#I should have someone to spend valentine's day with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atlabeth · 10 months ago

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a rose and her thorns | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader

summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.

a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao

wc: 3.3k

warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3

You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.

Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around.

“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly.

You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.”

Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down.

“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?”

He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.”

“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice.

You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.”

It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning.

“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?”

“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.”

“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.”

“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?”

“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.”

“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line.

“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door.

“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!”

You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.”

“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket.

“That’s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.”

“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.”

You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.”

“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.”

You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.

“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”

“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement.

“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.”

Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged.

“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted.

You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist.

“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked.

“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said.

“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.”

Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile.

“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.”

Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so.

“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.”

“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.”

“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly.

“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”

You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes.

“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent.

A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.”

It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke.

“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?”

You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified.

“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.”

“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.”

“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?”

“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.”

Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?”

Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.”

“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.”

“And would you have accepted?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.”

He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you.

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.”

You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again.

“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.”

“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?”

“Be my Valentine.”

“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?”

“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile.

“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.”

“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose.

Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.”

“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke.

“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.”

“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.”

“Really?” he asked.

“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose.

“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.”

“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly.

You looked at him incredulously. “What?”

“Did I stutter?”

“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—”

Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.”

You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.”

“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.”

“How’s your schedule?”

“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.”

Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?”

“That depends what it is,” you said.

“It’s a secret,” he said.

You stared at him. “A secret?”

He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—”

You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”

“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.”

You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?”

“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.”

“You read my mind,” you mused.

“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?”

“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.”

Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back.

You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different.

(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.)

Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin.

“Nice touch.”

Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.”

“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.”

He frowned. “You were actually serious?”

“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.”

“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in.

“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?”

“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.”

“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in.

“He takes that as a compliment?”

“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up.

“And he protects you?” she asked.

You shrugged. “We protect each other.”

“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted.

You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?”

“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.”

You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy.

“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.”

Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.”

Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.”

You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.”

He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.”

“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.”

Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.”

“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly.

“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!”

Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning.

“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.”

“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.”

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.”

“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.”

He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?”

You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.”

“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you.

“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused.

His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?”

“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?”

Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting.

He was surely blessed by your mother.

“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.”

“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly.

“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?”

“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.”

“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.”

“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.”

You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?”

“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.”

#luke when he’s so smooth and then she actually flirts back and he system reboots #posting this and running before i go to sleep bc i can only write in the middle of the night #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

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fatecantstopme · 10 months ago

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Unattached Drifter Christmas

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: Dean decides he’d rather spend Valentine’s Day curled up on the couch with you.

Warnings: Cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), oral (M & F receiving)

A/N: in honor of Valentine’s Day, I gift you an adorable Dean Winchester fluffy smutty delight. 💜

"What are your plans, Sammy?" you asked from your perch on the kitchen counter.

"I happen to have a date," he replied with a smirk.

"Oooo with whom?"

"Just a nice local girl I met at the library last week."

"Sam Winchester and the nice local girl...sounds like a book I'd read," you teased.

He rolled his eyes and threw a dish towel at you. "What about you?"

"I have an excellent night planned," you confirmed. "Since Dean will be out cruising for ladies to go home with, I figured I could steal the Dean Cave for the night. I'm ordering a pizza, watching scary movies, eating a shit ton of junk food, and washing it all down with a bottle of wine."

Sam laughed. "Now that sounds like a party."

"Someone say 'party'?" Dean asked as he entered the kitchen.

"We were just discussing our Valentine's Day plans," Sam responded.

"You celebrating Unattached Drifter Christmas?" you asked in a teasing tone.

Dean shrugged and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. "Nahh, I think I'm gonna sit this year out. I'd rather stay home."

"Awww man," you grumbled.

Dean looked at you with an arched brow. "Is that a problem?"

"No," you answered quickly. "It just puts a bit of a wrench in my plans."

"And what are your plans?" he asked.

"I was gonna take over the Dean Cave for the night--scary movie marathon, pizza, snacks, alcohol."

"Pizza, snacks, and alcohol is my holy trinity," Dean said with a wide smirk. "Would you be opposed to me crashing your party?"

"You hate scary movies," you said.

"Yeah, but you love them," he countered. "I'm the crasher, so I'm not gonna demand a change in movie genre."

You smiled at him. "Alright, then you can come. I'll even supply beer."

Dean winked at you. "The way to my heart," he teased.

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the counter. "Oh, did Sam mention he has a date tonight?"

Sam shot you a look and you hurried out of the kitchen, laughing quietly as Dean started to tease his brother.

"A date, baby bro? Look at you!"

**********

You'd sent Dean to pick up the pizza while you set up the Dean Cave for the evening's festivities. You'd made a run to the grocery store earlier in the day to pick up yours and Dean's favorite snacks, as well as a decent supply of wine and beer.

You were more than satisfied with your selections, but for some reason you felt anxious. Well...to be honest, you knew the reason. You hadn't expected Dean to be staying home and you certainly didn't count on him joining you for the evening.

You'd known Dean for a little over five years and in that time you'd grown to care about him deeply, more than you should. He was a genuinely good person underneath his gruff exterior, a facade he had dropped with you long ago.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you knew you loved him, but you would never say anything to him. You knew him too well. Dean had lost virtually everyone he'd ever loved and he blamed himself for their deaths. He avoided romantic relationships like the plague because he didn't want to add another name to the body count. It was hard enough for him to bring you into his life as a friend, and there was no way he would risk anything more than that.

So of course, you kept your mouth shut, hiding your feelings from both Winchesters. The only person that knew how you felt was Jody and she would take that secret to the grave if you wanted her to. You would rather have Dean as a friend than lose him completely.

You tossed your favorite oversized blanket onto the couch with a sigh. You were trying not to think about curling up next to Dean for a movie marathon on freaking Valentine's Day of all days. You knew it was the romantic nature of the day itself that had your stomach in knots. You'd watched movies and binge ate with Dean countless times before without issue, but there was an added intensity to this instance simply because it happened to be February 14th.

You also couldn't help but wonder why Dean wasn't planning on going out. You couldn't remember the last time he neglected to celebrate 'Unattached Drifter Christmas' as he'd always called it. In fact, Dean hadn't been out to pick up a girl in weeks...you were struggling to recall the last time Dean didn't decline a girl's invitation to come home with her.

"I've brought sustenance!" The man in question spoke from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts.

"Jesus!" you yelped.

Dean chuckled lightly. "Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to scare you."

You shot him a look that clearly said 'I wasn't scared', which only caused him to laugh harder.

You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and headed towards the door. "I'm gonna change into comfy clothes before we get started."

"Good idea," he agreed, placing the pizza down on the table before following you out the door.

Five minutes later, you came back into the Dean Cave wearing your most comfortable leggings and an oversized worn out band tee you'd had for at least a decade. You'd opted to forgo a bra for comfort's sake and you hoped Dean wouldn't notice.

Dean was already sitting on the couch, wearing his gray sweatpants and a plain black tee. It was almost offensive how hot he looked in that outfit--no man had any right to look that good in sweatpants.

When you walked in, Dean's gaze traveled from the TV to you. You noticed his pupils dilate slightly as he looked at you, but you figured that was due to the change in light.

You plopped down on the couch beside him, leaving plenty of space between the two of you to avoid any awkwardness. "Ready to be terrified?" you teased.

Dean groaned softly. "You know I'm only watching these because you love them."

You grinned and snagged the remote from him. "They're so good!"

"Our life is a scary movie," he grumbled. "I don't know why you like these."

"I think that's actually why I like them. Our real lives are full of the kind of shit that would make people lose their minds, but for us, it's just another Tuesday. These movies are either cheesy as hell or have an exaggerated version of a monster we have hunted and killed--so it becomes entertaining instead of scary."

Dean raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Or you're crazy."

You smiled at him and shot him a wink. "That's just an added bonus."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a slice of pizza. As he shoveled food into his mouth, you opened up a streaming service and typed in the name of the first movie you wanted to watch.

"You remember The Conjuring right? And Annabelle?"

"Yeah," he answered. "That Annabelle one was creepy as hell."

You grinned. "Well this one is in the same universe and I've been dying to watch it."

You pressed play on the remote and the opening credits of The Nun began to play. You snuggled up under the blanket and sighed contentedly, a piece of pizza in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

Dean glanced at you and couldn't help the soft smile that graced his lips. It was rare he got to see you truly happy and content, so this was a moment he intended to fully savor. He studied your face, desperate to commit it to memory, unwilling to forget how beautiful you looked in this moment.

He sighed softly and closed his eyes, still picturing your face clearly in his mind. It brought another smile to his lips and he breathed in deeply, smelling a mixture of your shampoo and your perfume. He wanted you to be closer to him, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

He made a split second decision and voiced his request aloud, "It's a little chilly in here. Do you mind sharing the blanket with me?" He wasn't cold at all, but he thought it might get you to move closer to him to share.

"Oh! Sure." You smiled and scooted in his direction, holding the edge of the blanket out to him.

He took it and started to cover himself. "You're gonna need to come a little closer, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. "I need a bit more coverage."

You laughed and moved even closer to him so your arms were now touching. "Better?" you teased.

"Much," he affirmed.

You tried to keep your body relaxed and focused on the movie, but Dean's proximity was overwhelming your senses. You could smell his aftershave, feel his body heat, and see the rise and fall of his chest much more clearly than before. The simple act of a man breathing should not be a turn on...yet here you were.

You shifted slightly as you felt a familiar wave of heat pool in your belly. Not now, you thought to yourself.

"You okay, doll?" Dean asked softly.

His voice sounded lower than before, huskier even, and you had to bite your lip to keep from audibly moaning. As it was, you could feel the slick gathering between your legs, which was mortifying enough.

"I'm fine," you lied, shifting again.

Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. "Come 'ere," he muttered. "Get comfortable."

You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but you allowed him to pull you closer. You laid your head against his chest and sighed quietly. You had to admit, it was a much more comfortable position to be in, even if it increased your longing.

"Better?" he whispered, echoing your earlier question.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

Dean smiled down at you even though you couldn't see it. He liked this new position--he liked holding you. He knew he was crossing boundaries he'd never intended to cross, but his feelings had become unbearable as of late.

He couldn't remember a moment when he didn't want you and it was getting harder to remember a time when he didn't love you. The last couple months had been hell on his heart and he was starting to break. He hid it from everyone, especially you, but he knew he couldn't do that for much longer.

His random hookups had stopped alleviating his desire to be with you, instead increasing that need tenfold after every encounter. So he stopped hooking up with women altogether. He'd considered moving out of the bunker for a while to get away, but he couldn't do that to Sam or to you.

He found himself in a predicament he'd been trying to avoid for years and the walls he'd built around his heart had started to crumble. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you safe--he'd rip out his own still-beating heart if he had to--but he couldn't find the strength to stop loving you. No matter what he did, his love only grew.

It wasn't fair to you and he knew he shouldn't love you, shouldn't tell you, shouldn't pull you into something with him that would almost certainly get you killed, but his own pain was becoming too much. The physical ache in his chest when you were apart was beginning to impact every part of his life, including hunting. He'd be lying if he said it didn't terrify him, but he couldn't fight his feelings any longer.

"(Y/N)?" Dean asked softly.

"Hmm?" you hummed, eyes still trained on the TV.

"Can you look at me, sweetheart?" he murmured.

You shifted your head to look up at him. You were struck by how brilliantly green his irises looked in the dimly lit room, your lips parting slightly in surprise.

Dean's heart was hammering in his chest so quickly he was certain you could hear it. When your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his, he was immediately lost in them--adrift in an ocean of (y/e/c).

He knew this was it--it was now or never...he could either take the leap or let his pain drown him in loneliness. He chose the former. He lowered his head the short distance to place a soft, warm kiss against your lips.

The moment you felt his lips on yours, it was like the world stopped spinning. Suddenly there was nothing but you and Dean--nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. Just you and Dean.

When your lips began to move against his, returning his kiss, he groaned happily. His hands grabbed at your torso, seeking comfort in your soft flesh. He tugged you towards him, and you shifted your body to straddle his lap, lips never leaving his.

In your new position, you could feel his hardening member pressing against your clothed core. You ground against him, earning a moan from deep in his throat. His hands tightened their grip on your hips and your nails dug into his shoulders as the sensation sent a bolt of electricity through you.

Dean's hands snaked under your shirt and he began tugging it upwards in an attempt to remove it. The logical part of your brain suddenly kicked back on and you grabbed his hand to stop him.

"Dean--wait," you gasped, pulling away from him slightly.

His eyes widened and his body tensed. He quickly removed his hands from your body and held them up in surrender. "I'm sorry, we can stop. I--"

You shook your head. "I just need...I need to say something." You bit your lip. "I don't wanna be a one night stand or a friends with benefits thing. I-I can't, Dean. I can't."

The pain in your voice nearly broke his heart. He wanted to reassure you, but he wasn't sure you would believe him. He had a reputation and it was Valentine's Day...what were the odds you'd believe him?

"(Y/N), listen to me," he said gently, taking your hands in his. "I would never ever make you to do something you didn't want to do...and I would never purposefully hurt you. I need you to know that. Do you know that, (Y/N/N)?"

"Yes," you whispered, nodding slowly.

"Good...because I mean it. I can't do any more one night stands or casual hookups or friends with benefits situations. I can't handle any of those things anymore than I can pretend I don't need you. And I do need you, (Y/N/N). I need you in every way a person can possibly need another...mentally, emotionally, physically--all of it. You're the best part of my fucked up life and I don't want to lose you."

It was rare to see Dean so open and vulnerable. This was one of the very few times you'd been witness to it, but this was, by far, the most emotional moment you'd ever shared with him. You wanted to respond, to say all the things you'd carried in your heart for years, but you couldn't think of a single word to say.

Your silence dragged on long enough that Dean began to worry he'd crossed a line he shouldn't have...a line he couldn't uncross. "Please, (Y/N)," he begged. "Say something."

"I'm sorry," you said quickly, realizing you'd been silent too long. Dean's face fell and you knew he believed you were about to reject him. You placed your hands against his chest in a calming manner, desperate to infuse your love in the touch.

"You're not going to lose me, Dean," you assured him. "I'm not going anywhere...my place is here, with you. This is where I belong--where I want to be. Wherever you are is home to me."

He didn't need grand gestures or romantic poetry. He didn't need some eloquent speech about how much you loved him. All he needed was to hear your sweet voice saying he was your 'home' and he was a goner.

When his lips met yours for the second time, everything felt different. It was as if all the moments of his life before this were in black and white and he was seeing in color for the first time. He felt alive in a way he'd forgotten--whole, in a way he'd never experienced.

He'd had very few positive relationships in his past and most of them ended bloody. He'd thought he'd been in love before, but those feelings paled in comparison to the way he felt about you. This was love, a love so real--so lasting--it was branded into his very soul.

His fingers gripped the edge of your shirt again and this time, you allowed him to remove it. "Fuck," he groaned, hungry eyes trained on your naked chest. "No bra?"

"I wanted to be comfortable."

His large, calloused hands gripped your heavy breasts and he gently kneaded the supple flesh. "I want my girl to be comfortable all the time," he murmured. "So I think we should burn all your bras."

Your soft chuckle morphed into a moan as his lips found one of your nipples. You rolled your hips against him, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

Dean wanted to take his time with you and he was thoroughly enjoying his current activities, but it seemed you had other plans in mind.

"Dean," you whined. "Need you."

He gave your nipple one last gentle lick before lifting his head. "I'm right here, baby."

You rolled your hips against his throbbing cock and he groaned. Clearly you wanted more and he was in no position to deny you anything.

