#IS IT A VALENTINE'S DAY PARTY

[renegadesstuff]

OMG 😍😍 AND THE MATCHING OUTFITS 😩😍

[haoqw]

because the only hope for me is you, alone

[bingusteaweeb]

urghh ,,, someone sedate me PLEASE.

[laughingsquid]

Puddles Pity Party Performs a Melancholy Cover of 'My Funny Valentine'

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve has no idea how he got talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie, he knows how it started: a phone call, his mother, and a sudden way for her to be in the spotlight for her yearly fifteen minutes of Hawkins fame. He just can’t recall why he agreed to it.

“It's an opportunity, Steven." She says, heels clicking against the department store tile.

An embarrassment is what it was, but Steve knew better than to tell his mother that.

"You should be honored that Wendy--that’s the head chair of the charity board, you remember her don't you? She used to attend your piano recitals--she asked for you personally." His mother expertly plucked a shirt from the rack, holding it up to the light.

"Those were your parties mom, not my piano recitals." Steve reminds her as she holds the shirt out to him. He took it, adding it to the stack he had in his hands.

The parties were the exact same kind of shit this as this “Valentine's Day Fundraiser” a way for rich people to celebrate themselves by making others uncomfortable.

Only instead of being forced to play piano so his mothers friends could wine and dine with the famous Harrington's, he was being hauled up in front of the entire town (or whoever was attending this stupid event) and auctioned off as a “date” to the highest bidder.

(“It’s for one day, Steven, don’t be so dramatic. Why is your generation entirely incapable of taking a joke and having fun?” His mother had said, when he tried to tell her he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Of course there was no answer that would please her; soon enough, Steve found himself dragged about town as his mother played dress up.)

"You'll be standing alongside the Mayor, the fire department, even that idiot, Mary Marie--"

She stops for a moment, eyeing a jacket with a critical eye.

Just as quickly she dismisses it with a hum, prowling on to the next section.

"--the point is that there will be plenty of candidates for the children to pick from, but you’ll be the only hero up there."

That same critical eye turns on him, appraising him like he was no more than a horse in her stable, adding up imperfections and dividing amongst his best qualities.

(Despite a lifetime of training, it still takes everything in him not to squirm.)

"Not to mention a Harrington.” She purrs, taking a step closer to run a manicured hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing away a stray crease. “Women will be throwing money to win a day with you."

Steve has to fight not to outright shudder.

"Which means you have to look your best. Now stop whining, we’re almost done.”

Steve doubts that, but it doesn’t matter; he never had a choice to begin with.

xXx

Four hours, one shower, and several rounds of his mother’s nagging and meticulous styling, ,Steve finds himself back in Hawkin’s High, staring at the gym.

His mother had long swept past him, having spotted some high school friends and gone over to lord her lifestyle and general wealth over them.

For a fundraiser, the charity board in charge had spared no expense in dressing the gym up. Red, pink and white balloons decorated the doorways and a large stage hauled to one end.

Tables with thick, white table cloth are artfully arranged about the floor, caterers swiftly moving between them.

This is probably the fanciest this gym has ever looked, and Steve wants to be anywhere but inside it.

“Oh--Steve.” A gentle voice says next to him, and Steve turns his head in surprise to see Chrissy Cunningham look nervously up at him. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Me neither honestly.” He tells her, watching the way that makes the younger woman smile. “But I’ve been volun-told to be auctioned off. What about yourself?”

Chrissy runs her hands down her dress, a modest if not beautiful blue halter dress , wincing as she snags a nail on it. “The school held a vote at lunch about who would represent the school tonight. All of the varsity cheerleaders and basketball players were involved.”

“I see.” Steve says, keeping his voice gentle and playful. There had always been a part of Chrissy that had reminded him of El. Someone who needed kind words in their life. “You got voted as tonight’s sacrifice, huh?”

Chrissy laughs at that, hand flying to cover her mouth. “I guess you could say that.” She says, and seems surprised at herself for it.

