in her eyes. “You’re such a liar,” you grin back. “Okay, okay, maybe that’s not exactly how it went,” she rolls her eyes playfully. You look at her triumphantly as she gives your leg a little squeeze, more amused than annoyed that you caught her. “He said I could skip, but that my next practice is gonna be extra hard.”

You look at her in amusement but also slight worry. “You didn’t have to do this, you know? I would’ve been happy with just a phone call. I don’t want you to work yourself to the point of passing out,” you reply, your brows furrowed slightly in concern. She shakes her head, bringing one hand to your face to smooth out your frown. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Besides, I think I would’ve gone insane if I didn’t see you soon,” she says, her voice more vulnerable than you’re used to.

Your lips curve back into a smile as she continues. “And stop worrying about me so much, I’m okay. If things get too much, I’ll let you know, I promise.” She sticks out her pinky finger, grinning at you as you interlace yours with hers.

You two keep talking until it’s time to get ready for lunch. Seeing as Paige is already dressed, you leave her on your couch as you walk up to your closet to pick a nice outfit before running to the bathroom to put yourself together. Once you’re satisfied, you return to the couch, blushing as you see the blonde check you out. You raise your eyebrow and send her a teasing grin, letting her know you caught her. She simply sends you a smirk back as she gets up.

There’s not a moment of silence on the way to the café as you two talk about the latest things in your lives. You talk about classes, basketball, family, friends, and the weird dreams you’ve had. The conversation continues to flow during lunch and into the afternoon as you walk around the city with Paige. A smile is permanently etched into your face as you stroll around with your hand in the blonde’s. While her hand is a bit rough from playing so much basketball, it’s still very soft. She rubs her thumb across your knuckles as she animatedly talks about the shenanigans she’s been up to with the team.

When you stop for ice cream, you order your favorite flavor before noticing Paige taking another flavor you love. It confuses you a little, knowing she doesn’t really like it, but you don’t really pay any mind to it as you continue rambling about what your professor did last class. When you sit down, you enjoy your ice cream as you listen to the girl in front of you. She takes small bites in between sentences, making her still have half of it left when you’re done with yours. As she talks, she starts feeding you some of her cup, making you smile at how cheesy you two are being. You don’t mind, though, this is exactly what you’d dreamed of.

When you notice the blonde isn’t eating her ice cream anymore, only feeding you, you go to protest. You don’t get the chance to, however, as the girl knew what you were up to. She quickly shoves another spoonful into your mouth when you open it to speak, rolling your eyes playfully. She grins as she shrugs a little.

Once you two are done, you walk back towards your dorm, silently thanking your roommate for having her own plans and not being home. Once inside, you guide the blonde to your bed, plopping down as you put on a random show for background sounds. You spend hours talking about everything and nothing, laughing harder than you have in months.

“So, this dinner, where are we going?” You ask Paige as you crane your neck up from where you’re lying against her. She pretends to lock her mouth and throw away the key, making you roll your eyes. “You’re so unhelpful, y’know that?” She laughs, knowing it’s true. “Can you at least tell me what the vibe is? Do I need to dress fancy?” You question as you get up and walk over to your closet. You rifle through your options as the athlete speaks. “Semi-formal, I guess,” she shrugs, getting up herself. “Where are you going?” You ask as she starts walking towards the door.

“Gonna grab my bag from my car, I’m not going to dinner in this outfit,” she replies, making you nod in understanding. Once she’s gone, you pause for a moment, pinching yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming. When you know for sure you’re not, you let out an excited squeal before calming yourself down and getting ready. Once you’re dressed, you sit down in front of your mirror to apply some light make-up.

You hear Paige walk back in, having borrowed your keys, as you’re applying mascara. Once you’re done, you look at her through the mirror and send her a bashful smile. She doesn’t smile back, too enthralled by your beauty. You shake your head as you giggle, grabbing your lip gloss. You lean in a bit closer to the mirror, applying a thin layer of gloss to make your lips shine. You glance over at Paige, seeing her eye the applicator as you glide it across your lips. She swallows harshly when you make eye contact, looking away sheepishly as she walks over to get ready in the bathroom.

You scroll through Instagram as you wait for the blonde, liking the Valentine’s Day posts from your friends. When you hear the bathroom door open, you glance up, your throat going dry. Paige always looked gorgeous, but right now, you think she’s never looked better. She smiles softly at you as you take her in. She doesn’t tease you about the way you’re basically drooling over her, knowing she’s just as enamored.