He gripped you tightly and stood up. You yelped in surprise and wrapped your legs around his waist. He turned around so your back was to the couch and he slowly lowered you down, placing you on the couch in front of him. He kneeled down and looked up at you, eyes dark with desire.

His hands slid slowly up your thighs, coming to a stop at the hem of your pants. "Can I take these off?"

You nodded rapidly.

He smirked and began to peel your leggings down at a painfully slow pace. You whined in annoyance, but Dean simply smiled. "Patience, sweetheart."

Finally, your pants, and subsequently your underwear, were tossed onto the floor, leaving you completely bare before him. There was a small part of you that felt self-conscious being naked in front of Dean. It was always uncomfortable for you the first time you found yourself in this position with a new man, but Dean was different. You weren't sure if it was the hunger in his gaze, the affection he clearly had for you, or the love you felt for him...you felt safe, you felt comfortable, and you felt loved. That was all that mattered.

Dean licked his lips in anticipation as he slowly spread your legs, revealing your soaking wet pussy to him. He groaned softly, spreading your legs wider to get an even better view.

"Now that's the prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he murmured. He slid a finger between your folds to collect some of your juices before bringing the finger to his mouth. He sucked it clean with a moan of enjoyment. "Delicious."

Before you had time to react, Dean had grabbed your hips and dragged you forward so you were closer to the edge of the couch. His mouth was on you in an instant, feasting on you like he might never eat again.

Your head fell back against the cushion and soft moans began to stream from your lips. Your legs rested on his shoulders and your hand gripped his hair tightly. Salacious sounds filled the room and you were glad Sam was gone for the night. You had a feeling it was only going to get louder.

Dean's experience in the bedroom was very evident as he ate you out. He was extremely skilled, but more importantly he paid attention to you. He was desperate to learn exactly what drove you wild and he wouldn't stop until he'd mapped out all of your pleasure points.

"Dean," you gasped softly, grip on his hair tightening.

He knew you were close, the way your legs began to tremble and your grip on his hair indicating your impending orgasm like a flashing neon sign.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place so you couldn't squirm away. With expert precision, Dean spelled his own full name against your clit with his tongue, sending you into a spiral of moaning, shaking bliss.

Dean continued to lap up your juices as you came down, and to your surprise, he didn't stop, even as you began to tug on his hair in earnest. "Please, Dean! Too much," you pleaded.

Dean sucked your little bundle of nerves into his mouth and slipped two fingers inside of you. He quickly found your sweet spot and began to drag his fingers along it repeatedly. The shock waves of pleasure had you changing your pleas to moans in seconds.

Your pussy gripped his fingers like iron and he couldn't wait to feel you grip his cock in the same fashion. He hadn't even been inside you yet and he already knew he would never want another woman's body the way he wanted yours.

"Dean!" you cried out, thick thighs squeezing his head, hips gyrating against his mouth as you came once again.

He lapped up everything you had to give him hungrily--wishing he could stay between your legs forever. This time, however, he allowed you to pull him up by his hair.

You were completely breathless, chest rising and falling rapidly. Dean licked his lips and wondered how sexy you'd look riding him, breasts bouncing as he slammed up into you.

"I think," you mumbled, "you have...too much...clothing on."

He laughed at your breathless remark. He had to agree with your sentiment, so he stood up and removed his shirt quickly. When he stood, you were rewarded with a nice view of his erection pressing against the confines of his sweats.

He smiled at you and slowly lowered his pants, revealing his very large member. The tip was red and throbbing, precum leaking from the slit. You licked your lips and eyed him hungrily, wanting to wrap your lips around it with a desperation that surprised you.

"Sit," you begged.

Dean smirked and obliged, sitting down beside you. You slid off the couch and crawled the short distance to settle between his legs.

Your soft hands wrapped around his cock and he groaned softly. "You're so big," you whispered.

"Your hands are small," he teased.

"But my mouth isn't."

Dean didn't have the time to process your sassy comment before your mouth wrapped around him and you began to suck his cock in earnest.

"Holy fuck-" he groaned, head falling back against the cushion.

He tangled his hand in your hair and gently guided your head as you began to take his cock deeper into your throat. You flexed the back of your tongue as you did so and he groaned loudly.

Having gotten the reaction you'd desired, you did the same move a couple more times, allowing his cock to almost leave your mouth before sucking him deep into your throat.

His grip on your hair tightened and his hips thrust forward, causing you to gag slightly. Instead of trying to lift off him, you breathed deeply through your nose and held steady, relaxing your throat as best as you could.

"Baby, you're doing so good for me," Dean murmured. "Making me feel amazing."

You moaned around his cock and reached between his legs to cup his balls and give them a gentle squeeze. His hips bucked slightly at the action, causing you to smirk.

You continued to suck his cock until he tugged your hair a little more harshly. "You gotta stop, doll, or I'm gonna cum."

You hummed in disappointment, but allowed him to pull you off his cock with a soft popping sound. He looked down at you with lust filled eyes and beckoned you towards him.

"Come up here, baby. I wanna touch you," he begged.

You climbed onto the couch with him, straddling his legs once again. You lowered yourself slowly, rubbing his cock against your wet core. You leaned forward to kiss him and repeated the action. He moaned against your lips before pressing his tongue against them, demanding entry.

You parted your lips and kissed him deeply, allowing his tongue to assert dominance. The kiss was passionate and loving, but the fire that burned inside of both of you in that moment only cared about pleasure.

"I need to be inside you," Dean whispered against your lips.

"Please," you begged him, rutting against him once more.

He gripped his cock tightly and lined himself up with your entrance. Once the tip pressed against your tight opening, he released his grip, hands settling on your hips to help guide you down.

You moaned softly as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock--the stretch both painful and enjoyable all at once. He was larger than you were accustomed to, both in girth and in length, and it almost felt as if you were a virgin all over again.

You had to lean forward, pressing your body against his for support as you lowered yourself down completely. You'd never felt so full, your toes curled at the mere feeling.

"You okay, baby?" Dean murmured, hands gently rubbing soothing circles into your back as he allowed you time to adjust.

"Never better," you whispered in reply.

You pulled yourself up into a proper sitting position and gasped as he somehow sank even deeper into you.

Dean worried he'd hurt you until he saw the look in your eye. His concern quickly turned to a smirk of pride. He pressed his hand against your lower abdomen and growled, "You feel that, baby? I'm so deep inside you, you'll be feeling me for days."

You moaned softly, his words having the desired effect on you. You rolled your hips a little and he hissed softly.

"Fuck, doll."

He gripped your hips as you started to move, bouncing up and down on his cock slowly.

His lips attached themselves to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone--anywhere he could reach. He was reveling in the feeling of your soft body against his muscular one, your curves providing him with plenty of flesh to hold on to.

"You feel so good, baby," he moaned in your ear. "Pussy squeezing me so tight--can hardly breathe."

"Feels good, Dean," you whimper.

"Yeah, baby? You like the way my cock feels in your pretty little pussy? Stretching you just right--you were made for me."

You preened at the praise, which only made him want to praise you more.

"This perfect body of yours makes me feel so good, sweetheart. You take my cock so well. Wanna stay here forever just making you feel good--listening to those sweet sounds you make. Fuck, never wanna stop."

You loved his praise, but your thighs were starting to get tired from the exertion. Dean could feel you slowing down, so he pulled you forward, pressing your chest flush against his.

"I've got you, baby. Let me take over," he whispered.

You gripped his shoulders and nodded, more than willing to allow him to take control.

As soon as he felt your body relax against him, he planted his feet firmly on the floor and began to piston up into you. He held you tightly against him to prevent you from moving too much.

"Dean!" you cried, nails digging into his shoulders.

His cock pressed into your g-spot with each thrust and in a matter of moments, you were teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

"Can feel you squeezing me, baby. You gonna cum for me? Huh?" Dean asked huskily. "You gonna coat my cock with your sweet cum, baby? Cum for me, sweet girl. Wanna feel it."

You loved the way he begged and it had you coming undone in an instant. You screamed his name as your walls fluttered around his cock. It took all of his focus not to cum along with you.

"That's my good girl," he whispered. "I'm gonna cum soon, doll. Where you want it?"

"Inside me," you begged. "Please, Dean--fill me up."

"Oh, fuck-" Dean moaned loudly as he came, coating your walls with his seed.

After a few more thrusts, Dean stilled. He continued to hold you tightly against him, needing to feel you close to him as he came down from his high.

He rubbed your back soothingly and placed a soft kiss to your damp hairline. "You were so good for me, (Y/N/N)."

You kissed his shoulder. "Felt so good, Dean."

He smiled and squeezed you tighter. He sighed contentedly, enjoying the feeling of the woman he loved pressed against his chest.

His cock had begun to soften and his cum was leaking out of you and onto his thighs, but he couldn't be bothered. Taking care of you was his one and only priority.

"Do you need some water, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

You shook your head.

"Food?"

You shook your head again.

"Tell me what you need, baby," he begged.

You finally lifted your head to look him in his eyes. "I know it's cliché to say I love you after sex, but I don't care. I love you, Dean...I love you wholly and completely."

Dean nearly breathed a sigh of relief at your admission. "I can't even begin to express how happy it makes me to hear you say those words. I've been pushing the feeling down for years, but I can't do it anymore, (Y/N). I love you with everything I have--it might not be much, but it's yours. You have me forever--mind, body, and soul."

You smiled and gently caressed his cheek. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. You kissed him softly, which he immediately returned in kind.

When you separated, you noticed a mischievous glint in his bright green eyes. "Dean?"

"What are your thoughts about round two in my bedroom?"

You laughed lightly. "Are you gonna kick me out of your bed at 2am?"

"Not if you don't snore," he teased.

You smacked his shoulder affectionately and he laughed. "You're lucky you're so damn cute."

He grinned. "Actually, I'm adorable."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You know, I think I like the idea of round two."

Dean smiled and pulled you even closer. "Hold onto me, sweetheart."

You gripped him tightly and he stood up, holding you to his chest. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he headed towards his bedroom.

When he entered his room, he gently tossed you onto the bed, earning a soft giggle from your lips. He climbed on top of you, pressing sweet kisses to your skin for several moments before finally kissing your soft lips.

"I'm glad you skipped 'Unattached Drifter Christmas' this year," you murmured.

He smiled. "Me too, baby. I think it's more 'Attached Drifter Christmas' now."

You laughed. "I love you, you dork."

He kissed you again. "Not as much as I love you."

The two of you spent the next couple hours continuing to explore each other's bodies, experiencing blinding pleasure over and over again.

Nothing could ever compare to the love you felt for each other, and in spite of everything, you both fell asleep in the comfort of each other's arms, dreaming of the beautiful future ahead.

#supernatural #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader #supernatural smut

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slasherscream · 10 months ago

Text

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

#crazy ass girls gang #tiffany valentine x reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li imagine #tiffany valentine imagine #jennifer check x reader #jennifer check imagine #ginger fitzgerald x reader #carrie white x reader #nancy downs x reader #thank you ty and oak for helping me place these guys i was in the trenches #im still in the trenches right now because im down BAD i want them all in a way that #MUST be studied by scientists this shit ain't normal #sorry if this makes me look gay it's because i am #got a little lost in the sauce with ginger HELLO???

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janeyseymour · 1 month ago

Text

Spoiled

Summary: melissa’s never had a partner who plans things like valentine’s day, her birthday, christmas, special anniversaries. it takes years of getting used to it.

WC: ~5.2k

If Melissa Schemmenti was anything, it wasn’t spoiled. No. She grew up in a house where you didn’t give much, you didn’t get much, and you were as close to happy enough as you could get. The small redhead learned quickly that she had to earn everything in life- love, affection, praise, a tangible object… and on the other end of it all, she could also earn punishment, hatred, hurt. Every single action and choice that she made, there was some sort of consequence. Sometimes it was natural, and other times it was not. The times when it wasn’t a natural consequence were always worse.

And as she grew older, she only continued to learn that a spoiled life would never be her life- not as a teacher with a deadbeat for a husband. Everything that she had and was was earned. Nothing could ever come just by luck, or because someone thought she should receive something just because.

That is… until you came along. And it took Melissa a long time to adjust to a life where she was treated as though she was less of a body and more of a treasure- a treatment that she should’ve been getting from the beginning.

The first time that you take her by surprise is her birthday. The two of you had begun dating in May, so when her birthday rolls around in August, the two of you are in a rather secure place to begin celebrating birthdays.

You spend the night before with her, and as nights often end when the two of you go out on dates or have a night in, you stay the night. She begins her birthday in a bliss, to say the least. You are more than happy to indulge her in those feelings, and it is a wonderful start to a birthday for the redhead.

And when dawn breaks, while the second grade teacher is usually the first one up and preparing breakfast for the both of you, you’re so eager to begin spoiling your girlfriend that you wake up before even she does. You silently disentangle your limbs from hers, press a warm kiss to her temple, and slip out of the room without her waking.

Breakfast is going on the stove, a lovely spread of all of her favorite morning foods, when you as though someone is watching you. And there is someone. Melissa is leaning against the archway into her kitchen with a half-awake smile as she holds her robe close to her body. Your smile brightens, if that’s even possible, at the sight of her. Your girlfriend is a stunningly beautiful woman when she’s all done up in makeup and there isn’t a hair out of place, but… nothing could compare to the sight of her just waking up in the morning, if you’re being honest. She wears a tired smile with a look of what you tell yourself is love.

“I coulda made breakfast,” Melissa tells you softly.

Your smile turns into a pout as you realize that your idea of breakfast in bed for the redhead is tarnished.

“Why the long face?” your girlfriend teases you as she makes her way over and wraps her arms around your waist.

“You ruined your first birthday surprise,” you grumble playfully before kissing her sweetly. “Happy birthday, babe.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “You said it last night before we went to bed, hun. It’s just another day, same old shitshow.”

Your brows furrow as you shake your head. “It’s your special day, Lis.”

“Ain’t been special in the past, why start now?”

You sputter out a few incoherent sounds before you can finally get out, “Not special?! Oh, honey… you are in for it today.”

“What do you mean? Why?”

“Why?” you parrot her before looking back to the eggs and bacon on the stove. “Because! It’s your special day! You were born today, and that is something to celebrate!”

Your girlfriend chuckles as she allows you to turn in her arms to tend to breakfast. A warm kiss is pressed to your cheek before she settles her chin on your shoulder. “You, my dear, are something special.”

You crane your neck to kiss her. “That would be you, Lis.”

Breakfast is wonderful- complete with coffee to her liking and a stunning bouquet of flowers set in the middle of the table for her.

“You sure know how to spoil a girl,” Melissa laughs as you dance around the kitchen while cleaning, absolutely refusing her request to help.

“This is just the beginning of it.”

You spend the rest of that day doing everything that she loves. From lounging at the pool, to pulling her aside for a quick… break, to satiate her desire for you, to relaxing on the couch to take a quick nap. And while she’s napping, you see your opportunity to get the things together to take her for a picnic at Belmont Plateau. You gently slip a pillow under her head in place of your lap as you look around for the basket that you’re going to bring with you. You’re somehow able to prepare all of the food and get it into the car without her knowing, she’s still exhausted from sitting out in the sun for hours and then participating in… well, that stays in the bedroom.

You know that if you’re going to catch the sunset like you want to, you have to wake her.

With the gentlest hand on her shoulder and your lips to her temple, you shake her as softly as you can to wake her. “Baby, it’s time to get up.”

Her eyes peel open slowly, and the golden flicks in them sparkle. “Hmm?”

“I have something planned for your birthday dinner today, but I need you to wake up if we’re going to make it on time.”

“On time?” her brow lifts just slightly. “Hun, I told you… today has been great already. We don’t need to do anything else.”