“Did Jason get picked too?” Steve asks. It would make sense if he was, the guy was the basketball Captain after all.

Chrissy nods, then chews on her lip. “Yes but--he’s not happy about it,”

Steve snorts and tries to cover it with a cough. “None of us are.”

“It’s more that I’m being auctioned off.”

Chrissy must catch the look on his face because she rushes to add; “You know, like any boyfriend would be! I know it’s just supposed to be a fun silly thing and they’re not really dates but…” She trails off, voice growing quieter at the end. “He worries.”

The word “worry” sounds like it means something else entirely.

Steve feels for her.

“Hey, if Jason’s an ass about it, let me know.” Steve says after a moment of shared silence. “You don’t deserve to deal with him being a kid about this shit.”

Chrissy blinks up at him at that, hand almost to her mouth as though she’d subconsciously raised them up to chew on her nails. “Thanks Steve. That’s nice of you.” She whispers it, and Steve nods and smiles at her.

“There you two are!” A woman says, rushing over with a clipboard. “Steve Harrington and Chrissy Cunningham, right? We’re gathering all the dates behind those doors.” She turns and points to the opposite end of the gym. “If you both would follow me please?”

Steve motions for Chrissy to go first, and moves to follow her when a flash of curls crushed down by a blur of white, blue and electric yellow catches his eye.

He turns automatically, seeking it out and sure enough, ducking down the hall is Henderson, Sinclair hot on his heels.

A familiar mixture of emotions lights up Steve’s spine, and he knows immediately he won’t be able to rest until he figures out what the gremlins are up to--because their Hellfire Club was supposedly canceled today on grounds that Munson had stolen a microphone, or some other crap.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll join you in a second!” Steve calls, before darting down the hall, after them.

xXx

Here’s the thing about the kids.

Mike can be downright squirrely when he wants to be.

The guy is all long-limbs and ever-changing moods, and the second he spots Steve he vanishes around the corner and leaves no trace of himself behind.

Dustin, similarly, is catty.

The kid’s not fast, but when cornered, he has a tendency to do the most insane, ridiculous things.

Currently Steve is ninety percent sure he just saw him jump out a window, and the only reason it’s not one hundred is because his eyesight isn’t the greatest these days, and it’s entirely possible Dustin found something to put that stupid Weird Al shirt on and threw that out the window instead,

It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.

Knowing this, Steve automatically goes for the easiest target: Lucas.

See, Lucas is, of course, the most athletic and the only one likely to give Steve a run for his money should he too, decide to bolt.

He also was the most likely to stop and actually talk to Steve, because unlike his friends, he possessed some emotional maturity.

Or just maturity in general.

“Come on Luc, what’s going on?” Steve calls out, the second he rounds the corner and spots the kids. “You’re freaking me out.”

That makes Lucas stop and come to him, while the other two dipshits bolt.

Steve leans against a wall, eyebrow raised as Lucas slinks forward, but knows instantly from the grin the kid’s trying to hide that whatever’s going on right now, is their usual kind of bullshit.

(An internal part of him, the part that has to deal with the unusual bullshit every six months or so, sighs in relief.)

“Okay, you have to swear not to be mad.” Lucas starts, which is never a good sign, but at least it’s coming from Steve’s second most trustworthy kid.

(Will still holds first place, after the time he ratted out Mike for dumping nail polish all over Max’s jacket.

“She was super rude, but she didn’t deserve that.” Will had said with a stubborn set to his jaw.

Steve had ruffled his hair and together they had plotted a way to get revenge on Mike without letting Max outright murder him.)

“We uh, might have heard that you were being auctioned off tonight.”

Which was not at all where Steve thought this was going to go.

“Okay?” He hedges, waiting to see where Lucas spills the part that makes Steve worry.

“So you played D&D with Erica and Dustin, and neither of them will stop bragging about it.” Lucas says, a slight pink coloring his cheeks, “--and Mike won’t say it, but I know it bothers him too so we thought we could, uh, buy you. For the day.”

