#If this ends i don't think i could ever date again

[bucketbueckers]

TEAM BUECKERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: language, kinda silly, kinda rushed

wc: 5.9k

synopsis: For you and Paige, the line between “friends” and “something more” wasn’t always this blurry. You weren’t quite sure how you got here, and if you were being completely honest, you didn’t know if you were brave enough to ever cross that line fully. It’s not until Paige ropes you into a Valentine’s Day couples contest you realize, with the two of you, that line never really existed at all.

notes: happy (late) valentines day 😋 yes i'm posting this after midnight on february 15 and yes i tried my best to get this out on the 14th when it was, you know, actually valentines day, but i fumbled majorly and im like 50% sorry. not proofread bc im sleepy. i lowkey don't know how to feel about this but i think the end makes up for it but i had an idea for this and it honestly derailed. i still don't know how taglists work (if you've asked and you're not on here, i'm sorry i will just throw up and die if i tag someone who doesn't actually want to be tagged in all of my works i hope u understand, pls be super specific my brain doesn't function like it used to) uhhh so yeah lmk what we think & happy vday 🫶

tags: @jnkbueckers

You and Paige weren’t always like this. There used to be a clear boundary in your friendship, a strictly platonic one where her embrace didn’t make your heart race and where her mischievous smile didn’t fill you with an exasperation that bordered on endearment. You didn’t always wear her jersey at games, didn’t always keep her favorite ice cream stocked in your apartment for nights she came over to binge watch the same show the both of you have probably seen a combined thousand times, didn’t always confuse where you begin or where she ends. There used to be a time where the two of you weren’t so inexplicably intertwined in the fabric of each other’s lives. 

If anyone asked, you wouldn’t be able to identify when everything shifted – when your feelings transformed into what they are now. It just happened. The realization was as easy as waking up next to her on the couch, your legs tangled under a blanket far too small for the both of you, her arm tight around your waist to prevent you from falling off of the cushions entirely. It was as easy as the spare toothbrush you keep in your bathroom because she sleeps over so often, as easy as the drawer you have in her room because sometimes her dorm is just closer than your apartment.

So maybe it was kind of inevitable that ‘you and Paige’ turned into a ‘You & Paige.’ The two of you have a simple understanding. You keep her grounded, she encourages you to dream a little bigger. You talk, she listens. You round each other out in so many ways that you’re not the least bit surprised by how many people think that you and Paige are dating. If anything, they’re more surprised when you correct them, saying, “She’s just my best friend.”

You’re content to take your feelings for her to the grave. Maybe you would get over her eventually. She’s Paige Bueckers. She has a national championship and the upcoming draft to focus on and you have your senior thesis due at the end of the semester. The both of you have a lot on your plates – you care for her too much to complicate things for her, even if that means putting your own feelings on the back-burner.

You’re sitting on your couch, twelve pages into your paper, sifting through the twenty-eight (yes, twenty-eight) tabs you have open for your research when you hear your door knob jiggle. You don’t think too much of it, trying to stay focused on the task in front of you before you give up and start scrolling through social media again. However, your discipline doesn’t last for too long because the familiar rhythm of footsteps could only belong to one person. You look up to find Paige making her way into your living room like she owns the place (which she may as well, considering how often she’s around), depositing her duffle bag on the armchair. You greet her, returning to your work, but you feel the couch dip under her weight as she takes a seat next to you.

And then she sighs. Loudly. Dramatically, like she’s begging for your attention. Like you’re not busy. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, finding her staring straight at you, but she says nothing. A few beats pass. You add a new sentence to your paper, pausing to go back and find the reference page. She sighs again, more purpose and intent behind it this time, and your lips quirk slightly. Still, she says nothing, and the silence stretches on for so long that you’re sure she’s given up on trying to annoy you.

You write one more sentence before she leans over, sprawling out across your body, chin pressing into your keyboard. Your eye twitches as a long string of ‘M’s takes over your Word document. Paige sighs again, sounding forlorn, like a kicked puppy, and you know you’re not going to get anything done unless you entertain her.

“Okay,” you say, pulling your computer out from under her head, making sure to save your paper before you close the lid. “What’s wrong?”

Her face brightens almost immediately. “I am so glad you asked,” she states. “So, I’m walkin’ through campus today, right?”

“As one does.”

She hums. “And there’s a shit ton of tabling outside the student union. Frats, clubs, some vegan guy giving out pamphlets –”

“Paige,” you interrupt, raising a brow. “The point?”