“This is the last thing,” you tell her with a voice as smooth as honey. “And then we can spend the rest of the night in bed watching your reality television that you love so much.”

The look on your girlfriend’s face tells you that she doesn’t believe you, but she gets up. “Is what I’m in okay, or do I need to change for dinner?”

You pretend to look her over- okay, you actually do, because she looks so effortlessly beautiful. Even with her hair in the messiest of buns on the top of her head, eyes still crusted with sleep, and a tank top and athletic shorts on, she is the most stunningly gorgeous person you’ve ever seen.

“You look beautiful, Lis,” you promise her with a kiss as you pull her to a more seated position. “C’mon though, babe. We gotta go if we wanna make it.”

You glance outside, and if you leave now, you still should have time to set everything up in order to be able to watch the sunset while you eat dessert.

As you pull up to the parking lot, your girlfriend looks at you with a confused look. “What are we doing here? I thought we were going out to dinner.”

“We are,” you chuckle. “I thought it might be nice to have a picnic and watch the sun set in one of your favorite places in Philly.”

The both of you get out of your car and head for the trunk. You have the stereotypical picnic basket filled to the brim with food, and she manages to grab the blanket before you can stop her.

“Mel,” you whine. “It’s your birthday. Let me get it.”

“I want to help you,” your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “It’s just the blanket.”

With a sigh, you give in to her request, and you grab the guitar you also packed and sling it over your back.

Dinner is perfect, absolutely everything is divine. Melissa, not one to compliment food often, knows how much effort you put into this and praises the meal with such kindness. Dessert is the same, as the two of you watch the sun begin to sit.

As you’re finishing up the last of your meals, the sky is painted gold, streaks of pink and blue and purple dancing through the sky. It’s a spectacle to behold.

“This is beautiful,” your girlfriend smiles as she watches the landscaping in front of her.

Your heart swells as you attempt to capture this moment in your head. “Not as beautiful as what I’m looking at.”

The redhead turns to look at you, and your eyes are focused on her completely. “You’re the cheesiest person I know,” she tells you with a playful roll of the eyes. She leans in to kiss you though. “Thank you.”

You don’t say anything else. The guitar that has been sitting next to you is picked up, and you begin strumming the instrument before laying your voice over the chords.

The two of you watch the sunset as your soft and melodic voice hums out some of Melissa’s favorite tunes. Once the sun is down, you go to stop playing, but a soft voice stops you.

“Keep playing?” your girlfriend requests softly. You would normally oblige a soft, sweet request like this anyway, but on her birthday, you make sure that you play her absolute favorites.

Her eyes sparkle with adoration for you, your sweet chords and fingerpicking, and your honey-laced voice. Eventually though, your voice begins to grow tired, Melissa’s eyes are starting to droop as she lays on the blanket that you have out, and without the warmth of the sun to bask in, it’s starting to get a bit chilly. So, you call it a night, much to her disappointment.

“But it’s my birthday,” Melissa protests quietly, a small pout evident on her face.

“It is,” you chuckle as you begin to put your instrument in its case. “And I can always continue to sing at your house, but my voice needs a bit of a break for right now.”

Begrudgingly, your girlfriend sits up, smooths down her hair, and starts picking things up to make your trek back down to the car.

When you make it back to her place, you don’t end up pulling out the guitar again. Instead, you spend time in the shower… longer than you would usually take to bathe, and then you’re laying down in bed. Both of you are absolutely beat from today’s activities.

Her head lays on your chest as she closes her eyes.

“Today was a great day,” she sighs. “Most years I hate my birthday, but… I think I could get used to celebrating it with you by my side.”

If the second grade teacher thought you went all out for her birthday four months into dating, Christmas is a whole other deal. The two of you have been dating for seven months,, she’s (by some force above you) allowed you to move in with her, and the holiday season is your favorite time of year. You’re determined to show her that Christmas is not just about presents and the commercialized side of the winter holidays, but there is something about being able to spend time with the people you love and be just the slightest bit kinder (who are you kidding, you’re always sweet as can be).

So while she’s out shopping on Black Friday with Barbara, you’re busy as a bee decorating her house with lights, window clings, little trinkets, you move the couches in the living room to make space for where a tree might go… you’re determined to show her that while past holidays have sucked for her (Joe had presented divorce papers to her on Christmas Day in the past), the most wonderful time of the year with you truly is magical.

By the time she’s pulling back up to the house, you are in full decorating mode. The kitchen has been decorated, the banister to the upstairs has been wrapped in garland and tinsel, there’s space for where you’re hoping the tree will go, the television stand has little trinkets lining it, and you’re just hanging the mistletoe as you see her face appear in the window to the front door.

“Hun?” She shouts through the glass.

“Just a sec!” You call back as you climb down from the step stool that you needed to set it up. Once everything is out of the way, you pull open the front door with a grin.

She begins to walk in, but you stop her quickly, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking your head. You point up with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Babe, you’re joking,” she huffs as she continues to hold a multitude of bags in her arms.

“Jeez, you act like kissing me at the front door when you come home is a chore,” you tease her. “If you hate me, just say it.”

“Well, you know that just isn’t true, but my arms are getting tired.”

“So kiss me, and I’ll let you in!”

Your girlfriend pecks your lips quickly, and you step aside. You follow her further into the house, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

“Are you an elf or something?” Melissa asks as she takes in everything you’ve done, dropping most of the bags in the kitchen and living room as she goes. “Barb and I were only gone for three hours.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful, mi amore,” the redhead tells you softly, pulling you into her arms now that she has them free. She kisses you a bit more deeply than she had. “I never decorate, so this is… this is nice.”

“This is just the beginning,” you smile as you lay your head on her shoulder. “Just wait until I rope you into helping me decorate outside and get the tree with me.”

“Why are you so insistent on all of this?”

“Because I know you don’t have great memories with the holidays, and I want to create new ones… happier ones.”

Melissa, for as much as she used to hate the holidays because they were always filled with memories of fighting and anger, finds that she loves the holidays with you. Everyday that you get closer to the holidays is filled with warmth, and love, and smiles that are so bright she swears you could light up all of Philly.

You set the Christmas lights up outside, making sure that they look perfect. You take her out of the city and to a Christmas tree farm to pick out the best tree you can find. When you decorate it, the house smells of pine and hot chocolate as music fills the air. Copious amounts of cookies are made, the scent always lingering. Shopping for presents is usually a task filled with dread for the redhead, but being with you makes it bearable. Melissa loves the way you light up in the stores when you see items that may just be the perfect gifts or a small trinket that you insist is necessary for the house.

The actual event of Christmas is… so far from what Melissa thought it would be. Most years, she drags herself to these family events. She found that she hates them- her family seeing her alone for years now and wondering when she would finally get back into the game. And when she was with Joe, she was forced to interact with his family… not something she enjoyed doing. But with you? You immediately capture the hearts of her family members, even those who don’t necessarily want to like you. And your family welcomes Melissa in as one of their own. This is so different from what she used to know. It’s a nice different though, a good different, a magical different.

And when the two of you finally get to relax after spending Christmas Eve with her family and Christmas Day with yours, you pull a small wrapped box out of your pocket for her. You see the way her eyes go wide as she wonders what could possibly be in it.

“Relax, Lis,” you chuckle softly as you drape your legs over hers. “I know what you think it is, and it isn’t. I promise.”

Her shoulders relax ever so slightly before taking the present into her hands. When she opens it, it’s a stunning bracelet- one with an engraving on the inside of it.

Here’s to many more magical days with you is all it reads- there’s no tying yourself to her, no promises of an engagement or marriage, just… a promise that you will always make your days together happy ones.

Melissa whispers as she looks at it with wide eyes, “Mi amore, this is… I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?” you cock your head to the side. “You deserve a Christmas present.”

“I- It’s too much,” she says. “It’s worth too much, and I- I’m not worth the money to spend.”

Your heart breaks inside your chest at your girlfriend’s words, and you see in her eyes that she truly believes what she just uttered. “Melissa Schemmenti.” She just shrugs and averts her eyes from your gaze. “Mel. Look at me.” You only continue when sad green eyes look into yours. “You are worth everything in this world, and I am so sorry it’s taken this long for me to find you to show you that.”

She shrugs again. “It just looks so expensive.”

It was expensive. But, your girlfriend deserves to be spoiled. She has this day, her birthday, Valentine’s Day, and your anniversary to be spoiled on- only four days out of the year when you wish you could shower her with presents and love everyday.

“So?” you ask. “It’s Christmas. Let me spoil you.”

“You spoiled me for my birthday.”

“And? That was your birthday, and this is Christmas! Two completely different days for me to show my wonderful girlfriend how much I love her,” you argue with a teasing smile. “C’mon, I thought you were a teacher- you should know that those are two completely separate occasions.”

With Christmas over, Melissa thought she was done being spoiled until her birthday again, if the two of you last that long, and she’s starting to believe that the two of you might really have a future together.

But when Valentine’s Day rolls around, you’re up bright and early with a smile on your face as you make her coffee and breakfast. The stunning bouquet of flowers that you had picked up the previous night and somehow managed to keep hidden from her get placed on the table in her favorite vase.

After her birthday, you should’ve known that she wouldn’t stay asleep for much longer, but you had to try. So when you feel warm, robe clad arms snake around you, you aren’t necessarily surprised. Instead, you turn in her arms and kiss her softly.

“My love, what is all of this?” she asks you.

“It’s our first Valentine’s Day together,” you tell your girlfriend. “I wanted to spoil you with breakfast in bed, but I should’ve known you’d be up.”

“I don’t think I can sleep without you by my side anymore,” Melissa murmurs into your shoulder.

“You’re such a dork,” you tease.

“Your dork,” the redhead can’t help but retort sleepily. Her eyes wander to the flower arrangement on the table. “Those are beautiful, but please tell me you didn’t wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go pick them up.”

“Last night,” you promise her before turning your attention back to the meal at hand.

It’s on the table a few minutes later, and you spend breakfast in a blissful haze with your hands intertwined before you have to start getting ready for work.

You kiss her softly as she gets into her car. “Come home right after work? I have something planned.”

“Of course you do,” Melissa rolls those beautiful green eyes playfully. “Hun, I don’t need a fancy dinner or nothin’.”

“Well…” you hum and look away. “Just… come straight home after work?”

“You know I always do.”

When the teacher returns home, your car is already in the driveway, which isn’t necessarily a shock. You’ve really lucked out with the hours that you work. It’s also not uncommon for you to work through your lunch so you’re able to leave a half hour earlier than intended.

Where she expects you to be sitting on the couch in a fancy dress ready to take her to a ridiculously expensive dinner, you’re actually sitting on the couch in the living room in a pair of sweatpants.

“Amore?” she raises a brow, and her lips turn downward. “Are you alright?”

You look to her with the warmest and sweetest of smiles. “I’m alright. C’mon, set your stuff down.”

“Aren’t we going out for dinner tonight?” the redhead asks as she sets her bags down on the bench by the door.

You shake your head. “I know you’re tired after days like this where you have parties at the school. I figured we could spend our first Valentine’s Day where we’re both the happiest.”

“On our couch?”

“Well, maybe after… but I actually meant the kitchen.” You stand from your place and reach out a hand that she takes. When she thinks you’re going to lead her into the kitchen, you actually take her to the bedroom.

“I thought you just said we were going to the-”

You cut her off with a kiss before pushing the door open. “I figured you would want to get out of your teaching clothes and into something a little more comfortable.” On the bed are a sweatshirt (her favorite sweatshirt of yours) and a pair of sweatpants.

“You weren’t bringing me up here to-”

“No, Melissa,” you chuckle. “I swear, you think I’m a sex fiend. Change, and then meet me in the kitchen.”

You and your girlfriend prepare dinner together effortlessly- one of your favorite activities to do together. Now that she knows you are quite the cook, she always accepts your help in the kitchen- invites it, actually.

The two of you eat dinner the same way you ate breakfast this morning. And then you lead her to the couch. Her favorite movie is already cued up, and the two of you spend that time curled up together, just enjoying each other’s company.

By some miracle, she’s still awake by the end of the movie, albeit she is yawning.

“I think maybe it’s time we head to bed,” you chuckle as you press a lazy kiss to her temple.

Once you’re cozy in bed, she rests her head on your shoulder, and you sigh softly.

“I hope you’re okay with what happened today.”

“Hun, what are you talking about?” Melissa pulls away and sits up to stare at you.

“I just mean…” you fiddle with your fingers. “We didn’t really do much today, but I knew you were going to be exhausted from having all of those parents in your room today for the party. I just wish I could’ve spoiled you more today.”

“Mi amore, today was the perfect day after school. I don’t need the fancy dinners or the sparkly dresses to show people that we love each other. And honestly, you did spoil me. I know you like going all out and doing the ‘fancy’ things, but… you put my comfort ahead of it all, and that is the best way you could’ve spoiled me today.”

You look at her through your lashes with a shy smile. “Well, just know that even though I couldn’t spoil you today, that doesn’t mean I’m not spoiling you on Saturday for a late Valentine’s Day dinner.”

Your girlfriend laughs that incredibly deep laugh, the one that you find to be one of the sexiest things in the world. “I should’ve known.”

“Yeah,” you smile as you pull her back down to lay with you. “You should’ve.”

When your first anniversary of dating rolls around, Melissa has been around you long enough to know that you’re going to go all out. And she’s right. But you don’t go all out in the way that she predicted. You’ve done beautiful picnics, the fancy restaurants, the in between, lazy days… so she really isn’t quite sure what to expect. All she knows that you are going to be so unapologetically you.

She does try to guess, but you tell her with a smirk each time that you aren’t going to reveal anything.

You had spoken to Barbara Howard recently, and the veteran teacher stated that Melissa wanted to be able to give you everything she could for your first anniversary together. She wanted to be the one who got to spoil you, unlike how every other big event went over the past year. So, that’s how you were going to spoil Melissa. You were going to let her feel that she was spoiling you. Of course, the next day, you would give her the paperwork to show her you had contacted a contractor to put in an in ground hot tub that she had been wanting for ages, but for today… she could feel like she was spoiling you. And you would do it with a smile.

To her surprise, when she opens her eyes that morning, you’re still holding onto her- not downstairs trying to finally execute the breakfast in bed that you’ve been wanting to give her since the relationship began. Instead, you’re laying there peacefully, eyes closed. She thinks you’re still asleep, but the truth of it is, you aren’t. You’re so consumed in your own thoughts of how much you love her and could spend the rest of your living days with her.

So, she makes her way downstairs and is able to make breakfast for you. She brings it up and into the bedroom before sitting down on the edge of your side of the bed.

“Mi amore?”

You peel your eyes open, pretending as if you had slept in. You knew she was making breakfast, you could smell it the second she had started working her magic in the kitchen. “Good morning, Lis. Happy anniversary, babe.” You kiss her gently.

“Happy anniversary,” she echos. “I made breakfast.”

You allow her to set the tray on the bed, and the tow of you have a wonderful meal together. Every meal you have together is wonderful.

You spend the day doing everything she thinks you would want to do on your perfect ideal day. And she has you down to a science- the things she planned are everything that you would love to do with her. But in all honesty, anything that you do with her is exactly where you would love to be. She’s home, and any time that you get to spend with her is perfect.

As the day progresses, you see how light she is on her feet- how happy she is to feel that she is giving you the treatment you always give her. And you couldn’t be happier. After so many years of her not feeling as though she had a purpose or a place in this world, you were more than happy to take a step back and let her be in charge and heal a bit of her inner child.

The two of you head to bed that night with lovesick grins on your faces, and your heart is filled with so much love and happiness that you’re not sure you could top a day like today.