Lucas sends out his gigawatt grin, the one he uses when he’s trying to be his most charming. “To make you play D&D with us.”

Something warm and soft blooms in Steve’s heart. A kind of love he’d never had before hauling the little shits out of the line of fire the first time.

These kids were gonna be the death of him, he just knew it.

“If you ever tell the others I said this I will deny it ” Steve says, pulling out his wallet and forking out a handful of twenties. “But I would be happy to play your dungeons and dipshits game with you.”

Lucas doesn’t even correct him as he accepts the money with a grin--a real one this time. “Really?” He says, and it's so stupidly hopefully it makes Steve’s heart squeeze.

He reaches out, pulling the kid in for a hug for a second. Claps him on the back a few times before pushing fondly at his head.

“Over being taken on a date by some middle aged woman? Absolutely. But like I said,” He playfully shoves Lucas away, “You tell anyone and I will deny, deny, deny.”

“Sure Steve, whatever.” Lucas says, before running off to go find his friends.

Steve watches him go for a moment, smile on his face, before turning back to the gym.

He’d rather play D&D with the kids any day over dealing with this farce.

(The shocking thing, he finds himself thinking as he wanders over to where the other dates are situated, is that he means it. Even if a hot, beautiful girl bid on him--he���d rather spend the day with the kids.

Doesn’t that just say something about his life these days?)

xXx Eddie xXx

His club was going to kill him.

Normally, missing a game would be downright heresy. Betrayal of the highest order, particularly considering he’s the damn dungeon master. Sure, other people can DM, but not for the current ongoing campaign, which means Eddie landing his sorry ass in detention disrespected the sanctity of both his club and his people.

A fact he will need to beg on hands and knees to makeup for.

The siren song of the microphone, nevermind the idea of having an honest to god stage to prowl around on at lunch was simply too much for Eddie to resist, particularly when it came to his anti-Valentines Day speech.

Not that he was the type of guy to roll his eyes at all the lovey-dovey crap floating around, but more that people could be so stupid about it.

…and maybe he was a little bit jealous.

Eddie convinces himself it’s fine. He plans to have a session for the missed game on Sunday, when he knows his friends had planned to hang out at his place anyway.

Still feels bad about it as he walks down the halls of Hawkin’s high, annoyed that detention took as long as it did.

There’s people milling around, in the kind of stupid dressed up clothes that wasn’t formal, but could be described by evil words like “business casual.” The best skirts and knitted tops, slacks for the men paired with button up shirts or polos.

Like a fucking swarm of Steve Harrington’s--without any of the guys charm.

Not that he had any charm.

Definitely not.

Eddie gives an overactive shudder to clear his head, making his way out of the school as fast as he can.

Because life, the universe and everything in it hates him, he’s interrupted.

“Eddie! Oh thank god, look guys it’s Eddie!”

For the briefest of seconds after hearing Henderson’s voice, Eddie’s worried no one thought to tell the kids that Hellfire had been canceled.

Or, considering Eddie’s over the top response to the first time one of them had tried to miss a campaign night, they might be worried he’s dying (rather than simply an “unbearable idiot” as Jeff had called him earlier.)

His freshman lambs quickly swarm him, three pairs of eyes staring with weird amounts of hope (Sinclair, Henderson) and awkward embarrassment (Wheeler.)

“Eddie! Eddie, they're only letting Juniors and Seniors place the actual bets!” Dustin sounds frantic, practically vibrating in place before him. “They won’t let any of us bid on Steve!”

Any fondness Eddie felt evaporates in a puff of vexed smoke.

“That sounds like a you problem.” He challenges, raising an eyebrow.

For once, the freshmen don’t cringe back.

Instead he’s treated to steel sliding across Henderon’s face, Sinclair right behind him and Mike, who refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes, but stands with his friends anyway.

“Come on, think of all the chaos it’ll cause!” Dustin is pleading, his hands waving in the air in a way that reminds Eddie of himself. “Isn’t that like, you’re whole thing? Going against ‘the Man’!?”