“Oh.” She nods, collecting her thoughts. “So there was this club – forgot who they were, lowkey, there was a lot of letters – but on Friday, they’re hostin’ a Valentine’s Day contest and the first place prize is insane. I’m talking gift cards, cookie decorating kits, I think there was even a coupon in there for a fucking spa trip, or some shit, but you get the point, yeah? I wanted to sign us up for it.”

You had to admit – you were a little intrigued by it. Between your class work and Paige and her teammates giving you an aneurysm every week, you were in dire need of a spa trip and a little bit of relaxation. But more than anything else in the world, you knew Paige. You recognized that gleam in her expression – it was a feigned nonchalance, like she was being slick and trying to hide it. “What’s the catch?” you ask bluntly.

She laughs, the sound more surprised than amused, and her head shifts in your lap to gaze up at you. You try to ignore the way it sets off a swarm of butterflies in your belly. “What makes you think there’s a catch?” she asks.

“You’re Paige Bueckers,” you state. “There’s always a catch. Like I knew there was a catch when you asked me if I would hide fourteen blonde wigs in my apartment.”

“They were for CD!” she argues. You narrow your eyes at her and she huffs a little, amused, her lips quirking into a radiant smile. “A’ight. I guess you got a point.” You hum, because of course you do. Her expression turns serious as she sighs, for real this time. “It’s a couple’s contest,” she admits. “But hear me out, okay?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” you grumble, but your mind is racing.

“There’s a couple rounds,” she explains. “Like, the first round is trivia. How well do you know your partner, type shit. They score you, then they eliminate the people who don’t know shit about their partners. Second round is teamwork. They’ll give you a couple of puzzles and the most points will go to the teams who work well together and solve the puzzle quickly. More eliminations, then the partners are separated and they’re asked questions about each other – about what, I’on know. That should be the final round of eliminations and then the remaining couples are ranked based on points and prizes are given. Light work.”

“Light work?” you echo, a little self-deprecating. “Paige, we aren’t a couple.”

“Well, not exactly,” she concedes. “But we know each other pretty well. And can you really say no to the spa coupon?”

You bite your lip, sighing as you truly contemplate it. She’s got you there. The prize itself is worth the heartache that will come with pretending like you and Paige are actually dating. “You sure we can handle it?” you ask.

She pats your side, almost ignorant of the way it sends electricity coursing down your spine. “Duh,” she says like it’s obvious, her lips growing into a confident, assured smile. “We’re a dream team, baby. We got this.”

You could only hope so.

You nervously adjust your dress as you and Paige stand outside of the large room that the Valentine’s Day contest was taking place in. You spent the entire week leading up to Valentine’s Day an anxious wreck – part of you was worried that you would slip up and say something that you would come to regret, maybe say something a little too real. You had to keep reminding yourself that you and Paige were playing a part and once that gift basket was in your hands, then things could go back to normal. 

The two of you dedicated the better part of the week to perfecting your cover story. How you met, where you met, how long you’ve been together, all of the cheesy romance milestone moments that you were certain you’d be asked about. You mutually decided to not get too creative as maintaining the lie would become even more difficult, but you were confident in your ability to sell a story.

“You ready?” Paige asks you, drawing you from your racing thoughts as she squeezes your hand gently. You didn’t even realize her hand had slipped into yours. Now that you’re aware of it, it’s all you can think of. Her hand is strong, enveloping yours completely, and it brings you a calming peace you weren’t even aware that you’d been seeking out. Feeling yourself relax, you meet her eyes and nod, trying not to smile too hard when she beams at you.

As she leads the two of you inside the auditorium, you do your best to not stare too much at her. She’s dressed simply yet elegantly; donning a fitting suit that’s a light pink in color in honor of the occasion, the fluorescent lights overhead reflecting off of her stunning chains and the rings adorning her fingers. Her hair is tied back in her formal slick-back, the diamonds in her ears sparkling, and you really have to drag your eyes off of her. You’d already spent so much of the drive over staring at her and you’re sure she’d caught you a few times but was too nice to say anything to you.

The event had a decent turn out. You count fourteen couples at most, fifteen including you and Paige, although you couldn’t really tell if that was good or bad. Beating fourteen other real, actual, dedicated, in-love couples was totally manageable. So what if you and Paige weren’t actually together, but you were the most convincing pair of best friends the world had ever seen? She said you could do it, and damn it if you weren’t going to get that spa treatment.