And of course, the day after, where you can’t quite walk properly because of activities that you participated in the night before, is a day of rest and relaxation. You make sure that you take the best care of your girlfriend’s aches and pains and soreness. And that’s before you take her outside to show her where the contractor is planning on putting the hot tub.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to get you anything?” you chuckle as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Like, c’mon, Lis.”

“Hun, this is…”

You roll your eyes as you kiss her. “It’s not too much. You’ve been wanting this. You deserve it.”

“I absolute do-”

“Just let me spoil you,” you mumble against her cheek before kissing it.

With the first year down, when these big days and holidays come around again, the redhead thinks that you’ll tone it down- that you had only gone all out because it was your first year together. She’s wrong.

Melissa tells herself it’s just the honeymoon phase. That once you’ve really settled into life together, it won’t always be this magical. She’s wrong. You never let a big day go by without spoiling her. And while she never comes to expect it, she accepts the fact that this is who you are. That you spoil her because you love her more than she thinks she’s ever seen anyone love another human before. As time goes on she will just lovingly kiss you, having adjusted to this life that she lives now. A life where love is unconditional, and she doesn’t have to earn it.

Your girlfriend becomes your wife, and a few years later, the family expands. You welcome two little girls into your world right after Melissa’s birthday, and they grow before your eyes.

When Christmas rolls around, this is the first year that your wife thinks that maybe you won’t spoil her the way you have been for years now. With two small children to care for now, you’re not necessarily in a place to be spending the money and living the lavish lifestyle that you had both grown accustomed to. And Melissa is entirely okay with this- your little ones deserve the absolute world.

But still, you manage to spoil her. She’s not quite sure how you had managed it with the budget, but she’s presented with a sparkling necklace on Christmas morning, adorned with all four of your birthstones on it.

“Honey,” she whispers as she looks at it, tears in her eyes. “This is… beautiful. But I- I didn’t get you anything like this. I figured with the twins now-”

“I don’t need anything other than what I have right here,” you promise her quietly. “Everything I need is here, and it is more than enough.”

“But I-”

“Let me spoil you,” you tell her, much like you’ve done for years.

She chuckles a watery chuckle before sighing and kissing you sweetly. “Will you ever stop?”

“Spoiling you?” you ask her with a playful roll of the eyes. “Absolutely not. I’ve been doing it for years. Why would I stop now?”

“Because we have the girls to worry about and spoil now.”

“And they will be,” you tell her as you glance over at the two sleeping quietly in the bassinets you have set up in the living room. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop spoiling you.”

Tags: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #lisa ann walter

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steveshairychest · 2 years ago

Text

Steve hates February 14th.

It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.

It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.

Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.

Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.

Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.

Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.

After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.

Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.

Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.

He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.

A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."

Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "

Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."

"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.

Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."

Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.

Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"

Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.

#blegh hate this but you can have it #my allergies are really bad today #been sneezing like crazy #my eyes are so itcjy and watery i could hardly see the keyboard #BUT OH WELL #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months ago

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when you know, you know. (e.m.)

summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.

warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.

“Yes!”

If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly.

“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.”

You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.”

Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.

You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed.

But it hadn’t.

It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over.

The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon.

The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours.

“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving.

“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.”

“And why would you ever do that?”

Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee.

“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.”

You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you.

You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.

He was an absolute weirdo as well.

Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil.

That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it.

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?”

He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you.

“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose.

He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”

“You just-”

You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees.

Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more.

Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner.

“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.

“It was your prize.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?”

Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it.

You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.”

If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this.

He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma’am. I swear it.”

He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least.

You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed.

“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?”

He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically.

He wants you to kiss him.

Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too.

Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose.

He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him.

“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.”

He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”

You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him.

The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out.

“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?”

His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss.

You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life.

When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.

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osarina · 10 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 IN PAPER RINGS AND PICTURE FRAMES!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai has never been a true believer of murphy’s law, not until today at least. he swears the world is out to get him, all he wanted was to give you a nice valentine’s day... and maybe something a little extra special. (wordcount: 6.7k; sfw; very brief mentions of dazai's attempts, fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: valentine's day fic for my sweetest boy

“What do you mean I can’t have the day off?” Dazai cries out, staring down at his phone in abject horror. A pillow is flung at his head and Dazai sputters out an apology to you before lifting his phone back to his ear, making a point to lower his voice as he says, “Kunikida-kun, it’s Valentine’s Day. Not even you can be this heartless.”

“Dazai!” Kunikida says, voice stern and sharp, and Dazai knows that the man is serious because he’s not spitting out insults about Dazai’s laziness and lack of drive to do anything but lounge around and avoid work. “Trust me. It brings me no joy to make you come in today—not for your sake, but for her’s. But we have to finish up the final preparations for Tanizaki and Atsushi’s upcoming mission before they leave for Kyoto tomorrow morning. Get to the office now.”

“Kunikida-kun,” Dazai complains, feeling a bit more panicked, “but I-”

“Maybe if you had actually done your work the past few days, I could’ve covered for you,” Kunikida spits out angrily. “But we have double the workload to finish by tonight because you’ve been slacking off the past week. Anyway, you shouldn’t be calling the day of asking for a day off. Be to the office asap.”

Kunikida doesn’t even wait for Dazai’s response, hanging up the phone and leaving Dazai standing in your apartment staring at his phone with parted lips and wide eyes, unable to comprehend what just happened. A noise escapes his lips, something caught between a scoff and a whimper, and Dazai thinks he might cry. He feels like a wounded puppy as he turns his attention over to where you’re still curled up in bed, eyes barely cracked open as you watch him with furrowed brows.

“Bella…” he pouts, making his way over to you so he can sit next to you on the bed. “They’re making me go into the office.”

You only roll toward him, eyes heavy with sleep, barely able to hold them open, and Dazai’s chest feels tight and warm with a lovely feeling that he’s only ever experienced with you. He reaches out to cup your cheek, fingertips grazing your skin—your lashes flutter as your eyes droop back shut, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of someone seeking out his touch, trusting his hands as if they aren’t rotted and blood-stained.

“Then go,” you say with a yawn, leaning into his touch and pulling the dark comforter back up around your shoulders from where it had slipped down your body.

Dazai pushes his lip out even more. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I wanted to spend the day with you. You took off today too.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him and Dazai wants to tell you that it is decidedly not okay but he can’t tell you that because you’ll ask why and he can’t tell you without ruining everything. “I’m tired anyway. Someone decided to keep me up half the night.”

Dazai can hardly even muster the vulgar smile and dirty joke that should have come to him with ease, and evidently, that’s proof enough to you that something must be seriously wrong because you crack your eyes back open and peer up at him, concern slowly eclipsing the tiredness. Another thing he’ll never be used to: having someone genuinely worry over him even over the smallest things.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him softly, yawning again as you reach up to run your fingers through his hair. The comforter slides down from around your shoulders again, revealing the smooth skin of your bare shoulders and collarbone, and Dazai wishes for nothing more than to slip beneath the sheets with you, wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your chest.

Instead, he lets himself lean into your touch for a moment, eyes falling shut as he basks in the feeling of your fingers carding through his dark locks, nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he could stay in this moment forever, but alas, the serenity is utterly shattered when his phone starts buzzing again.

Dazai lets out a heavy exhale, dark eyes dragging from you to where his phone is laying on the bed next to him, seeing Atsushi’s name flash on the screen—surely having been told by Kunikida to follow up and make sure that Dazai is actually going to show up at the office.

“I just wanted to spend the day with you,” he says, a bit of a white lie, but he can’t tell you the real reason why he’s so disappointed. “He’s had it out for me ever since we got together. He’s jealous. This is his way of getting one over me.”

You smile lightly at him, pulling his face down a bit so that you can press your lips against his. Dazai sighs into your mouth, eyes sliding shut again as he kisses you, hand coming up again to cup your cheek as his lips move against yours. The kiss is slow and intimate, but far too short for his liking. You pull your lips away from his and Dazai gives you a wounded look when he tries to chase your lips only for you to dodge with a giggle.

“Go, Osamu,” you tell him and Dazai lets out a groan, letting his head drop to your chest. You toy with his hair and Dazai wants to tell you that doing that is only going to make him want to stay even more but he also doesn’t want you to stop so he decides against it. “The faster you get there and get your work done, the quicker you can come home.”

Home. Another word he might never get used to, his chest feels warm and fluttery as he tilts his head to the side so he can peer up at you. “Or I can just not go in at all and deal with Kunikida’s righteous fury tomorrow.”

“No,” you say firmly, tugging at his ear and making him yelp. “Go, Osamu. Don’t be ridiculous. Let me sleep.”

Dazai sighs, rising to his feet and letting you curl back beneath the covers. He wants to tell you that it’s not that simple and that he has a whole plan and he needs to follow it strictly otherwise he’s scared that everything will go wrong, but there’s no way of explaining that to you without having to tell you why which would ruin everything. Lamenting to himself, he shrugs his coat onto his shoulders and leans down to press his lips between your brows as you start to doze off again, brushing your hair behind your ear and letting his eyes linger on your face, skin glowing gently beneath the early morning sun.

It takes all of his willpower to step away from you and make his way out of your apartment, the ring in his pocket weighing more heavily with every step he takes.

•••

Dazai is really trying his best not to let his frustration spoil the night. The sun has already long set. What should have been a short day at the office finishing up paperwork ended up with him working overtime because of an emergency mission on the far side of the city concerning an ability user who could mimic appearances. Everybody else is still at the office trying to finish up preparations for Tanizaki and Atsushi’s upcoming mission in Kyoto but the President had taken one look at Dazai’s abysmal expression and told him to go home and be with you.

And Dazai should appreciate that, honestly, otherwise he’d be stuck at the office until god knows when, leaving you at home alone all day and all night on the one day he was planning to spend the whole day with you, but he’s so bitter that he can’t even summon the appreciation he should feel. You’re taking it in stride, of course, telling him that it’s okay and you’re not mad even though Dazai insists that you definitely should be. He called you while on the train with Kunikida, curled up in a seat pouting as he shot his partner dirty looks and mourned his shitty luck because of course this would happen on the day he was planning to make the biggest decision of his life, and yours.

Not that he could tell you that part, obviously.

Kunikida had been rightfully guilty, apologizing to Dazai for the day taking as long as it did and continuously shooting him ashamed looks, but Dazai couldn’t even bask in the knowledge that Kunikida is actually apologizing to him for making him work because he’s so frustrated about how the day has gone compared to what he had planned.

It’s still salvageable, he reminds himself, glancing down at his phone. The reservations he placed for the restaurant aren’t for another hour and a half. He has plenty of time to walk back to your apartment and change so he can take you out for the night, and the thought of taking you out for the night makes all of the frustration he’s feeling absolutely disappear, entirely overshadowed by the giddiness tingling through his limbs and the nerves that tighten his chest.

Tonight.

He twists his hands in front of his body, eyes catching on a convenience store at the corner of the block, a wide range of chocolates and flowers on display at the main window. With only a moment’s hesitation, he speeds up his pace, flinging open the door to the convenience store and beelining right to the dwindling Valentine’s Day display, weathered down by other frantic partners who were late to get their beloved gifts.

He lets out a relieved puff of air when he sees that your favorite flowers and chocolates are still available, although he’s a bit irate because the flowers aren’t as healthy as they should be, but he supposes it’s his own fault. Of course they're not going to be in perfect shape after being on display all day—if he wanted perfect flowers, he should’ve bought and brought them to you first thing in the morning.

Which he could have done if it weren’t for Kunikida, he thinks bitterly, deciding to place all of the blame on his coworker instead.

He drops the flowers and chocolates at the cash register, where an older man is working, and Dazai pulls out his wallet, flipping through to grab a few yen and place them on the counter.

The older man lets out a bit of a chuckle as he scans the chocolates and the flowers. “You’re a bit late, aren’t you, boy?” he notes. “Can’t have a happy lady at home, I know mine is angry as a bull. Hope you have more than this to appease the girl.”

Dazai winces and then mutters, “She’s not angry, I got pulled into work. She understands.”

It sounds pathetic even to his own ears. The man finds it amusing, evidently, from how he has to smother another laugh as he gets Dazai his change.

“Mine said she was fine with it too,” he says, “but I know I’m coming home to the cold shoulder. They never say what they mean, son.”

Dazai’s mood falters again, the giddiness and nerves slipping away into something colder because he’s feared since he left this morning that you would be bitter over him having to go into work today. And he knows deep down that you’re not like that, that if you say it’s fine, it really is fine most of the time, but a part of him can’t help but wonder if you’re only saying it because you don’t want to stress him out even more, because he’d made it abundantly clear this morning that he wasn’t happy.

“There you go,” the older man passes over his change and the flowers and chocolates. “Good luck.”

Dazai can barely even bring himself to give the man a proper thank you, making his way back out of the convenience stores with the flowers and chocolates in hand. His eyes flicker down to his phone again, catching the time before he continues down the street—the pit stop had only taken a few minutes, but Dazai is doubly anxious to get back home to you now. Not just because he’s worried that you’re not quite as okay with it as you’ve made yourself out to be, but also because he misses you and just wants to get back home to you, this day has been too long and it’s been especially hellish and jarring because he woke up this morning thinking he’d get to spend the entire day with you.

He’s ready to get home to you. He’s ready to take you out to dinner. He’s ready to take you down to the gardens and he’s ready to-

God, he’s ready to propose. After all of these damn years, he’s finally ready and he will not let a shitty day at work ruin that for him. He still has the whole night, and that’s what’s important because…

He stares at his hand, where a droplet of water had splashed against his skin. A dreadful feeling arises, dark and slithering as it spreads through him. He turns his gaze up to the dark sky—dark because the sun has set, yes, but he realizes now, with a pit in his gut, that it’s also because storm clouds seem to be gathering above the city. He hadn’t even noticed them in his pitiful spiral, nor had he noticed the way the wind had picked up.

He hardly has time to react before the rain comes down. Hard. Torrential. He stands on the sidewalk, too riddled with shock and disbelief to even move for cover. He stares ahead, wondering just how much more terrible this day can get. He’s never been a believer of Murphy’s Law or any of those other dubious, paranoia-induced “laws of nature,” but he’s severely starting to question his standing on it because of all days, of course it’s today where it seems that the entire universe must be against him.

He stares at the drenched flowers he had just bought you, crumpled and ruined from the force of the rain—he can’t even bring himself to feel frustrated, if anything he’s starting to feel a bit numb with exhaustion, half-certain that there’s a god up there sabotaging him. He tosses the flowers in a nearby garbage can along with the soggy box of chocolates in his other hand, and almost robotically, he makes his way to stand under an overhang, pulling out his phone to call you.

You pick up after the first ring, you always do.

“Osamu?”

“Can you pick me up?” Dazai asks, voice hoarse and empty.

“... Of course. Where are you?”

•••

The car ride has been damningly silent and Dazai feels bad because you’ve tried to make conversation with him but he can’t bring himself to speak. You’ve given up by now though, resorting to just focusing on the road, occasionally sparing him concerned glances. His head is starting to hurt and he fears that if he says something his voice might crack, so instead he just leans his head against the passenger seat window, letting the cool glass spread through his brain and ease the pain as you intertwine your fingers with his.

“We’re never going to make the reservation,” Dazai finally decides to speak up, voice sounding cold and distant even to his own ears. He nearly flinches—he would’ve preferred it to crack than sound so frigid and aloof.

The rain pouring down is torrential, lightning webbing across the dark sky and wind howling outside. Already, there’s been road closures, the twenty minute drive from the Agency to your apartment has taken twice as long as it usually takes and you’re still stuck in bumper to bumper traffic trying to take the long way around to the complex. The reservation is set for forty minutes from now, and it’ll take nearly as long to get to your apartment at this rate, and then Dazai still has to dry off and change from work, and then you have to drive to the restaurant which would've taken another twenty minutes without traffic.