Yes, because publicly buying Harrington for a date in front of Hawkin’s self-proclaimed elite was a great way to stick it to ‘the Man’, instead of, say, painting yet another target on his back.

“I don’t think getting into a bidding war over taking Steve Harrington on a date is going to go over well.” He deadpans.

Dustin throws his hands in the air. “It doesn’t have to be a date! ”

“Jennifer’s mom’s friends bid on her. For a girls night.” Mike adds so quietly it takes a minute for the words to process.

“Just saying!” He adds frantically, as though Eddie is going to call him out for this betrayal.

Considering the downright fearful look he’s wearing, Eddie might just do it for shits and giggles in his next campaign.

“We’re begging you, don’t you want to see Steve play D&D? We promise you can even watch the whole thing and embarrass him or whatever!” Dustin continues, hands clasped together in front of him.

“There you idiots are.” A judgey, annoyed voice calls, cutting into the conversation.

Eddie has never met Sinclair Jr. but immediately assumes the girl walking towards them with her arms firmly on her hips must be her “Steve’s up next, idiots. I know you know how auctions work, so I shouldn't have to remind you about having to physically be in the room to bid on him.”

She stops, cocking her head challengingly. “Unless one of you is going to call in from a payphone?”

Cheeky.

Eddie loves cheeky.

Even if she is eleven.

Muted calls ring out again from the gym. Apparently Hawkin’s middle aged women have started their fight for a day spent with one of the “young, local heroes”.

The very thought of Steve, all scraped up in the stupid Scoop’s Ahoy sailor uniform, guiding kid’s out of the mallfire with his broad chest and buff arms and--

“Eddie.” Dustin whines, bouncing frantically in place.

‘Head out of the gutter, Munson!’ He thinks, annoyed at himself (and perhaps, a little bit more understanding of the ladies shouting out numbers in the gym).

“Do you still only have five dollars?” He says, and it's not defeat, not yet, but he can see the hope reignite in their eyes.

This was stupid. A stupid, stupid, stupid idea!

“We have a hundred now.” Lucas says firmly, which is at least a lot more than five.

The calls from the gym are playful but there’s a catty undertone now. Those women really want that date with Steve, and Eddie knows walking in there, bidding on Harrington is a death sentence.

Dustin’s done something to his eyes. They’re wide, shined over like he’s about to cry. Like this fucking matters to him.

It drills into Eddie in a way he hates. How the three of them, (even Mike who is still trying his best not to act like he wants this) are handing him all their dreams. He’s someone they look up to, someone who can make things happen, and he’s always liked that feeling--but this?

This was asking a lot.

“Eddie man, please. You’re our only hope.” Dustin says it softly, and goddamn him, it’s like he knows Eddie is weak for this shit. That under all his leather and chains that he cares.

About them.

He just wishes what they didn’t care about was fucking Steve Harrington.

He knows they think the guy hung the moon. Just as he knows he'll need more than money to fend off the competition and actually win Steve: he'll need a plan.

Knows, even, just how he’ll do it.

“Baby Sinclair, a word?” He crooks a finger, walking a few paces backwards as a plan rapidly forms.

She flicks her eyes over to him, and with an appraisal that says she had already judged him and found him lacking. “It’s Erica.”

Eddie bows low to her, arm brushing the floor. “My deepest apologies, Lady Erica.”

She rolls her eyes but comes over anyway and lets Eddie whisper in her ear.

Read the rest on A03: LINK

[saturnscherie]

x

[morallygreyintrovert]

Just finished watched that 51 minute Destiel video and honestly Misha Collins acting in Despair is freakin’ phenomenal, the sheer emotion he was able to convey on his face, fuck I’m just sat here in tears

[wizard-loving-wizard]

happy valentine's day to brennan only i guess x x

[pinkfairiesteaparty]

[trivia-yandere]

bad decisions

you're getting married on valentine's day - but somehow, you allow a stripper to fuck you in front of your brides' maids and maid of honor. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @whipwhoops

word count: 1.252

warning: stripper jimin, cheating reader, affair au, public sex, voyeurism, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, slight girl on girl, creampie, bad friends lol, revenge plot???, it's 2 am and this is what i thought of, lolz,

Valentine's Day Masterlist

You were beginning to remember when your fiancee didn’t like your friends. 