The auditorium, however, was decorated to the nines. Lights and streamers were strewn about, various complementing shades of pinks and lilacs matching the Valentine’s Day themes. The tables were covered in pink tablecloths with gorgeous centerpieces. Honestly, you had to give props where they were due – this club has gone all out for this Valentine’s Day event, although you’re sure they probably splurged their semesterly budget on all of the amenities.

Before you or Paige have the chance to say anything to each other, you’re approached by a young woman wearing a pink polo shirt with the club's name and logo emblazoned on the chest. UConn, UMatter. You glance quickly at Paige, trying not to let the amusement show on your face as you remember her words – ‘There was a lot of letters.’ She was so full of shit. “Hi guys!” the young woman greets enthusiastically. “Thanks so much for signing up. What’s the last name?”

“Bueckers.”

The girl nods, scanning her clipboard before finding Paige’s name. “Okay, perfect. Let me show you guys to your table.” She leads you diligently through the room, craning her head over her shoulder to explain. “Madelyn’s gonna be around soon to walk you guys through the trivia section once we start, alright? She’ll let you guys know everything you need.”

You and Paige thank the club member and she offers you two one last smile as the two of you sit down next to each other. Paige’s hand finds your knee, almost subconsciously, and you try to find your dignity. It’s then that you notice the placecard in front of you – elegant script reading TEAM BUECKERS. With a quiet laugh, you nudge Paige’s elbow, drawing her attention to the paper. “‘Team Bueckers,’ huh?” you ask her teasingly. “You forget about me?”

“Never,” she swears. “I think they assign the names based on who registered. Trust me, I had a name lined up and everything. We were gonna be PB & Slay.”

You snort. “I’m Slay?”

“No,” she deadpans. “You’re PB. Keep up, please.”

“Of course,” you say obviously, like it’s definitely your fault. “I’ll do better next time.” She squeezes your knee under the table, smiling wryly at you.

Once everyone filters in, the girl who’d greeted you at the door makes her way to the front of the room, adjusting the microphone. She introduces herself as the president of the UConn, UMatter club, explaining some of their objectives and goals for the spring semester – you tune out a lot of it, which you’ll probably feel bad for later, but you weren’t here for the club recruitment. You were here for the pedicure that was calling your name this weekend. She makes it through the rest of her opening remarks, officially announcing the beginning of the first challenge: trivia. Several club members make their way to designated tables and a short, brunette girl takes a seat in front of you and Paige.

“Hey, guys,” she says, grinning widely and handing the both of you dry erase boards and a marker each. “I’m Madelyn. I’m gonna walk the two of you through today’s challenges. We’ll go back and forth – you answer one, then the other, so on and so forth. If your answers are the same, then you’ll get a point. Ready?” You and Paige hum affirmatively. “Alright. Question for Paige – when is your partner’s birthday?”

Paige huffs, her lips quirking into a smile as she uncaps her marker. “Light work,” she murmurs as she writes her answer down. “It’s a national holiday.” You roll your eyes as Madelyn laughs. Paige flips the dry erase board around, showcasing it to you and Madelyn, and you nod as Madelyn awards you both one point.

“Same question for you,” Madelyn says to you. “When is Paige’s birthday?”

You uncap your marker and write down your answer. October 20, 2001. “The world hasn’t known peace since,” you murmur under your breath, drawing laughter from Paige. You flip your board around and Paige nods smugly.

“Two for two,” Madelyn states. “Next question for Paige. What trait of yours is your partner’s favorite?”

You and Paige exchange a glance, her brow raising teasingly. She writes down her answer and you do the same, eventually flipping your boards over for the reveal. The two of you hadn’t exactly prepared well to answer this one, so you were hoping that you and Paige were on the same wavelength. You lean forward, glancing at her whiteboard, and smiling with relief when you see her answer: she likes my energy. Paige’s smile is smug, but there’s an underlying softness in her eyes. “Don’t laugh at me,” you huff, trying to explain. “You just — you have this way about you, like you’re kind, warm, you make people smile, and you always support them. You’re just genuinely good and, I don’t know, I really like that about you.”

Paige’s smile isn’t any less confident, although she seems a little bashful now, her cheeks tinging pink. “Three for three.” she says.

Madelyn tries to stifle her grin, but it’s clearly not working. “Next question is for you. When Paige is having a rough time, how do you help her relax?”