Not that it matters anyway, the storm has already destroyed his plans for after dinner, which was the whole point of the dinner anyway, but still, he would have at least liked to bring you to a nice dinner for Valentine’s Day.

He wonders if this is all meant to be a sign, and the thought makes his chest ache because of course when he finally thinks he’s ready to take the next step in his relationship with you—one that he knows you’ve been waiting patiently for four years now but his own hangups about himself have stopped him from ever doing anything about it—this happens. And you’ve never pressured him about it, you’ve never even brought it up to him because you know the topic makes him uncomfortable, but he’s seen the way you look at all of the happily married couples who come into the cafe when you meet him there for his lunch break and he’s seen the way you sometimes glance down at your own empty finger and Dazai thinks he’s ready.

Against all odds, he thinks he’s ready—he bought you a ring, he planned out the whole proposal. Anxiety has been eating him alive all week as the days led up to this and now that the day is here, everything just goes wrong. He was going to bring you to the aquarium, because he knows you love to watch the dolphins and the penguins but that was ruined because of work. He was going to take you out to dinner at Le Normandie in Naka, because he’d seen you looking at the menu all longingly a few weeks ago, but that was ruined because of the road closures and traffic. And then he was going to bring you down into Yamashita Park, over to the flower gardens where there was supposed to be a band playing, because they always do on Valentine’s Day, and he wrote up everything, a long and flowery speech about how you’ve shown him what it’s like to really live, what it’s like to be human, but that was ruined by the storm.

All the preparations he made, all of the plans he had, all of it gone to ruin. Just like that.

And now he’s doubting how ready he actually is.

He really does wonder if this is a sign, a warning, even—higher powers telling him not to condemn you to a life with him because what sort of sane person would want a future with someone who’s spent most of his life trying to kill himself? Dazai has more issues than he’s worth and he’s still half-convinced that you don’t know what you’re getting into even though you’ve been with him for four years and have seen some of his most egregious lows. You’ve had to cut him down from the noose, fight him for the blade he held against his skin, and Dazai doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to fully free himself of the dark thoughts tearing apart his brain.

And you deserve better than a future with someone who’s fickle about living and unable to effectively combat the dark thoughts that plague his mind. This is the world’s attempt at reminding him of that before he makes a mistake.

You draw him from his spiraling thoughts as you squeeze his hand gently, lifting his hand to press your lips against his knuckles and Dazai feels even worse because why are you comforting him when he’s the one who ruined your Valentine’s Day.

“Let’s order takeout then,” you say easily, giving him a warm smile that should have made him feel more at ease but instead it only makes him feel worse because you shouldn’t have to settle for takeout on Valentine’s Day, especially when he planned such a nice day out. “I’m craving pizza. We can curl up on the couch and watch a movie instead.”

Dazai is unconvinced.

“Don’t give me that look,” you complain, but you’re still smiling and Dazai is finding it hard to keep up his sullen attitude with you looking at him like that. “There’s a new horror movie I wanted to watch, it’s available for streaming now.”

“This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go,” Dazai murmurs, finally intertwining his fingers with yours, rubbing a circle with his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Let’s make the most of it anyway,” you tell him, giving him another radiant smile, and Dazai feels a bit like a fool—he’s never listened to the warnings from higher powers before, so why the hell should he now? When you give him another reassuring squeeze as you rest your joined hands back down on the console, turning your attention back onto the road, his chests lighten and the creeping doubts start to trickle away.

He thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’ll all work out anyway.

•••

It takes less than an hour for his slim hopes to be crushed yet again.

Dazai stares at the food in front of him, too numb to even think to go chase after the delivery driver and tell him that he got the order wrong. You’re standing somewhere to the side, looking even more concerned—not because of the food, because of him, and Dazai knows that he should reassure you and tell you that everything is fine but he can’t even muster the strength to speak the words.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, reaching out to grab his hand. He doesn’t even intertwine his fingers with yours, but you’re undeterred, clutching his hand tightly, and he knows he’s being unfair to you but he just doesn’t even know what else to do. “Osamu, it’s fine, really. It’s just some food.”

“You don’t even eat any of this food,” Dazai says, voice tight and more than a bit frustrated. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take, the morning had started off so nice waking up to you fast asleep on his chest and every passing second since then has just gone further and further downhill. “Not one thing has gone right today, and they can’t even get one order done correctly. It’s not fine, I-”

Dazai’s eyes flutter shut when you reach up to cup his cheeks between your hands, squishing his face gently before leaning in to press your lips against his. He sighs against your lips, the frustration slowly starting to dissipate as you rest your forehead against his, stealing one, two, three more kisses before finally pulling back a bit to speak.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him again, and Dazai thinks he should be the one reassuring you because it’s your Valentine’s Day that has been utterly ruined but he only relaxes into your touch, soaking up all of the comfort you offer him. “I have pizza bagels in the freezer, we can throw them in the oven. Honestly, I’ve been tempted to make them all day, anyway, but I wanted to wait for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“... Yeah?” Dazai asks quietly, and you give him that soft, soothing smile that always puts his nerves at ease. He lets out another puff of air, nodding. “Okay, I’ll put them in.”

He steals another kiss from you, and then another, and the tension in his shoulders finally begins to melt when he feels you giggling against his lips, shooing him away to go put the pizza bagels in the oven.

Just as the thought crosses his mind, that maybe the night is still salvageable, he reaches for the door to your freezer and as his fingers curl around the handle, the power goes out. Thunder shakes your apartment complex, lightning webs the sky outside, and the wind outside becomes even more treacherous. And with it, the ability to use the oven to make the pizza rolls you want disappears.

You don’t say anything. Neither does he. Dazai thinks it should be comical at this point but he can find no humor in it, his throat tight and clogged with a million unwelcome emotions. He swears there must be someone up in the heavens laughing at him, finding entertainment in his misfortune and misery, and maybe he deserves it for all of the sins he’s committed in the past but he wishes that they wouldn’t drag you into this.

He casts a miserable look in your direction, unsure if you even notice because you’re already at work trying to fumble to light a few candles, and Dazai is so tired that he thinks he might die. All he had wanted was to take you on a nice day out, ending the night with dinner and a stroll through the gardens at Yamashita before finally gathering the nerve to get down on one knee in front of you, showing you the ring he’d been so nervous buying and-

And then he pauses.

Where is the ring?

The thought dawns on him so damningly that he feels physically ill, realizing that he hadn’t felt the familiar weight in his pocket earlier when walking home from the Agency, nor had he noticed it when he slipped his jacket off and laid it on one of the kitchen chairs. He rushes over to where he had left his jacket, panic spreading through him so intensely that he can hardly think straight, ignoring how you call his name, worried.

His chest tightens, blood running cold as he fumbles through the pockets of his jacket trying to figure out which one he left it in only to realize that it’s not snugged safely in any of them. Dazai thinks he might throw up, wondering if it had fallen out when he took his jacket off at the office, or if it had fallen out while he was walking to work, or when he stopped at the convenience store and pulled out his wallet, or when he was walking home. If it was the latter three, the ring is gone and he’ll probably never see it again, and he probably should take that as a sign from god to not condemn you to a life with him.

“Osamu?” you ask, voice soft and cautious as you make your way over to him, obviously sensing his distress.

Dazai wants to cry. Or maybe he wants to laugh. He can’t tell. He leans his elbows onto the counter, hiding his face in his hands, and then he decides to laugh, or maybe he’s crying, he’s not sure honestly, but his shoulders are shaking and you’re wrapping your arms around his waist. Dazai wants to melt into you and he wants to tell you just how abysmally terrible this day has been but he can’t without telling you what he had planned and that only makes him more miserable.

You coax his face out from where it’s hiding against his hands as you stroke his hair, pressing your lips to his shoulder, and then his temple, and as soon as he turns his face to you, you’re cupping his cheeks in your hands, thumbs wiping away the wetness streaming down his cheeks, and he realizes distantly that he must’ve been crying. God, when was the last time he cried before this? He doesn’t even remember.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, keeping your voice soft as if to not startle him.

He doesn’t want to answer, so he doesn’t. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face into the crook of your neck, hiding himself from view again. As always, you take it in stride, wrapping your arms around him, one hand coming up to cup the back of his head and hold him close, lips pressing against the top of his hair. And Dazai is still so frustrated—he’s so frustrated and upset with himself and upset with the world, but as soon as he’s wrapped tight in your arms, it becomes increasingly hard to remain focused on all of the negative thoughts.

“I’m so tired,” is all he can say, voice hoarse and cracking, blunt nails digging crescents into your back as he clings to you desperately.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. He’s so tired. He just wanted this to be a nice day, and he wanted to finally push himself into giving himself to you entirely, because it’s what he wants. It’s what he wanted. He wanted to be yours and he wanted you to be his. Officially. But if the world really is trying to warn him against it, he’s thinking that maybe he should heed its warnings for once—for your sake, because he’s sure that anyone tied to him must be cursed.

“Let’s go lay down,” you tell him softly, carding your fingers through his hair gently. The motion is so soothing that it nearly makes his eyes droop shut, exhaustion seeping deep through his bones. “Os-”

There’s a harsh knock at your door.

Dazai’s eyes slide shut again, frustration coming back tenfold because he can’t even have a single moment with you without it going horribly wrong. You sigh as you break yourself free from him and Dazai longs to be back in your arms instantly, the weight of the day bearing down on him twice as heavily without you there to share the burden with him.

“I’ll go get the door,” you tell him, leaning up on your toes to press your lips to the corner of his. “Go lay down, I’ll join you in a second.”

“No,” Dazai says, capturing your lips in a real kiss briefly before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll get the door. You go change into your pajamas.”

“You sure?” you ask him, concern clear in your eyes as you look up at him.

Dazai only nods, pressing his lips to your forehead before ushering you off into the bedroom. You cast him one more worried look but Dazai shoos you away pointedly before making his way over to the door, frowning a bit because who the hell is showing up at your door this late? He thinks that if it’s the restaurant that sent the wrong food, then Dazai might just slam the door in the delivery man's face because the damage has already been done and Dazai is feeling petty.

But no. It’s not the delivery man standing outside your apartment with the right food this time. Rather, it’s an anxious looking Atsushi and a stressed Kunikida. Dazai’s eye twitches a bit—as if his day hadn’t been ruined enough with work, he swears to god that if they're about to bring even more to him on top of dragging him away from you all day, someone might die.

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi sounds absurdly relieved at the sight of the man but Dazai’s expression doesn’t budge, waiting for them to explain why they were interrupting his night with you. “We were just leaving work and-I wish I’d seen it sooner, I’m sorry-I would’ve come sooner but-I mean we tried to call and text but-”

Dazai has no idea what Atsushi is talking about, so he drags his eyes from the anxious boy up to Kunikida, waiting for a proper explanation. Kunikida’s lips twist when Dazai looks at him and Dazai thinks the man has no right to look at him that way after being the root cause of how awful his day.

Suddenly, Dazai catches sight of the familiar velvet box sitting in Kunikida’s hand, and he’s not sure what amalgamation of emotions rocks his body—fear, relief, apprehension—but he doesn’t like it, reaching out to snatch the box from Kunikida and cradle it to his chest, watching the two of them uneasily.

“You moron,” Kunikida snaps, careful to keep his voice low, but not low enough because horror shoots through Dazai when Kunikida continues with, “why didn’t you say you were-”

“Lower your voice,” Dazai says, panicking, casting a glance back toward where you’re still getting changed in the bedroom.

“Why didn’t you say you were proposing?” Kunikida finishes in a whisper, voice still a sharp hiss. “If you’d mentioned that I would’ve-”

Dazai feels flustered, and he does not want to answer and admit that he hadn’t thought it would make a difference. Luckily—or maybe unluckily, he concedes—he doesn’t have to answer because he hears you making your way out of the bedroom.

“Osamu?” you call curiously, “Is that Kunikida-kun and Atsushi-kun?”

Dazai’s eyes widen when he realizes that he has nowhere to hide the ring as you come around the corner from the hall. He promptly slams the door in both of his coworkers’ faces without even the sparest thank you, ignoring their surprised yelps as panic begins to spread through him, doing his best to hide his hands behind his back when he turns around to face you.

And then-

Then he hesitates.

The excuse on his lips about last minute mission briefing or Dazai having to sign off on a time-sensitive report dies when his eyes fall upon where you’re standing, dressed in your fuzzy pajamas with your arms wrapped around your waist and a confused expression painted on your face. The only lighting in the room is the few dim candles that you set up once the power went out, and the soft ambience casts an ethereal glow over your face. He thinks, not for the first time, that you might be heavenly, an angel sent to guide him on the path of good because how could he ever allow himself to fall back into his old, tainted habits without tarnishing you as well, and tarnishing you is simply unacceptable.

All of the doubts that have risen throughout the day wash away as he looks at you, and he wonders, briefly, how he could’ve ever had any doubts? Dazai, for all of his insecurity and fears of commitment, wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He does. He knows it so thoroughly that he can feel it in his bones; he doesn’t want anyone else, he doesn’t want to be alone, he wants you. He wants to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night, he wants to lounge around on the weekends because you’re both too lazy to get out of bed and do something productive, he wants to be there for your lows when you’re so overwhelmed with work that you can hardly think straight much less properly take care of yourself and god, against all odds, he wants you there for his too, when he feels like he’s being consumed by his own thoughts, spiraling down a dark and never-ending train that might not be as dark and never-ending with you there as a light to guide him out of it.

“Marry me,” he says, breathless, voice laced with desperation.

You stare at him, eyes wide. He stares back, frozen, unsure of what to do because this was not how this was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be extravagant, romantic, like you deserve, not some half-assed spur of the moment proposal. The words hang heavily in the air between the two of you, but he forces himself to push forward, too far in deep to back out now.

He fumbles as he tries to shift the velvet box into one hand to bring it in front of him and show you. He drops it. Of course he does. Everything else has gone wrong today so why not this too? But still, he pushes forward, kneeling down to scoop up the ring box and prop himself up on one knee in front of you, throat swollen and tight as he opens up the box to show you the ring inside of it. He’s holding it backwards. Of course he is. So he fixes it promptly, swiveling it around with trembling fingers, waiting anxiously for you to respond. Or even just react.

You haven’t budged from where you’re standing a few feet away.

What if you say no? God, the thought hadn’t even crossed his head but now his heart starts to sink from his chest down to his feet because you’re not moving and you’re not saying anything and he doesn’t know if you’re just processing his words or if you’re trying to figure out the best way to reject him.

He starts to fumble out words. “This was not how this was supposed to happen,” he admits, speaking so quickly that he can barely understand himself. “It was supposed to be a nice day, we were gonna go to the aquarium to see the dolphins and penguins, dinner at Le Normandie and then go down to the gardens at the park, and there was supposed to be a band and flowers and I had a whole speech ready and it definitely was not supposed to be like this but everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong, but I want to marry you and I don’t want to wait anymore, and I’m sorry that this is a shitty proposal, you deserve better than this. And I’m probably making it worse, I should have just waited for another day, but-”

But please say yes, he wants to say, but he can’t force the words out; he can only stare at you, expression more open and vulnerable than he thinks he’s been in his entire life. And he realizes, a bit horrified, that you could ruin him right now—he’s laid his heart out on a platter and it’ll only take one swift motion for you to crush it in hand and he thinks he’s terrified but-

All of the air is ripped from his lungs with a harsh oof. In an instant, his back is to the floor and you’re on top of him and Dazai is staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes, trying to figure out what exactly happened.