“They’re single and you aren’t.” was an argument you heard often. “They’ll influence you to act just as single as them.” was another.

With each argument, you were stern in shooting him down, stating that even if your friends were single and a bit out there - you weren’t. But you would say that the problem came deeper than that. Your soon to be husband had his own secret affairs - a drunk one at that - that resulted in a pregnancy and a child he pays for monthly, but refuses to see. Maybe that’s why he believes you’d do the same to him in an act of revenge - but you got over that part in the relationship (even if your friends were upset with you). You loved him, you thought.

Now as you watch your friends, all equally as drunk as you - if not more - scatter around the man, all on their knees. The sight is truly a filthy one - the hotel room lights were dim while the music played in the background. The man - Jimin was his name - stands before your friends, a cocky grin on his lips. He isn’t hesitating in allowing your friends to wrap their mouths around his cock, even allowing his eyes to flicker to you every few moments.

You shouldn’t be here, were your sober thoughts. You were getting married the following morning to the man you loved - this was just a bachelorette party with your friends. A party your fiancee was worried about you attending, but you assured him that it would be nothing.

This…this was not nothing.

“Just try it, Y/N.” one of your friends - a bridesmaid at that - slurs from Jimin’s cock, her hand pumping it. “Live in the moment.”

“I’m getting married tomorrow.” you shake your head slightly, hot underneath Jimin’s gaze. You swallow thickly - Jimin is an attractive man. His eyes are as sharp as his jawline, and he understands his beauty. He flaunts it and had since he appeared in the room as a dancer - one you were not expecting to see. 

“On Valentine’s day?” Jimin questions, his voice soft and smooth - almost melodic. “How sweet.”

You gulp, feeling your legs tighten together. You were not a prude - you and your friends had been in this position many times before. You all watched one another act far too whorish with a man - but this was different. You were to be wed just tomorrow - and they were inviting you in this filthy mess.

“Then why not enjoy your last night as a free woman doing something scandalous?” Jimin questions. He wraps his own hand onto his cock - thick and veiny with a red tip - and begins to pump. “It’ll be our little secret.”

Your heart is racing outside your chest. You feel yourself become nauseous with Jimin’s stare - it’s as though the room began to spin and it was just you and him, you are under his spell completely.

You don’t realize when you yourself fall to your knees and you crawl to the man - not until your lips are around said cock and you’re sucking him. His hands are tangled into your hair and he’s encouraging you.

This is wrong, you tell yourself. You weren’t a free woman in the slightest - you had a soon to be husband. But the adrenaline running through you is intoxicating - it causes you to fit Jimin deeper and deeper into your throat until you’re gagging on him. And even then, you didn’t want to stop. 

Jimin’s moans hit your ears, his breathing hitching with each gag of your throat. Your fingernails clench his naked thigh to bring him even more - if possible - into your throat. You’re wet, lingering clenching onto your body so tight that you wish you could take it off and be free from it.

“Get up.” Jimin commands, soft voice bringing you back to reality. He removes his cock from inside your mouth, a string of saliva connecting it. “You’re sucking like you haven’t been fucked in years.”

Your friends are hollering, all clapping and cheering. You allow Jimin to take you to the large bed, pressing you firmly against it. 

“Your husband’s lucky.” Jimin cackles, as if taunting you - mocking that you were cheating on the man you are to be married to. 

The lingerie isn’t taken off of you. Instead, Jimin hooks a finger into your pantie and pushes it aside. He whistles. “So wet. I knew you liked me, baby.”

The bed dips, your friends surrounding you. One friend - your maid of honor - is behind you. She offers a drunk smile and nods. “It’s okay, Y/N.” she assures  - but it wasn’t.