“With great difficulty,” you gripe, making Paige and Madelyn snort as you write your actual answer. By forcing her to chill the fuck out. You and Paige flip your boards, hers reading a much politer She makes me do nothing all day. Madelyn nods, awarding you the point, but you hardly pay her any mind as you meet Paige’s eyes. “You do too much,” you say, which makes her groan. “You overwork yourself and you microdose a burnout and I have to make you sit down and remember that you’re human.”

“You’re worse than me!” she points out.

You sniff. “This is about you,” you declare, “not me.” Paige rolls her eyes fondly, but she can’t help her laughter. 

“Next question,” Madelyn says, grinning. “Paige, what did you guys do on your first date?”

This was a question that the two of you had prepared for. You both decided that a little bit of the truth went a long way and the truth was that you and Paige had no shortage of quasi-dates that you could easily draw from. You tried not to think too hard about that as the two of you write down your answers. You turn your boards, revealing similar responses of ‘we went to her dorm and made dinner together after one of her games.’

You glance at Paige and she sighs. “Don’t start,” she pleads. 

“I’m actually a little invested now,” Madelyn chirps, which makes you grin and makes Paige bury her head in her hands. 

“All I’ll say is that Paige shouldn’t be in the kitchen without supervision but I really admire her, um, willingness to get creative,” you say kindly. Your best friend pinches your thigh under the table and you jerk back, laughing. Not wanting to embarrass her in front of a stranger, you leave it at that, although you smile at Paige like you’re the only two at the table. “I had a good time, though. She made it memorable.” She smiles back at you, something tender that has your heart constricting. 

The both of you knew the truth, though. Paige was not a good cook. She doesn’t make terrible food — dinner was delicious, but Paige is chaotic and an actual hazard. Watching her chop an onion hurt something deep inside you although she’d seemed so proud of herself. You didn’t have the heart to make fun of her. 

“Five for five,” Madelyn says, drawing your attention back to her. “Next question for you. Who confessed to who?”

You and Paige lock eyes again, a silent conversation passing between the two of you, and you write down her name. You turn your boards, Paige’s name written on the both of them and you smile to yourself. “She was pretty oblivious,” Paige says, referring to you, and your smile falls as your jaw hits the ground. “I dropped so many hints and she just didn’t pick up on them. I eventually got tired—”

“Desperate,” you cut in. 

“Tired,” she emphasizes, smirking at you, “so I planned out this huge romantic thing and at the end, she still didn’t understand so I told her straight up.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe you’re just not as slick as you think,” you tell her. 

“Nah,” Paige says. “I’m super romantical.”

“Sure,” you concede. 

Madelyn stifles her smile. “Alright. Two more questions for both of you. Paige, what is your partner’s pet peeve?”

“If you get this wrong,” you grumble, hearing Paige snicker as the two of you write down your answers. After you flip your boards, she grins proudly when your answers line up. 

“She hates not being taken seriously,” Paige recites. “She’s an English major. People always think it’s just easy or unimportant shit, like reading and writing papers, but she actually does a lot of interesting analysis and stuff that I never even considered. I’ll admit I was a little ignorant but she set me straight.”

“Wait, I didn’t know you thought that,” you say, honestly confused. 

She shrugs, a little bashful. “I talk a lot but I listen. Sometimes when you leave the room, I’ll read your paper just so I can ask better questions. You get all… glowy. And… I’on know. I like seeing you happy.”

You blink once at her, genuinely touched, and if you weren’t head over heels for Paige before then you definitely are now. She squeezes your knee again, her smile crooked yet tender. Damn it. You are hopeless. 

“That’s so sweet.” You’re a little shocked by Madelyn’s voice, but you clear your throat, refocusing. “Next one for you. What’s Paige’s least favorite season?”

“That’s easy,” you say, writing your answer down. Paige does the same. When you flip your boards, you glance at Paige’s, smiling wryly. “Paige hates spring. She has really bad allergies and all of the pollen is honestly a death sentence, so she’ll get all congested and sneezy and will spend a good two weeks bitching about it and how it makes her Jeep dirty.”

You glance at Paige, waiting for her to say something, but she just shrugs with a smug expression. “Last question for Paige,” Madelyn says. “What is something your partner does to show her love for you?”

Neither of you say anything, but Paige stares at you thoughtfully, another silent conversation passing between you. You don’t need to think about your answer as you write it down. On cue, you both flip your boards, Paige’s reading simply, She takes care of me. You can’t help the way your heart swells, a fond smile overtaking your face. “Before you, I wasn’t really the… you know, the receiver, I guess. Always in control, always expected to lead. You make me feel like I can just be me, which is really hard sometimes.” Paige laughs off the vulnerability, but you see right through it – the painful honesty.