“You’re so stupid, Osamu,” you cry out and to Dazai’s horror, he realizes that you’re crying, hands propped up on his chest to brace yourself up, tears pooling in your eyes and streaming over your cheeks and dripping onto his own face. “Is this what you’ve been so upset about all day? I don’t need any of that, all I need is you.”

Oh. Dazai can’t breathe, and it’s not because you’re on top of him it’s because your words are processing and he’s realizing that-are you saying that-

“Of course, I’ll marry you, you idiot.”

He lets out a sharp exhale, a puff of air that he does not have in his lungs, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling—elation, relief, exhilaration, all of the above—but he does know that he’s never felt anything like it before and he doesn’t want it to go away. Ever. Dazai swears he sees a flash of a camera from the window, and he swears doubly that he hears Yosano let out a hoot of a cheer and Kunikida hushing her, dragging her away, but he can’t even bring himself to care.

Yeah, Dazai thinks to himself, eyes sliding shut as he rests his head back against the floor, the first genuine smile of the day tugging to the edge of his lips as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, clutching at his shirt, sniffling and hiccuping over each breath. He wraps an arm around your waist, using his free hand to slip the ring out of the box and slide it onto your finger. You cry harder. He kisses the top of your head, wondering how he could ever have any doubts or hesitations.

He could definitely spend the rest of his life like this.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai fluff #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu fluff #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader

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lo1k-diamonds · 10 months ago

Text

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart.

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

563 notes · View notes

stevesbipanic · 10 months ago

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@steddielovemonth Day 13: Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask @steddieas-shegoes

It was hard for Eddie sometimes, Valentine's Day. Everyone else getting chocolates and flowers from that special person. His friends going on dates or the people he wishes he could take out having a pretty girl on their arm.

Valentine's Day of 1987 was just the same as any other year. He said goodbye to his Uncle who had a rare morning shift at the plant. He ate his cereal straight from the box and watched the morning cartoons. He didn't bother calling the boys, they all had plans. He heard a knock at the door. He contemplated learning a new song today.

Wait.

He heard a knock at the door?

Eddie got up quickly, maybe one of the gremlins needed driving to someplace for a date, was probably Red.

"Steve?"

"Eddie! Good you didn't have plans!" Steve said letting himself in moving past Eddie.

"Um no I didn't, wait shouldn't you have plans?"

"Why?"

"Cause it's Valentine's Day, I'd have thought Hawkins resident bachelor would have plenty of dates today."

"I wouldn't make plans on your birthday, Eds." Steve said like that was obvious, like that didn't make Eddie heart foolishly flutter. Oh, also, yes he should mention today was also his birthday, another reason the day was hard to spend alone.

"You didn't have to do that, Stevie, I was fine just hanging out here really."

"Eds, I know what it's like spending your birthday alone. Trust me I'd much rather spend today with you than any of the girls that flirt with me to waive rental fees. Anyway, I've got your favourite snacks, and your favourite movies, and Mrs Henderson baked us a cake!"

Steve's smile was infectious and pretty soon Eddie was smiling too, which he never could help in Steve's presence. It was the best birthday and best Valentine's Day to date. Beaten only by the following year when they celebrated their first anniversary.

#love these boys #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddielovemonth

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justanothervoreblog · 10 months ago

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A Date for Valentine's

You would always tell yourself that Valentine's Day was for suckers. People who needed a single day to celebrate love. As if saying that made the day any less lonelier. This year, you decided to get with the holiday and put yourself out there. Luckily you managed to find someone who feels exactly the same way that you did.

You meet up with him and things are going great. If you had ever believed in the power of Cupid’s arrow, it was now. He was funny and relatable, and he knew all of your favorite bands and video games. Not to mention he wasn't that bad to look at either! Things were going so well that you decided to say yes when he invited you over. After all, your Valentine's Day was going well, so why end it now?

The good vibes continue all the way to his apartment. Although you do notice that he's unusually hungry. Odd considering you watched him swallow down three pizzas, but people were quirky like that. Besides, you are far too focused on the dirty talk that he was doing. Saying things like “I can't wait to eat you up” or “You look delicious”. One that particularly got you was stripping you down and licking every inch of your body. That one had your skin tingling!

Once you stepped out of the car, it was a blur. You don't know how two people could walk and make out at the same time but you made it work. Up three flights of stairs, pushing each other against the walls, tearing each other's clothes off, the works. Your hair was ragged by the time you had reached his door. Hot and bothered couldn't nearly describe how you felt.

Inside the door, the two of you traded kisses and hickeys to the couch. After some playful wrestling, he ends up on top of you. You are expecting more to come, but what comes next is not in your horoscope. He makes some comments about how delicious you look and how he can't wait to get you inside. You have no idea what he's talking about, frankly because you thought you would be bottoming. However, when his mouth opens wider than it should, saliva dripping down from his teeth, you realize that this wasn't just kinky talk.

What comes next is a smelly mouth and an invasive tongue. It looks over everything. Your face, your ears, the back of your neck. You pass into a tight pink tunnel, warmed by the air coming from below. The only thing you can hear is the steady gulping from your would-be date and now-turned predator. He didn't have any issue with turning you into a Valentine's Day meal. And with every gulp, that becomes more of your reality.

You don't know how long you spend in the tunnel. You pass by a very loud heartbeat as it slams in your ear. Eventually, you push past a tight ring of muscle into what had to be the smelliest place on earth. His stomach reeks of the pizza he had devoured. And soon it would reek of you. Your head, shoulders, and your upper body all slide in quickly. Your legs kick weakly on the outside and steadily more and more of your body is becoming wet and slimy.

Eventually, your shoes are taken off, that tongue wraps around your wet socks, and what's left of you in the world is gone. You feel your legs travel down his throat as you curl into a ball. With a steady thump, the date is over and the final course, you, was served. On the outside, your date rubs over his belly content with yet another helpless romantic lured in on Valentine's Day. He taught you about how love hurts and that this way you two will be together forever. Or something like that, it's muffled through the churning of the stomach walls as well as the gurgling.

As you settle into your temporary home, a bittersweet thought comes into your mind. You still weren't spending Valentine's alone. You would be with your pred, for as long as it takes for him to digest you. As the stomach walls squeeze around you and press all of the air out of the chamber, a soft smile plays on your lips. You gently pass out as that huge burp vibrates the apartment.

There were worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day.

Happy Voretine's Day ❤️❤️❤️

#male prey #male pred #male vore #prey pov #vore story #m/m vore #ambiguous vore

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nouvxllev · 9 months ago

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how would you spend your valentines?

Pairing: J.O Characters x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which jo characters spend valentines with you

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: just fluff honestly

a/n: holy shit febs ending and im only posting this now. mb yall!!

masterlist

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horrid day

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.0k

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"Thing."

A loud thud was made from across the appendages cabinet, accompanied by a more louder door-slam and the menacing steps of combat boots that's probably worn from someone who looks too big for them came after.

Light appeared from his sight and it'd be much better if he died suffocated inside this damn cabinet rather than being forced to look at something, someone rather, being the next satan in line.

Wednesday stared at the hand, her grip on the knob tight as she watched Thing lie flat on the wooden surface, looking like he just got stabbed with something invisible.

"Accompany me to this ludicrous trip I have no idea why I planned for myself." Her tone was calm but it seemed like she was about to subtract one of his digits if he didn't comply.

'Why should I--'

The phrase 'seeing life flash before my eyes' would be an understatement for Thing when he was met with possibly the sharpest blade on earth crossing one of his thumbs.

"Thing you will accompany me or I swear to deities, I will force you to crawl to the depths of hell and its rings back and forth until you've reach exhaustion and blisters on your skin."

Her voice cut through his confidence, her blade almost puncturing a hole.

So slowly, he nodded. If he even can. He just nodded with his palm up straight and his fingers curled.

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And that's how Wednesday ended up on the busiest day on the street of Jericho, a hand not attached to her arm but walking on the damn sidewalk with a damn leash and a damned thought in her head.

If only it didn't seem like it was the day of giving every flower and chocolate someone could ever possibly find in a 10-mile vicinity of this horrid town then give it to you as some gift or whatever you called it, maybe she wouldn't be roughhoused more times than she could count by too many people on too many stores.

Wednesday scowled at everyone, even more at the couples who strolled in hand in hand, her fingers firmly gripping the leash that was attached to Thing.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered under her breath, shooting an irritated glance at Thing, who looked like he was trampled and being trampled to death. "Why did I even decide to follow through with this."

'Because you saw y/n holding a bunch of bouquets and you wanted to out-do everyone who ever gave her a flower because of some reason you don't know but it gives you a weird tingling sensation in your head to the point you want to be ranked first on the lists of serial killers,' Thing signed.

Wednesday kept walking, tugging at the leash. "Nonsense." She whispered to herself. Her voice softened a little bit, more vulnerable even as she looked forward. It didn't matter, nor did she care whether you got flowers, even the most extravagant ones didn't bother her. It didn't. It definitely did not.

But why did she even go here if it didn't?

"I am not trying to out-do anyone. I simply… want to make a statement." She stopped, her steps coming to a close while Thing raised what passed for eyebrows in his form.

Every shop inventory was sold out, even the shops that sold the flowers at an extremely high rate it'd be better if you bought a house at that point and crowds seem to lessen by the time Wednesday reached the last flower shop.

She could get chocolates, but why give you more chances of dying of diabetes?

'Wednesday, you know what you have to do.'

"Thing, please, do not." The grip on the leash explicitly tightened, almost as if she was going to rip the entire thing apart. She was standing strong with her shoulders still, but her mind was only one sign away to break down.

'You have to crochet a bouquet for y/n.'

She bent down and grabbed Thing by his wrists, clutching his body like it was the last thing on earth that was going to make her problems of a slight romantic gesture go away, her perfectly manicured nails digging onto his skin.

"I will find the nearest laboratory and pray to God there's an abundance of Promethium to douse you into," Wednesday hissed between clenched teeth. The tips of her fingers turned white as she paced back and forth, keeping Thing within sight, his body slumping from the lack of oxygen.

Thing repeatedly tapped on her thumb, his own nails scratching Wednesday's skin as a plead for mercy, his complexion turning white under Wednesday's firm grip. 'I'll help you! I'll help you,' he tapped, desperately.

Thing bounced to the floor after a suffocating release, extending his fingers out, noticing the young Addams' nails leaving faint imprints on his skin, even little cuts starting to form around them.

"Fine. I'll..." she stammered, her words drawing out as if she was disgusted by the mere thought and weighed down by hesitation, "I'll crochet a bouquet for y/n."

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You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you opened your locker to see probably a hundred polaroids of you drop to the floor and a hand-written letter laying flat on the surface with dried flowers.

It was safe to conclude that you were either, a, being stalked or, b, someone was planning your death and this was just a cute little 'one day notice' from the murderer.

But you knew it was from Wednesday. No sane person that wasn't an Addams wont write their letters so terrifyingly romantic and then send it in blood with their favorite flower species being black dahlia and probably a hex written to curse all your past and future generations if you don't comply.

You can handle a fuck ton of flowers to save a closing flower shop and a shit ton of chocolates to outdo Willy Wonka's own chocolate factory, but you definitely can not handle a possible fight between Wednesday Addams.

And that's why you're here now, at Wednesday's doorstep, your hand trembling against the doorknob, and your feet ready to bolt out of Nevermore and probably book a flight to whatever country you needed to escape her wrath.

"Wednesday, look, I don't know what I did to you or your family but I'm really so so so sorry!" You rambled, eyes closed as your voice trembled, turning the door just slightly until it fully opened.

The creak of the door echoed throughout the room and your mind, like it was playing tricks with you or something to amp up your fear.

You opened your eyes to find not a thousand knives surrounding you and a bomb threat immediately attached to a chair but rather Wednesday standing there with something wrapped around her fingers. Her expression was unreadable unlike the many times it wasn't to you.

"What are you apologizing for?" she finally spoke, her voice monotone as she walked up to you. She looked... almost nervous? You didn't know if it was a ruse or she was actually nervous.

"I... I don't know exactly," you stammered, "I just thought, you know, I might've done something to upset you, and I really didn't mean to."

Wednesday's eyebrows arched slightly, a crease forming in her forehead.

"Okay, look, if someone writes 'meet me where satan sits or I will cover your flesh in slits' in, what seems to be, their blood I can't really help it but apologize and be so damn terrified you know?!'"

Wednesday's expression softened slightly at your explanation, "Ah, yes, I can see how that might be… alarming to most people like you."

She held out what she had been clutching in her fingers, a crocheted small bouquet of flowers all tied together by a ribbon "I do sincerely apologize for the… slightly murderous approach." Wednesday Addams, apologizing? "I intended it a like to a gesture of affection people seem to be giving out these days, though I may have overdone it."

What is happening to the world?

You blinked. Blinked more than a hundred of times now ever since you entered the room. You were unsure if you were dreaming or Wednesday Addams was actually showing the tiniest bit of softness towards you. On valentines.

Mouth hung open, you took the bouquet from her hands, your skin grazing hers as she lowered her arms back to her sides. You knew Wednesday wouldn't be the one to crochet, let alone to any of this, but there was so much detail and effort put into the bouquet, it's hard to believe she did it all alone.

"Thank… thank you, Wends!" You smiled, beaming even, "kinda unexpected of you." You turned the bouquet over in your hands, examining every thread, "didn't know you were joining in this Valentines."

This would be fine. Just fine. Just two friends greeting eachother on Valentines, and giving flowers to them.

If you didn't have the biggest crush on Wednesday Addams yet.

You couldn't contain the grin that spread across your face till you actually looked at the bouquet in your hands, gripping it with such excitement. It was real. This moment was real, and you weren't stuck in a daydream you're having in class. This was actually happening.

"Why'd you do all of this?"

You looked at Wednesday who seemed to have her own confused expression, as if you caught her off guard.

"I don't... I don't know."

Maybe you'd take a risk after all this valentines.

You took a step forward, letting the bouquet drop to the ground where Thing was standing the whole time, assuming a companion of some sorts for Wednesday.

"Do you allow me to touch you?"

She nodded, you inched a little closer.

"Allow me to hold you?"

She nodded, her eyes furrowing and her body almost hesitating, you hold her as if she was something fragile given to you.

"Allow me to talk to you as such?"

She nodded, you whispered to her. Your tone was soft, yet it was filled with hesitation and fear of being pushed away.

"Allow me to hold your hand?"

She nodded, you reached out for her hand, intertwining your fingers with her own as if it was your own soul you were protecting from ivy.

"Allow me to say something I never think I'd say?"

She nodded, you tightened your grip on her, letting your thumb graze over her cold skin in contrast of your warmth.

"Allow me to love you so, so, dearly?"

She nodded, slowly. It wasn't a question, it was something more than that. An oath.

"And for you to love me back?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible if the both of you weren't so close enough already.

With your trembling hands holding Wednesday's palm, you cupped her face gently.

You allowed your eyes to cross every feature she had, your fingertips memorizing every contour of her face, allow them to be recognized to only you who seemed invested and let the world overlook her beauty, her soul through her dark eyes. As if you were seeing true beauty for the first time.

"May I?"

She was hesitating, she is hesitating. And, fuck, do you want to curse yourself for that.

"It doesn't have to be a kiss on the lips, Wednesday," you murmured softly, letting your words carry out with your actions, "We can take it slow at your pace. Whatever you're comfortable with, I'll do it."

You expected her to pull away, to maintain her usual stoic expression and distance. Yet, she didn't.

She leaned into your touch, her head finding a comfortable spot on your neck. Letting her eyes close, her breath going to your ears like a soft melody on a guitar, your worries slowly going away.

You stood there, holding Wednesday in an embrace you sure you wouldn't let go even if there was a force stretching you apart. Her heartbeat against yours, her arms slowly reciprocating the tightening grip you had on her, the faint smile that slowly graced her ever cold lips, it was nothing yet it was everything.