Your maid of honor holds your arms as Jimin enters you. Your back arches and you release a deep groan.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Jimin laughs, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He’s unsure just how influenced you are with your friends, but it cannot be a good sign if you were willing to cheat on your husband so easily. Yet, he cannot be bothered to care. 

Jimin pounds inside of you, wet skin hitting one another. The voices of your friends are background noise, a mix of laughter, moans and claps. You aren’t sure which friend is clenching your breasts, but you’re positive one has her hands on your clit.

“This is the wildest bachelorette party I attended.” Jimin grunts as you clench around him. Your friends were far too into it as you were, a few kissing one another while the rest pleasured you along with him. If you did this before, he isn’t certain - but neither of you appeared shy.

“Does it feel good?” your maid of honor asks, coming down to whisper in your ear. 

“Feels so good…!” you exclaim, your juices coating Jimin’s cock entirely - you didn’t even assure that he wore a condom. 

“How about you cum in her?” your maid of honor asks, laughing at your fucked out expression. “Give her a little present she’ll never forget.”

Jimin shudders, eyes wide. What exactly was your friend suggesting?

No matter, he thinks. You aren’t protesting, so why should he?

Jimin drills into you even harder, hell bent on doing what your maid of honor asked. You’re not denying him, you’re moaning for more and more and more-

“F-Fuck!” you shout, feeling yourself come undone before them, your friends fingers overstimulating your throbbing clit. 

Jimin’s cock is coated white with your cum and he cannot help but cum himself. He trembles, unsure when the last time he came in someone raw like this - and it was just as exciting. 

You feel tired when Jimin removes himself from inside of you, unable to open your eyes fully. 

“We can pay you extra.” your maid of honor suggests, noticing that you have fallen asleep. 

“No need.” Jimin murmurs, eyeing your sleeping figure. “What did you mean by leaving her a present she won’t forget?”

Your maid of honor chuckles. “No doubt she’ll be pregnant.” she says nonchalantly. “That husband of her’s cheated on her first and had a child. Y/N’s just dumb and agreed to stay with him. I say it’s karma. A little revenge.”

Jimin watches as your friend giggles even more. “Watching him raise another man's child while he ignores the child he had when he cheated on her.”

Jimin swallows, unsure of what to say in the situation. 

It was none of his business, Jimin thinks.

[n4t3rr]

Late valentine art

[pigegone]

Helmet party, my beloved

I hope y'all have a nice day tomorrow, wether you have plans or not! You are loved and appreciated!

(click for higher quality)

[chasingrainbowsforever]

~ Red and Gray ~

[girlygirlwebdiary]

Hiii girlies!!! Valentine’s day is coming & so is galentines sooo🩷🩷🩷 Here’s some inspo <333

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Giggles…I love being right 😂

First Fun Party Qingdao 2025

22/02/2025

Source as above

[bigsoggyboots]

Councilor! Sevika x Piltover! Reader

Valentine's Day Post

summ: You stood against everything she stood for. Yet, she welcomes it instead of pushing it away. Why? No one has a clue.

wc: 1k

an: We're ignoring the canon and acting like Elora isn't dead and Mel is still a Councilor. Okay? Ok.

AO3: @calamitykills

Also, that AO3 curse is REAL. I burned my thumb 2 days after writing this. It's minor, I'm fine, but I can't play video games for like a week. Luckily, I wrote this the night of the SuperBowl.

Anyways, enjoy!

You weren't new in town, more unknown than anything. Your family owned many of Piltover's infrastructure companies, using you as a face for all their offers. Did you like the job? Not exactly. No one knew you beside your offers.

The only substantial thing that seemed to stick was your title as “Mel's friend.” And you were glad for it to be that way. Nice parties, free drinks, learning all of the latest gossip; it was all divine. You live a double life, as it seems.

Yes, you caught the attention of some, but none of them intrigued you. Most were far too regal and stuck-up for your taste. You wanted someone real, down to Earth. Someone who'd command your attention, not ask for it.