“We’re equals,” you remind her, nudging her leg with your knee. “We take care of each other.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, her voice soft as she gazes at you. “I’m glad that we do.”

You spot Madelyn out of the corner of your eye, which sobers you up quickly. She smiles. “You guys are so cute,” she gushes. “Final question for you and we’re done with this round. What is Paige’s love language?”

You feel Paige’s stare on you as you write, but you don’t glance back at her. You can hear the scribble of her marker, her capping it. When you’re finished, you finally look at her, taking in the soft expression on her face, and despite yourself, a smile grows on your face too. Together, you turn your boards, your answers being the exact same once more — quality time and physical touch. “Ten for ten, baby,” you croon, raising your hand for her to smack her palm against.

“Great job!” Madelyn says. “Let me just go submit these scores and I’ll be back to walk you guys through the puzzle round after eliminations. Sit tight.” She offers the two of you a quick grin before she’s walking off.

“Ten for ten,” Paige repeats, nudging you a little. “We’re like that?”

“I guess we’re actually kinda good at this friends thing,” you retort, although part of you wishes you were anything but.

Paige’s subsequent grin is far too knowing, like she has a trick up her sleeve. “Maybe a little.”

You laugh a little under your breath, adjusting your dress and leaning back in your chair to get comfortable. Before you know it, the scores are officially in. You and Paige had a perfect one, so you weren’t all too worried about getting eliminated in the first round, but five unlucky couples ended up leaving. The two of you watched from afar, trying not to stare too hard at the retreating couples, although they made it hard. One girl walked out crying, gesturing wildly as her partner trailed behind her, a desperate expression on her face. Another one was pure anger, slamming the door behind her. You didn’t think that this club contest would get people so riled up, but you considered that it was probably the realization that your partner truly didn’t know anything about you. You just lucked out with Paige – she understood you.

Madelyn returns quickly and cuts straight to the point. She instructs you and Paige to stand up, handing the both of you a towel, and adjusts your arms until you’re holding the towels perpendicular to each other, almost intertwined. “The goal here is to separate from each other, but it can be tricky because the towels will tangle you up. We’re looking to see how fast you can solve this puzzle and how well the two of you work together. Are you guys ready?” You and Paige nod and Madelyn grins again. “Alright. You can start.”

Instantly, the room around you two is sheer pandemonium. The couples around you are moving quickly, trying to untangle themselves, but it’s clear that the panic is settling in. You and Paige exchange a glance, laughing to each other softly. “Game plan?” she asks you.

“We need to get these like…not perpendicular,” you offer helpfully, and Paige nods, adjusting her arms. The angle change makes your towels bunch up and twist at their centers.

“Spin around,” she instructs. You do as so, the towels untwisting around the middle. You pause to analyze your situation, trying to plan out the moves in your head as Paige does the same.

“Okay, bring your towel over my head and let me step through it.” After that move, the both of you glance down, taking in your situation.

Paige hums. “The rest is easy,” she says. You nod in agreement, a silent understanding passing between the two of you and you move in tandem, twisting and shifting and stepping up until you’re both finally separating from each other in record time, having completed the puzzle. “We’re like that?” she asks you again, her expression smug and satisfied in a way that’s only comparable to when she’s on the court and her lips are curling after sinking a contested three point shot.

“Dream team,” you remind her, letting the victory wash over you, clapping your hand against hers, although she doesn’t immediately release you, squeezing your hand with a proud smile.

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen anyone solve it that quickly,” Madelyn admits. “Or that calmly.” As soon as she says it, a commotion from the other side of the room draws your attention. There’s one couple that are twisted so unnaturally that it looks like they’re playing Twister, but it seems that the girl gets tired of the shenanigans because she drops her towel and storms out with a frustrated yell. “Case in point.”

You laugh and Madelyn walks away again to tally the points and make their final eliminations. Once everything is set, five couples remain out of the initial fifteen. After the last challenge, two couples will be eliminated once more and the remaining three will be given prizes in order of points. You and Paige were determined to finish strong – if the first two challenges were any indicator, you two had this in the bag. True to Paige’s word, the couples were being split up for the last challenge, and she offers you a competitive smile as Madelyn whisks her away.