“You look beautiful,” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a soft squeeze. “Says you,” you grin with rosy cheeks. Her eyes twinkle with happiness as she leads you to the door. “Oh, one sec!” You mutter, running back towards your dresser to grab something. You quickly put the tiny box in your bag before walking back over to Paige. “Alright, I’m ready,” you say, rocking back and forth in excitement.

You walk towards the taller girl’s car in comfortable silence, your hand in hers, fingers interlinked. You let her open the passenger door for you, chuckling at her as she gives you a bow. “M’lady,” she tries to say seriously, but she can’t stop the smile growing on her face. “You’re such a dork,” you reply as you get in, hoping she doesn’t notice the bright color of your cheeks.

Once you two are on the road, Paige takes one hand off of the steering wheel, putting her arm on the center console. You look at it for a moment before grabbing her hand and interlacing your fingers once more. You take a peek at the blonde to see her reaction and feel your stomach flutter when you see her sporting a tiny, content smile.

Once you get to the restaurant, you look around in awe. It was beautiful. You still can’t believe that all of this is real. That Paige Bueckers, your best friend, is taking you out on a date and treating you like a queen. Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling all day.

You two share a bottle of wine as you enjoy your food, letting one another taste each other’s dishes, grinning when you find the other’s food better. You giggle as you switch your plates around, not paying any mind to the looks you’re receiving. After finishing your meal, you order dessert, sharing the sweet treat, feeling pretty full from dinner.

Once you’re done, Paige pulls out a wrapped box with a tiny ribbon bow. For a moment you’re confused where it came from, but you quickly dismiss your confusion. “Paige, you didn’t have to get me anything! You’ve already paid for everything today,” you whine, feeling bad about how much the girl is spending on you. “Oh hush,” she says, “I love spoiling my girl.” “Your girl, huh?” You tease with a grin. She rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “Open itttt,” she says impatiently.

You giggle as you open it, letting out a gasp as you see the bracelet inside. “Paige…” you breathe out, “this is beautiful.” “Yeah? You like it?” She asks, hoping you’re speaking the truth. You nod eagerly, flashing her a toothy smile as you brush your thumb over the P charm. “I was scared it would be too possessive, giving you something with my initial on it for our first date,” she admits, scratching her temple. “I love it, P,” you say, letting her help you put it on.

You grab your bag, pulling out your own gift box. “You didn’t,” Paige grins as you hand it to her. “I did,” you grin back. “How? You didn’t even know I was coming today,” she asks, giving you a curious look. “I got this a while back and was just waiting for the perfect moment to give it to you,” you say, your heart drumming in your ears as you nervously wait for her reaction. Her face lights up at the sight of the new chain you’d gotten her. She lifts it out of the box, letting it shine in the dim restaurant lights.

She taps the tiny basketball pendant as it swings on the chain. The blonde sends you a radiant smile, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you,” she says, adoration clear in her voice. You raise one finger, making her pause. You rummage in your bag, grabbing a tiny plastic bag, before handing it to her with a smirk. She holds it close, laughing as she realizes what it is. Opening the bag, she grabs the tiny charm, twirling it between her fingers. “I see we had the same idea,” she smiles, her cheeks becoming a soft pink at the thought of wearing your initial on her neck.

You help her put it on before waving over the waiter for the bill. You begrudgingly let Paige pay, knowing you’d never win that fight against her. You hold her hand as you walk towards her car, squeezing it softly. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst with joy and adoration. Once you reach the car, you look at the taller girl as she pauses.

Her eyes flit over your face as she softly grabs your hips. She steps closer, gently pushing you against the car. She leans in closer, her eyes looking into yours with a questioning look. Your heart skips a beat as you nod lightly. The blue-eyed girl leans even closer, her lips hovering over yours for a moment to give you an extra second to change your mind. When you don’t, she presses her lips against yours in a slow but deep kiss. You grab her face, trying to pull her even closer as you close your eyes. After a minute, you pull away slightly to catch your breath. You move your hands towards her neck as you play with her baby hairs. The smile she sends you makes you weak in the knees, making you silently thank God that you’re leaning against the car.

“Be mine?” Paige breathes, her question sounding almost like a statement. You don’t need to think twice as you nod, pulling her into another kiss.

You know it won’t be easy, being in a relationship while you’re miles apart, but you know that it’s all worth it when you get to call this amazing girl yours.

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