Mel teased you about your type before, watching firsthand how your calm facade fled once someone got harsh with their tone. You always had to shush her, a faint heat rising to your cheeks. Like an hour ago, where her and Elora congratulated you for Sevika making you go out with her. Your reaction as you immediately agreed would be something they'd make fun of you for.

How'd you do it? You don't even know. It could've been the wine you had, your carefully crafted persona steering for you, or a tremendous amount of luck. Whatever it could was, she liked you, let you know of it, and told you that night she wanted to see you in her house colors instead of Mel’s.

And that's exactly what was happening tonight, your heels tapping down her street with a paper in hand on the address she gave you. She told you you'd be her plus one to a Councilor's party. You hadn't bothered to learn all the names, Sevika and Mel being the only ones you could pay attention to. But the party was for Valentine's Day so you were more than happy to come.

Once you arrived, you knew it was her house because of how plainly decorated it was. That and all the lights were on. You twisted the doorknob; she left the door open for you.

☆

As familiar you are to the smell of smoke and as much as you expected the smell, you were met with nothing. Just the smell of a new house. It shouldn't, but it creeped you out.

You looked around. Barren, just like the outside. The only thing that filled (what seemingly was a living room) was a single couch with a glass table in front of it. When she told you her house would be empty, she wasn't kidding. You couldn't blame her. Moving things from Zaun up into Piltover must be troubling.

Would be cute for a date idea though; helping Sevika decorate her house, paint the walls, other things of the sort. You smiled to yourself. Not a bad idea.

“You're quiet.” Your head snapped to the direction of the sound, fear coursing fast along with adrenaline. Your eyes set on Sevika, leaning on a doorway to your left. Must be her bedroom. “Almost thought you were someone else.”

Grateful, you exhaled, the fear leaving you faster than it came. “I almost thought you were someone else.” She smirked at that, you moving to stand closer to her. “Janna, say something next time.”

You moved past her, missing the smirk growing on Sevika's face as you settled your things down. “Look at you, already acting like you own the place.” You looked her way, only rolling your eyes before getting back to your task. She decided to get on you for that later. For now, let's just lock the door.

☆

Lips brushed against your skin for the tenth time that night. “Heavenly.” She stood behind you, looking at you in the mirror, garnering this memory for keepsake. You gazed at yourself, she was right.

Sevika had good taste, the fact she picked this dress out for you was beyond your comprehension. In so little time, she knew your height, your waist size, and your weight. It was almost like she measured you herself.

“Wow..” You were speechless, you didn't know what to say. You marveled at your look, and the shine the dress gave off. Emerald green was a great color for both you and your complexion. You and her looked great actually and you matched.

She wore a red suit, you wore a green dress. This is your first public outing together, and you're in house colors. It felt right. Your family wouldn't approve of your sudden stance in political affairs, but you'd be in the papers anyway.

“Get your head outta the clouds.” Surprise painted your face, facade falling for only moments, watching as Sevika kissed the spot behind your ear. “You look like you wanna ask somethin’.”

“How do you think everyone else will react to the dress?” She lifted your hair up, tossling it all up and over your face.

“I can't care ‘bout anything but you.” She kissed your nape now, placing your necklace how she wanted.

You peek at her out of the corner of your eye. “I'm serious, Sevika.”

“I'm serious too.” Sevika clipped your necklace. You directed your attention to the piece, it was a simple silver chain. A nice compliment piece. “They'll know you're my girl, that's what I think.”

“Your girl?” You turned to face her, a smirk growing faster than you could think of it.

“Yeah,” She lit her cigar, a bit of a smile forming at the thought. "My girl.”

You wanted to question that, but you figured if you pointed it out, she'd never say it again. You already knew from experience.

So, you trailed your way out of the bedroom and acted like this was an everyday thing. “Well, happy Valentine's day to you too baby.”

☆

This was a nice way to spend it too. Celebrating new relationships, new beginnings, connecting from old to young, and most importantly by let your true self flow.

Honestly, who cares what others think? It's your life, it's your choice who you stand by and frankly, you're more than glad to be “Sevika's girl.”