You pass the time on your phone although Paige isn’t gone for long. However, what does shock you is the sudden bashfulness that’s clear as day on her features, like the last challenge had made her confess something important or she had to be vulnerable. You can’t help the sudden worry that seizes your body, but Paige rests a hand on your hip, squeezing you once with a confident smile. It couldn’t be that bad.

Madelyn leads you into an adjacent room where the president of the club is sitting at a table waiting for you. She smiles when you enter, motioning to the seat across from her, and it feels strangely like entering the principal’s office in elementary school, like you’re in trouble for something. The club president doesn’t spare any time for pleasantries and instead cuts right to the chase, something that you’re grateful for.

“I’m not gonna take up anymore of your time, but after seeing you and your partner perform so well in this contest, I only have two questions for you,” she explains. “This is our second year running this contest and no one has scored as high as you two have, which is kind of insane because the third round scores haven’t been added yet.” You smile politely, honestly unsure of what to say, but the club president continues. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Going on three months,” you respond, thinking back to the timeline you and Paige had agreed on, hoping your voice doesn’t shake. You are a little surprised by how real your next words feel. “We were best friends for a really long time before then – we still are. Paige is just…that kind of person that makes you feel like you’ve spent forever with her, you know?”

The club president hums, agreeing. She pauses before glancing up at you, studying your features. “What’s something that you haven’t told your girlfriend, but you would want her to know?”

You hardly need the time to think about your answer, responding, “That I love her.” The club president’s expression softens, a smile growing on her face. “We haven’t, um, gotten there yet, but I mean it. I wanna make it perfect for her. She’s given so much to me in the short time we’ve been together and in the time we were friends. And she just…she means everything to me.”

She smiles. “I think you guys are perfect for each other.”

Despite yourself, you smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks. “I think so, too.”

After your solo questioning wraps up, you meet Paige at your table and you offer her a bashful grin, similar to the one she’d offered you when she returned. You don’t have the chance to say anything else to her as the final round of eliminations are being announced. You and Paige are spared, which doesn’t surprise you, and the two eliminated couples take their loss with dignity as they exit. Paige links her hand with yours – final three. In third place, Team Parker. In second…Team Hayes, which means that first place can only be –

“Team Bueckers.”

You and Paige relax immediately, high fiving each other in celebration. What you’re not fully expecting is the tight hug that Paige pulls you into, whispering a fond good job into your ear, although you can’t help the way you soften, sinking into her embrace. She leads you to the center of the room to collect your goodie basket. The various club members send you off with their congratulations, too, and you pretend to not notice the slick wink that Madelyn shoots you as you and Paige walk out.

The night air is cool, making you shiver slightly, and Paige doesn’t hesitate before she’s sliding off her blazer and settling it over your shoulders. You smile gently at her. “You won’t be cold?” you murmur.

“Nah,” she promises, nudging you. “I can handle it. You, though? I’on know.”

“That’s no way to treat someone who just won you these spa coupons,” you say, reaching into the gift basket to wave said coupons in the air. “C’mon, I clutched up, you can’t lie. And to think you wouldn’t have even had a partner for this if you didn’t rope me into it. I think we played our parts pretty well.”

Paige laughs gently, a tinkling sound that carries over the drag of the wind. “You still don’t get it, do you?” she asks, but there’s no true offense behind her words.

You stare at her in confusion. “Get what?” you respond.

“Do you remember that question Madelyn asked you earlier?” Paige says, her steps slowing, tilting her head down to look at you. The street lights reflect off of her face so beautifully, the blue of her eyes illuminated by the soft light. You can’t help the way your heart constricts at the sight. “‘Who confessed to who?’” You hum, urging her to go on. “You remember what I said? That you were oblivious and I dropped a lot of hints you didn’t pick up on?”

The gears in your brain spin for a few revolutions before everything clicks into place. “Oh my God,” you breathe out. “Are you–”

“Confessing?” she says, her lips quirking into a smile. “Yeah.”

“You dropped hints before?”

“So many,” she confirms.

“Oh my God,” you say again. You stop in your tracks, prompting her to do the same. The expression on her face is endlessly amused. “You planned a huge romantic thing – this?”

She shrugs. “The contest was the club’s shit, but yeah. I planned on asking you to come with me to this. I didn’t actually care about the prize, but the coupons are pretty sweet, right?”

You shake your head, ignoring her rambling. “You planned a huge romantic thing, but I still didn’t get it at the end, so you told me straight up,” you finish, partly in disbelief. “You think you’re so fucking slick, don’t you?” you accuse, which just makes her break out into laughter. “You literally sat next to me and told me exactly how you were going to ask me out and I didn’t know? And not only did you do that, but you were right about it?”