"I tolerate you." She muttered, her voice mumbled by your shirt yet somehow you heard everything.

A gentle chuckle escaped your lips, your other hand going above her head as you ran your fingers through her hair, "I tolerate you too, Wednesday."

It truly was a horrid day.

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cupid sucks so why not do the job for them?

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.0k

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You hear a door swing open, then a earsplitting slam echoed throughout the whole apartment, hell it even drowned the scream of some horror movie you were watching. Sounds of grumbling and loud stomping made it's way to you, an eerie aura you felt behind your back.

It's concerning how you almost immediately know it's Tara Carpenter.

"Welcome back I guess?" you greeted, a crease in your eyebrows as you turned to look at her, her back being the only thing you see. The potato chips you were about to eat stuck in the air for a moment of time.

The hell is that?

"Looks like cupid shot the wrong person," you chuckled, leaping over the couch to tug at a small arrow lodged behind her, a pop being heard as it came loose. "Why do you have this in your back?"

You hear Tara groan for the millionth time ever since she darkened her own doorstep, "Stupid fucks trying to get me into valentines when I'm clearly stressed about exams!" She turned around, snatching the arrow from your hands and snapping it in half without hesitation.

You flinched, "Aren't your exams not until March?" You jumped back into the couch, the soft cushion dipping as you laid down, your head turning back to the horror movie.

"Ugh, Tara, just tell her the truth," Mindy approached both of you from the kitchen, making her way to the you. "Have a little mercy and don't subject y/n to your lame excuses." She crossed her arms.

"What truth?" You sat up almost immediately, your head snapping to look at Tara with horrified eyes. "Is there something you've been keeping from me, Tara!? I thought we were best friends!" you shrieked.

Tara rolled her eyes, reaching out for your forehead and tipping it back down to the couch, "Dramatic."

Mindy excused herself, your legs retracting as you gave her space to sit beside you, "She's a little miserable because of a certain someone not giving her any valentines gift."

"Oh my God."

"You have a crush!?" You screamed. Almost happy, but then again, you were not. Definitely not happy. When the hell did this happen!?

"Please," Tara groaned, her eyes wrinkling as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "don't call it a crush."

"What the hell am I supposed to call it then?"

"Call it someone I admire," she made her way across the couch, her arms gesturing the both of you to move, "A little."

You hear Mindy give out a little scoff and chuckle, "You've been screaming into your pillow for the past four months of crushing on them."

"Why am I only hearing about this now!?" You exclaimed, a little hurt, yes, or it was more than a little hurt–finding out that the not-really-love-of-your-life-but-she-is-kinda is in love with another person was the type of blow on valentines day that made you want to reach up in the sky and strangle cupid.

Tara sighed, "Because I don't want you teasing me, especially you."

"Then how come Mindy gets to know?" you questioned her, your head leaning back against the armchair while your legs were sprawled on Tara's lap. "It's Min-dy, Tara!"

"I bribed her into telling me," Mindy chimed in with a casual shrug.

You have nothing to do with it nor do you have any right to, but you couldn't help it but feel a tinge of jealousy. People have to feel that emotion some times, right? You were only human, and this was just one of those moments where you'd get jealous for a somehow valid thing.

I mean, you were there when Tara healed from all her scars, you were there when she finally really talked with Sam, you were there when she got accepted into her dream college and even threw a celebration, you were there for Tara through thick and thin, and you never missed a birthday or a special event she had ever since you met her.

To sum it up: you were there for everything! How could some guy, who probably didn't even try as hard as you did, get Tara to fall in love with them!?

Your eyes gazed down to the lower corner of the TV, no longer paying attention to Mia Goth's stunning performance. You've watched this movie a hundred of times if not more, it was one of your favorites that Tara introduced to you next to the Babadook, so it was always an opening for conversations with her.

Now you could only imagine Tara and that, whoever it was, sitting on the same damn couch and talking about some stupid damn conversation and you just have to deal with it.

But it was fine. Tara had someone, someone she truly cared about, and that was a good thing. You were fortunate enough to witness her happiness with that person and have them as a constant presence in her life without any danger, that was a plus.

"Who are they anyway?" you grumbled, the words slipping out almost involuntarily before you could catch yourself.

The couch shifted slightly, Tara and Mindy exchanging knowing glances as you eyed both of them.

"Oh my God," you whispered in horror, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach, trying to face the truth even if it was meant to kill you. "Is it Chad!?"

Tara's face contorted into pure disgust, more disgust than ever while Mindy burst into a hearty laughter, "that is one of the most vile and revolting thing you have ever said to me, what the actual fuck y/n!?"

"Oh, you are disgusting!" Mindy laughed, throwing her head back as Tara's constant "ew" and her laugh filled the room.

"So if it isn't Chad, then who is it!?" You exclaimed, a slight smile coming from your lips as you watched them both.

"No way you're serious." Mindy raised an eyebrow, jumping off the couch and walking to her own room in the apartment, "I'll let the two of you figure this out!" She called out before you hear the door slam shut.

The silence was deafening. More deafening than having noise cancelling headphones jammed into your ears 24/7; it can be relaxing but it also can be so damn nerveracking.

You and Tara were always joined at the hip, no matter the situation was, the both of you almost always seemed to know what was a good conversation for the two of you.

Yet nothing good crossed your mind at this moment. By nothing good you mean having Tara namedrop her crush and have your life crashing down before your eyes.

"It.. it doesn't matter who you love or who is that special someone for you." You stammered, your voice cracking just slightly, hoping Tara wouldn't notice. "I'm just happy you have someone you admire and someone thats so lovely you want to be with them forever." Your fists were clenched as you continued, a soft smile graced your lips, sure, but hurt overcame everything.

"So I really want to get to know the sad and poor victim who had cupid hit Tara Carpenter square in the back," you laugh, turning to her.

You were expecting Tara to just go all in and scream in the top of her lungs her own love of her life and that she doesn't like you (optional).

Instead, she shot you with the most confused and offended look ever as if you just cursed her whole family bloodline through the most foulest of witchcraft thats dated wayback the 15th century.

"Who..." she started, her eyebrows creasing and her face twisting as if she was so done with you, "who else could it be but you!?"

what.

what hte fuck?? is she seirlous??? whathwhawthwhatwhatwhatwhatwhattheactualfuckishappening.

It was safe to say that your world froze. The tilt of the earth became an even number, a fraction maybe, the globes gravitational force flipping and rotating, the world spinning yet it stops every few seconds while your brain tries to process what the fuck just came out of Tara's mouth.

"Me?" you echoed, pointing a hand at yourself, your voice barely a whisper at this point, "you're insane... You're actually crazy."

Tara's expression softened slightly as she turned her whole body to you, her legs crossing and her eyes staring dead center right at you. "I don't want to sit here and just pretend I'm fawning over some guy so that you'd be better off not knowing I love you." She explained, "and I don't want to watch you treat me like any other friend you have when all I ever wanted is to be more than that."

Your mind raced, what was she saying? It was valentines, right? It's February the 14th and not April 1st. Sure, you considered the possibility of Tara liking you, but it was just because one of those manifestation videos you kept seeing on your page and you were too delusional for your own good!

"You can't be serious..." You laughed, chuckled even, taking all of this as a joke, "me? You like like me? Of all people, you chose me?"

Tara crossed her arms, letting out an eye roll and a scoff, "Yes, you! Who else could it possibly be but you? Am I talking to you through them, is that what you think?"

You stayed silent, mouth hung open but words just decided that it wasn't a great time to spill out.

"I... I understand if you don't like me the same way," she started after a while, "I just thought it'd be a great idea to confess now rather than any other day so--"

Tara's words trailed off, voice shaky, and you couldn't bear the thought of letting her finish the sentence with her saying something so foolish. Without another word that came out of her mouth, you closed the distance between the both of you and leaned in, capturing her soft with yours.

You never knew how her lips could be so addicting until today.

She responded eagerly after processing for a bit, her hands finding their way to your waist as she pulled your closer while you raised your hands and cupped her cheeks.

You can feel yourself melting within her body. Her breath was warm against your skin sent shivers down your spine, a feeling that made you think you were everything to her as you felt a smile coming loose from her lips.

She tasted like her perfume, her scent, her chapstick, her clothes, her everything. Her lips were soft, welcoming, and lovely. Tara was everything beauty was under if not more.

The kiss was soft but it lasted longer than it should've. Her palm flat on your waist, only bringing you closer and closer, the heartbeat and rush you felt when your bodies were pressed together like glue, the way Tara's hands grabbed you so possessively as if she'd die if she ever looses another second on your lips, it was perfect. She was perfect.

People fall in love with everything, their first love was nature. You were the same with the majority, you fell in love with everything you see. Your first sunset and sunrise, the first butterfly you saw, your friends, even your first crush. Everything you caught with your very own eyes; you fell in love.

Yet, they weren't your first love. Tara was.

And even if you get to see her everyday, her presence gracing your eyes every time you breath, every time you come alive for another day, you always seem to fall in love with her again and again with no fail.

It only made you so obsessed with her soul.

Now, you finally get to kiss your first love on the day of hearts.

When you finally pulled away, you wished you hadn't.

You looked into Tara's eyes and she looked in yours as she brought her hands to her lips, touching it slightly.

"I never knew," she whispered, smiling.

"I never realized," you admitted, your voice equally as soft as hers while a smile reflected hers.

You would admit, Cupid sucks at their own game. So why not do it yourself?

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cheers to a broken heart

Pairing: Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.4k

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"Hhaaaapppyyy V day, bitches!"

Vada shouted across the heart-littered and Valentines-illed cafeteria, tray in her hands as she approached your table.

The 14th of February

The day where couples unfortunately couldn't get scolded by any passing teacher whenever they show any excessive public affection in the school.

Everyone was either singing a song to someone, couples weirdly somehow getting it on without a teacher scolding them, confessing their love to their crush and getting rejected (which was honestly Vada's favorite past time for Valentines), and everyone being in a lovesick haze that'll only last two days, give or take.

Nick dropped his food on his own tray, sprinkling off bread crumbs from his fingers as he looked up at Vada. "It's your birthday?"

"Vagina day?" You chewed on your food with your left cheek, leaving room for coherent sentences, "Seriously, Vada?"

"Okay, first of all," Vada sat down, her tray making a loud metallic slam as she sat in front if you, "you have to catch me on some next level shit to scream happy vagina day out loud." She held up her hand as she turned to it, "And second of all, come on Nick! We've been bestfriends for ages and you don't even know my birthday isn't until maybe a few months"

"If only I could forget, maybe my wallet wouldn't be in total wreck, and I wouldn't have the urge to start printing money."

Vada shot back, adjusting her chair, "Then who else is going to pay for my stuff on my birthday?"

"You?" Nick suggested, eyebrows knitting themselves together.

"Aren't you the joker?" Vada retorted, an innocent smile tugging on her lips while Nick playfully scowled

You only stared a them, giving a few huffs of a laugh here and there, your hand mindlessly toying with your food while your other arm rests on the table, holding up your slanted face.

You couldn't eat, you could only stare at it and maybe push some vegetables around to make it look like you're eating. You couldn't really be in the right mindset to eat, let alone have the energy to strike up a conversation not after what happened just a few hours ago.

"You good?" Vada looked up at you, concern tainting her face and voice as she stopped eating all together, "You don't really look good."

Nick raised his fork, pointing at you, "She broke up with her boyfriend."

"What!?"

It was wrong. Very, very wrong, but Vada couldn't help the smile that was fighting for dear life not to show.

Holy fuck, this was the best valentines gift ever!

Not that she was happy that you just ended an almost a year relationship with your partner that probably loved you dearly, she just... She just thinks she can love you 10 times as harder.

You put down your fork in defeat, covering you face in your hands, "I don't know what to do... It just—" you stammered, words faltering, "It just came out so suddenly when we were talking."

Vada raised an eyebrow, "you just don't break up with someone out of the blue on valentines. Come on, dude." She tried to sound emphatic, but she was covering her smile like the damn good friend she is.

"I know!" you exclaimed, "I know... I don't know." You picked up your fork once again, "I think I'm in love with someone new, maybe that's why I broke up with him."

Maybe she spoke too soon.

"Nick?" She turned to him, slowly, "Can you join me to get some food?"

Nick chewed, side-eying her, "Your tray isn't even half done—"

"Nick." She inhaled a little too hard, gripping his wrist, "For the love of fucking God, please."

Nick winced while nodding vigorously, "Alright, alright! I'm coming, damn." The both of you stood up, pushing back your chairs while Nick gestured for you to wait.

"Okay," Vada stood in line, glancing back at the table, "who do you think y/n is in love with!? I mean, yeah, we shouldn't probably pry, but Nick, you know better than anyone else that I would literally die for me to be her girlfriend and you know damn well how many sleepless nights I've stayed up to pray for her boyfriends downfall!"

Nick crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Are you actually getting food, or are we just—"

"Of course we're not getting food! I'll just get some water, now, answer my question."

"Vada," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I do not know. If I did, I probably would've told you my thoughts at this point. Y/n hasn't shown any interest in anybody."

Vada nodded, her hand resting on her chin as the line moved, "Yeah, I guess theres that. But y/n is so secretive at times!"

Nick sighed, grabbing Vada by the shoulders and excused people out of the way, "V, just ask her or maybe give her time. She's in a state of a break-up right now."

Vada and Nick returned to the table, Vada looking done as ever and Nick returning to eat his food.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was either Vada has gone insanely mad or she's just trying to do a friendly gesture by selling out every single flower and chocolate shop that Jericho has established and plans to give them all to you to cheer you up just a slight bit. And maybe let you see she was the one of you after all.

Friendly, maybe not so, but inane is on the mark. She just wants to make you happy!

It was already after class, an hour after to be precise, and she was waiting outside for you, phone in hand as she leaned against her car while a luggage—no—a semi-truck of bouquets and chocolates awaited for you in the back seat.

You exited the building, your own phone in your hand as you looked for Vada's bug-eyed car that she bought with her birthday money that Nick contributed atleast 70% of it, wind caught up in your hair as you finally see Vada in the distance, waving to you like she was just some idiot.

The very sight was a sight for sore eyes, endearing even. Her antics always brought a smile to your face at the end of the day, and her very person bringing unwanted butterflies in your stomach. But you wouldn't admit that. You wouldn't admit that Vada was the reason why you broke up with your boyfriend in the first place.

Vada's smile only widened more as you approached her, the small figure waving to you in the distance. You can practically feel her happiness. "I'm surprise you agreed so fast."

"Thought I needed some time to myself after a horrible breakup," you replied, walking over to the passenger seat right in the front while Vada got into the driver's seat.

"By time to myself do you mean time with the amazing and pretty cool Vada Cavell and her car?" She closed the door behind her, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she hooked her legs onto your lap once you were both seated.

You rolled your eyes playfully, letting out a slight scoff, "you're too insufferable for your own good."

Silence overtook her parked car, the outside wind being the only sounds that weren't drowned by the ringing in your ears, but it was the nice type of silence. It was the type of silence that made you feel like you were nothing, a spec of dust even, yet you were having the time of your life with the person you love the most beside you.

Your seat was adjusted to lay back while Vada leaned against the tinted windows with her legs sprawled on top of your lap, probably smoking a joint by the faint smell of weed and ashes filling her car.

You could feel her legs moving, her body sitting up and digging for something in her pockets.

"Vada, you know that I—"

"You don't smoke, yes," Vada's voice, surprisingly low and soft, cut you off. "I get that, I really, really do, and I am all for not breaking your lungs ahead of time." She pulled out a plastic ziplock bag that contained something… a bit more colorful than the regular blunts you'd see.