“I know you,” Paige says a little smugly. “And I told you that I could be romantical.”

“You are such a pain in my ass,” you whisper, but her arm is slinking around your waist, pulling you into her body as she grins insufferably, and you let yourself be pulled, your hands resting on her chest. “You are literally so annoying.”

Her nose brushes yours as she inches a little closer. “You know what they asked me in the final round?” she says, her voice loud enough for only you to hear. You nod. “They said, ‘What’s something you haven’t told your partner, but you’d like to?’”

“Funny,” you say. “They asked me the same thing.”

She smiles at you. “I told them I’d tell you that I love you,” she confesses.

Your cheeks burn as you register her words. “Funny,” you say again. “I told them the same thing.”

Her expression shifts, something like relief flashing in her eyes, something tender in her gaze. “Did you?”

“Well, I told them that’s what I would tell my girlfriend,” you trail off intentionally. “Seeing as I don’t currently have one of those…”

“Don’t play,” Paige murmurs, squeezing your hip gently, drawing a laugh from you. “Be mine?”

“You gonna share those coupons?”

Her eyes are bright when she responds. “I’on even care about them. Just want you.”

“You’ve got me.”

That promise is all she needs. She smiles at you, happiness in her features, and she doesn’t waste any time before she’s leaning in fully, her lips finding yours. You’re eagerly responding, melting into her as her arm tightens around your waist. You loop yours around her neck, standing on the tips of the toes for better leverage. Before you know it, her grin grows too wide and the two of you are laughing against each other’s lips, the sound of your love and giddiness the perfect way to end a perfect night. If you had Paige Bueckers and her annoyingly charming antics to look forward to, then one thing is for certain – you couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for Valentine’s Day next year.

[theotherchaospixel]

Her voice boomed, echoed, reverberated across time.

Truth be told, it was really boring. Infinity is just one of those things humans don't understand right. Before I did anything, there was nothing. Nothing, nothing, & more nothing. An infinite nothing. A lot of it. I'm sure you've written before.

Yeah? So what if I have? I could feel Her invisible hand pointing my head down, toward the rock at my feet. A pebble, really, and that was an overstatement.

I'm sure you're aware of the pit in your stomach that grows as you stare at an empty page. Imagine that feeling, multiplied by 6.

I stifled a laugh. Why 6? I could feel Her roll their eyes, if She had eyes, if there were eyes to speak of anywhere, and after a moment, the rock looked at me. With the eyes it didn't have.

It took 6 days before I even started thinking about doing anything, obviously! On the 7th, just before I resolved to spend the next week making life, time, space, the void, stars, nebulae, galaxies, & of course, Saturn, I looked at my clock & panicked, realizing how close to the date I was.

I couldn't quite make sense of what She was telling me. Days? Clock? Date? I thought time didn't exist before that week.

It didn't.

That was where Her thought ended. Silence fell across the plane, across the gaping canyon before me, after me, around me. Minutes passed, centuries passed, empires fell to dust; the rock at my feet wore away into nothing then reconstituted itself. It had been about 5 seconds.

Confusing, I know. That's how the art of creation tends to be. It gets hard to know where you end & the art begins.

None of this really answered my question. What was the nothing like? I could feel the inferno in Her heart, the tsunamis in Her eyes, the earthquakes in Her feet, the tornados in Her hands, as she fidgeted. I'm getting on Her nerves. Not great. I know She's my friend, but making a friend mad was always the last thing I wanted.

The first 6 days were boring, the 7th was stressful, what you want from me, Larry?!?

What was it like though?!? Were you hungry? Did you do it because you wanted to, or because you had to? Her voice echoed again. It was my voice. The rock nudged my feet a bit.

Why do you do anything? Because you have to, or because you want to, or because you need to?

The rock looked up at me again. It wasn't mine before, but somehow, it was now. It was always Hers, but there was something else there now, something ineffable. A love, almost. She sighed. The clouds parted & danced.

On the first day, before time began, there was nothing. It was dark. Second day, same as the first. You get the idea. A whole lot of nothing, but not like when you look up into the night sky and see the spaces between stars nothing; more like when you go to sleep and dream sweet nothings, that kind of nothing. It was like that all seven days, really.

I didn't understand. Things happened in dreams, after all; they were far from nothing. And reading my mind like a book, She continued.