"…Buuuut," she continued, unlocking the zipper and pulling out the makeshift blunt by her two fingers, "I got you this blunt made up of fruit roll-ups! The inside of it is popping candy. Courtesy of yours truly." She grinned, passing you the candy, "Can't really puff, puff, pass that but it's something you gotta try."

"You're fucking insane, V," you laughed as you shook your head, taking the candy from her hands and putting it against your lips, "it's delicious anyway."

She shrugged, leaning back yet again, "told you so."

It didn't take long for the candy to disappear from your fingers almost immediately, the sweet taste lingering on your tongue, the candy still somehow popping in your ears.

"How do you cut a sandwhich, horizontally or diagonally?" Vada broke the profounding silence, exhaling a puff of smoke as she took the blunt off her lips.

You sat up immediately, a lift in your eyebrows as you looked at her with a concerned grin, "Oh, you are high high."

"Don't overthink it," She sat up, tapping off the ash into the nearby tray beside her floor console, remnants of smoke trailing upwards as she discarded the cig entirely, "Just say whatever comes to your mind."

She intertwined her legs with yours as you both sat up, her arms coming to her knees as she repeated, "Horizontally or diagonally?"

"Horizontally, of course, why would I—"

"Coke or pepsi?"

"Coke."

"Do you pour cereal or milk first?"

"Cereal."

"Why did you break up with your boyfriend?"

"Because I'm in love with you."

"Oh." Shit.

Your eyes widened, if only you were quick to shut your brain and mouth out, or maybe better yet, be both deaf and blind.

It was an understatement to say that panic replaced all your blood cells with the word itself, wishing so damn desperately to take back your words as if it would erase this moment in time and create a new one.

"Oh fuck," you whispered, your other hand ready to completely buck out of her car and sprint to no mans land, or maybe kill yourself. That seemed like the better option out of the others.

"Vada I—" You stammered. The car definitely felt smaller, heavier even. Like it was going to implode within a second. Your lips slightly parted as if you were about to say something, wanted to say something, but nothing came.

"Okay, look—" she gulped, raising her hands, the usual animated gesture while she explained herself.

"I'm… sad? Okay, not sad, that's the truth, you deserve to know it. But!" She exclaimed,, words coming out in a rush, "That's… okay? Not okay for you or for him but it's—" She paused to take a deep breath before continuing, taking your hand with hers, "I finally get to do something I've wanted to do for a very long time without some kind of big consequence."

Vada's fingers traced patterns on the back of your hand, a silent way of asking for permission, a way that made you felt important to the point you almost missed the glint in her soft eyes and a tug on her mouth.

She reached out and gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head a bit, the simple warmth from her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your breath catching in your throat as you looked at her with pure eyes, listening.

"Would it be okay?" She whispered, hesitance evident in her voice, "would it be alright if I…"

Before she could even finish her sentence, you brought your hand up to hers flat on your cheek. With a gentle tug, you pulled her closer with your free arm, the softness of her lips melting against yours as you met them in a gentle kiss.

Both of your hands move over to her shoulders, messaging them slightly as you welcomed Vada's tongue into your mouth, your body tensing almost immediately yet softening when she removed her hands from your face and dragged them down to your waist, pulling you impossibly close to her.

Her lips were gentle, soft, and tender, smiling under yours. She tasted like chapstick mixed with cigarettes, a faint smell of the joint she smoked yet she still smelled so enchanting. You don't know how she does it.

You almost whined when Vada pulled away, familiar eyes staring right back at you. But they looked new. It was filled with love, endearment even, or maybe fondness.

She never looked more beautiful.

It only took a minute of silence before Vada realized what happened. "Are we—are we girlfriends? Well, we just kissed, I mean, I know that, but are we girlfriends girlfriends? I never had a girlfriend before, have you? I mean I guess you did but never a girlfriend. Ohmygod, am I your first girlfriend, holy fuck this really means—"

You laughed before planting a simple kiss on her lips, "Vada, as much as I love your rambling, please don't ruin this moment." You cupped her cheeks, your eyes tracing every single feature she carried.

"Yeah," she nodded, another smile on her mouth, "yeah." She laughed as she shook her head.

"Wait," She stopped you, her hands doing a stop gesture, "but this just technically means that I'm just a rebound? Oh, God, I don't wanna be known as that girl who got with you just hours after you broke up with your boyfriend! What if everyone flames me for it!? Y/n, I love you but wouldn't this ruin your reputation too!? What if they say you cheated on your boyfriend, what if—"

You rolled her eyes and kissed her yet again, "I don't think having a fuck ton of chocolates and flowers stuck inside the backseat of your car and having me in the passenger seat would help your thinking."

"That doesn't really help my situation." She tilted her head, eyebrows creasing.

"I'm saying that we'll keep it hidden, even if you'd be one itch away from telling everyone we're together."

"I wont tell, I promise!" Vada saluted, she always does that. Even before a pinky promise, a salute is always needed.

Not that you didn't feel bad about breaking up with your boyfriend out of the blue, it's just a simple problem that'll lead to a celebration for a broken heart.

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a/n: this was long overdue, sorry i posted it so late!! just seemed like writers block missed me a little bit too much.

#wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x female reader #vada cavell x you #jenna ortega

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koishiro · 1 year ago

Text

# - 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

Satoru Gojo 五条悟

Congratulations, you’ll never be alone again!

He would be infatuated with you

This man (boy) would not hesitate to embarrass himself in front of you

And by that I mean;

He would trip himself up, walk into a door, accidentally bump into you…

He would do the stupidest things all to get your attention

And if it was back when he was a student, I can imagine him calling out a teacher on a mistake or having a smart remark so he could see your smile, especially if it was from his doings

He’d still do that as a teacher himself actually

And if it was valentines?

Expect your desk to be covered in an array of heart shaped chocolate boxes, flower bouquets and many cards

He’d probably include expensive things as well like bracelets, rings, necklaces and earrings

Even if it wasn’t valentines and it was just any other day he’d either leave a note on your desk or a bag of mochi

Be grateful he didn’t devour that shit on the way

And during training?

He could be in the middle of training his students when he’d suddenly stop and just stare at you walking past

Either that or he would show tf off

There’s no inbetween

Poor Yuji, Megumi and Nobara would walk back to their dorms black and blue

He would beg the higher ups to assign you missions together

And you best know he’s going to pick on you

If you’re short? You’re now a portable headrest

If you’re tall? How’s the weather?

“Oh! My little Mochi! How are we today hm? Would you like to know where I was yesterday - I’ll tell you anyway, I happened to stumble upon a sweet shop and found some kikufuku and they had that flavour you like so much so out of the kindness of my heart I thought to buy you some!”

Suguru Geto 下戸傑

You wouldn’t even know this man has a crush on you, he’s that chill

You’d just think he’s really friendly

But saying that, he’d try and spend more time around you

You need to go shopping? He’ll be there to carry your bags

You can’t sleep at 3 in the morning? He’ll be at your door in 5 minutes

And he would (unknowingly to him) take such good care of you

And this man is smooth af while doing it

You’re both walking down a busy street? He’ll have his hand on your lower back

“Wouldn’t want you getting lost now would we?”

Walking next to the road? Not with him around

You’re cold? Here, have his jacket

If you’re both in a room full of people his eyes will automatically search for you, making sure you’re okay and not uncomfortable

And you best know he’ll be right behind you if you are

If someone cuts you off halfway through your sentence? Geto would stare that mf down until they shut up and motions for you to continue

“Stay close to me, there are too many men here staring at you. Can’t let them get any ideas now can we? Unless that’s what you want hm? I’d be forced to change your mind otherwise”

Itadori Yuji いたどりゆうじ

He’d be so nervous around you 🥹

He’s a blushing mess every time you step into the same room as him

Impossibile for him to keep his eyes off you

He just stares at you and smiles :)

But god forgive if you make contact with him-

He passes you a work sheet or a book and you brush fingers? He’ll drop everything

Continues to try and save himself which turns out to be futile considering he can’t stop stuttering out an apology

He’d also overthink every and any interaction you have with each other

That brush of fingers earlier? Was that a sign? Should he do something to confirm this? Eye contact? Should he make eye contact?

He’ll even leave cute little trinkets on your desk that he thought you’d like from his trips

And seeing you smile at that silly little note he left on your desk makes his entire week

Would definitely try and show you how strong he is 110%

You’re walking past the training field?

He’s there lifting Panda with one hand

“O-oh Y/n! What are you doing here? You look really pretty today! - not that you don’t everyday! I just mean that you look extra pretty today but you look extra pretty all the time, I’m running out of compliments…”

Fushiguro Megumi 伏黒恵

Like Suguru, you wouldn’t even know Megumi has a crush on you

…If it wasn’t for Yuji and Nobara of course

Oh hey, I have post on that-

You’re walking past him in the halls? Nobara and Yuji are there poking him and whispering (which probably shouldn’t count as whispering)

“Oh Megumi~ Don’t look now but someone you like is walking behind you~”

Which resulted in the both getting smacked upside the head

And if Gojo caught wind of this?

Gojo would leave bags of mochi or little notes saying how pretty you looked that day and sign it from your beloved Megumi

He’d even try and give ‘parental’ advice

That didn’t end well

I can imagine you walking up to him with the mochi and card in hand to kiss his cheek as a thank you which left him a flustered mess

He just holds his cheek with a straight face as you walk off 😌

Moving on though,

He’d be such a gentleman-

He’d lay his jacket on top of your legs if you’re wearing shorts or a skirt

And if you’re cold? Have his jacket

He notices you didn’t get much sleep that night? Oh look an energy drink magically appeared on your desk

You’re sad? He’ll summon his Divine Dogs

But don’t bring this to his attention, he’ll deny everything

“Hm? You received mochi on your desk? How should I know? - why are you looking at me like that? What are you - oh… yeah, must’ve slipped my mind”

Kugisaki Nobara 釘崎野薔薇

It’d be pretty obvious she likes you

If everyone’s talking over you or you have something to say she’ll have no hesitation in screaming at everyone to shut up

“EVERYONE SHUT UP! Y/N HAS SOMETHING TO SAY THAT I’M SURE ALL OF YOU ARE DYING TO KNOW SO LISTEN UP! …Go on Y/n”

You’re going on every shopping trip she has, which is near daily so good luck 🫡

But don’t worry, she won’t make you carry all her bags no no no

That’s for Yuji and Megumi to deal with

And those shopping trips will lead to sleepovers

Which will lead to her styling your outfits for the next month

Which will then lead to her mixing her clothes with yours justifying it by saying it goes better than any of your other ones

A subtle claim but one nonetheless

She would show you off like it’s nobodies business (except it is)

“Everyone! Look at my partner!! Look how hot they are - HEY DONT YOU CALL THEM HOT! THATS MY JOB”

You have social media? She already follows you

She would drool over every picture

Comments, hearts, the whole shabang

And let’s not forget the daily compliments of course

She’d somehow know if you’re wearing a different shade of lipgloss that day

Or if you’ve changed the colour of your nails

“Ahh you look so pretty today! Your eyeshadow is so cute!! Wait is that my top? Didn’t I tell you it would go well with your skirt, I’m always right! You should keep it, it suits you better anyway”

Toji 杜氏

How in the world did you pull this guy?

He’d be cocky af though

You might not know but if you tell him something about yourself or something you like he’ll have it ingrained into his brain while at the same time pretending not to give two fucks

Like I can imagine him seeing something you mentioned in a previous conversation in a shop window and buys it, gives it to you and says;

“I bought too much so I thought I’d give you the rest.”

“But it’s wrapped?”

“…It came like that”

Mhm sure

And if you asked his opinion on a certain outfit he’d definitely say;

“Who cares? Wear whatever you want, I cant fight”

Okay daddy-

He’d be such a bodyguard though, you cannot convince me otherwise

Like Geto he’d stand behind you to silently let them know you’re off limits

Even though you’re not dating he’d still have a possessive hand around your waist idc

“Why you gotta look like that hm? Always lookin’ so pretty for me. You tryna get their attention or something? Bet that’s what you want huh, want me to show them who you really belong to isn’t that right”

Zen’in Maki┊禪院真希

First off, I’m jealous but okay moving on

She’d be a low-key soft tsundere

Lemme explain,

This girl is a strong independent woman who gives no shits whatsoever and also has a very high wall built to hide her emotions and to keep you tf out

Therefore!, she’d pick on you (and no one else) in the nicest way possible

“Where do you think you’re going wearing that, a circus? You look like an idiot… but a cute idiot I guess…”

My heart-

And if you’d tease her back she’d just push your face away and walk in the opposite direction

She’d probably let you wear her glasses if you ask nicely

She’d even volunteer to help you train just so she can spend more time with you 🥹

Would purposely make you flustered no doubt in my mind (wouldn’t even have to try)

During practice she’d trip you up and land on you CENTIMETRES away from your face and just smirk

Ahahdbjsmke

She’d grin at anything cute you do

You’re doing a lil happy dance while eating? She’s there staring at you with a small grin

You’re pouting because something didn’t go your way? She’ll just tilt her head and smile

“You always look so cute when you do that little dance of yours, what’s got you so happy huh? Wanna tell me so you do that cute dance again? Go on, don’t be shy now”

Inumaki Toge ��巻棘

My sweet sweet boy

He’d silently fan boy at everything you do

Definitely your personal cheerleader 🤝

At any and every one of your accomplishments, he’d cheer you on with his little jig of a dance

He’d rant to Panda in onigri ingredients at how perfect you are

He blushes A LOT

But you’ll never know since he has his collar zipped up at all times 😔

Every time you make him nervous he’ll fidget with his hands and look anywhere but at you

You compliment him over text while he’s in his dorm? He’s trying not scream and just rolls back and forth in his bed in excitement and happiness

I can imagine him standing behind Nanami doing silly little dances to make you laugh

Loves head pats, that’s it. That’s all.

He malfunctions when ruffle or comb your fingers through his hair

His tail would be wagging if he was a dog

He’d give you gifts as well but not any gifts

For example;

You’re usually cold in class? He’ll buy you a scarf and give it to you the next day

You’ve been staying up lately due to assignments? He’ll place a bag of energy bars and caffeinated drinks on your desk

He does all this while reprimanding you in onigri ingredients

He’d even keep spares in his bag just in case

“What did I tell you about staying up late huh? And will you ever learn to wear something warm to class or do I need to continuously bring these things with me? You’re lucky you’re cute!”

Nanami Kento 七海健人

Bby would be so professional

He’d keep trying to convince himself that it isn’t professional to have feelings for his colleague

Yet he couldn’t help but spend more time with you

He’d ask for your opinion on certain topics (shocker I know) or if you’d be able to print something out for him

He’d do this so much it’d start to make you suspicious

Even Gojo would catch on…

“Nanamin~ how come you ask Y/n for their opinion when you have me huh?”

Like Megumi he’d be such a gentleman

He’d put his coat on your lap if you’re wearing shorts or a skirt

He’d put his hand on your back to guide you through busy crowds

He’d make an extra cup of coffee/tea for you when he’s making one for himself

I feel like he’d have a certain tick when he’s nervous like scratching the side of his head or behind his ear

It’d be so fckn cute 😤

You mention the tie he’s wearing that day suits him or brings out his eyes? Don’t be surprised if he wears it again tomorrow

He wouldn’t even be ashamed about it

“What are you looking at? Oh my tie? What’s wrong with it? Didn’t you say it suited me yesterday? Thought I’d wear it for you again”

—

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

#‧₊˚🖇️#🍓 ₊˚✩⊹#˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒋𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒖 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒏 #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #geto suguru #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #toji fushiguro #maki zenin #toge inumaki #nanami kento #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #headcanon #imagine #fluff

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