You know how, when you stare at a blank page for long enough, you can see small designs, patterns in the pulp that made it? How if you stare at the floor for long enough, you can see pictures, stories that never happened? How when you look up at the clouds, you see things within them, even though you know that they're just random formations of dust & water vapor? Imagine the page, the patterns, the clouds required in order to see everything that ever was, ever is, & ever will be. Imagine the detail & size of the floor required in order to see all that ever might be. Now, take a step back. It's a blank canvas again. Focus on any part, and you could see everything. People come & go. Empires rise & fall. Seasons change. Time goes on. Step back again, and it's still a blank canvas. Infinite possibility, if you can only bring yourself to paint. Once I had the canvas, it took me several days just gather up the gall to do anything with it, and a whole other day to figure out what. An infinity of possibility, a true, endless ocean of choices.

And this is what you came up with?

Yeah. Pretty cool, right?

I wasn't impressed. And as if She knew it, Her deft, invisible hand pushed my head down to the rock once more.

Look at this pebble. Not impressive, right? Hardly bigger than an eraser. But it's been around the world three separate times. And inside it once. I mean, if you count all of it as one thing, and I know you do. A bit of sand off the coast of what you know now as California, 40 billion years ago, drifted off to sea. Decades later, it washed up on the shore of what is currently Japan. It sat there for a while, as more bits of sand slowly built on top of it. Just a couple million years. Then slowly, over several million more years, the winds carried it across the continent, inch by inch, molecule by molecule. It ended up inside a volcano for a few millennia. And now it's here. Really, it's basically a whole different rock than it started, but it never changed in big swathes. So, that's neat. Billions of years, all to get here, to be in the same room as you & me.

But what was Her point?

My point is that I really can't explain to you what it was like before I made everything. I could swarm you with half a trillion analogies & metaphors & anecdotes & stories, but I'll never be able to explain it to you in full. But if you've written - & I know you have, Larry, you scoundrel, writing things like that - but if you've written, I think you get it. If you've painted, or knit, or drawn, or coded, or sewn, or sung, or played or danced or thrashed or cooked, you get it. Before there is anything, there is love & a dream, and you'd be amazed how far that can take you.

.

.

.

.

.

So it was kinda boring?

Yeah it was kinda boring.

"Hey god?" "Yes, Larry?" "You existed before the universe, right? And supposedly always existed?" "Yes, that's true." "What was infinity like, before you made the universe?" "Ah. Not one human has asked me that before. Well, I guess it's time I tell someone about before the first 7 days."

[strwbrychffoncke]

"its not too late to admit you love me,, 3.6k words synopsis: long having thought your love was unrequited ,you think its time to move on and seek help from the man causing the issue in the first place not knowing the storm this brews within him contains: angst -> fluff lnds zayne x mc!reader ,mutual pining but u both are kind of dumb ,caleb mention ,"unrequited" love (but not rly bc its mutual?) -> requited ,dates ,yearner!reader ,angst (self-inflicted on both ends) ,light teasing ,romantic gestures (zayne) ,night stroll ,confession ,playful banter ,um i think thats it note: (unedited!) happy valentines day~ im working on another fic that will hopefully also get out today bc its vday themed n silly....

-

"i think im going to confess to caleb."

zayne felt his world stop when you'd spoken those words to him oh-so casually, seated on the couch of his house as you had many times before, sipping on a cup of tea he'd brewed for you to chase away the cold of the outdoors.

he blinks once, staring down at you for a moment. your gaze was trained on the tea in the mug, watching the steam rise and breathing in the fragrant scent, allowing it to fill your senses in an attempt to calm your beating heart.

zayne takes a seat on the left-most side of the sofa, leaving a middle cushion space between you both, setting his own mug of tea down on the nearby coffee table beside a plate of cookies he'd grabbed for the both of you to snack on.

despite the storm of thoughts brewing in his mind, his expression remains neutral.

"i see."

a simple answer, the only one that he can conjure up in the moment.

you peek up at him trying to catch any hint of his feelings in those captivating eyes of his.

"what... do you think?"

"should i be the one to have an opinion on this?"

"well, do you think he'll... reciprocate?"

"is that not the reason you're confessing in the first place?"

you let out a frustrated groan. an amused grin ghosts the corners of zayne's lips.

"zayyyne, don't tease me right now, i'm serious!"

he resists the urge to laugh at the cute expression on your face. you really never changed.

"well, is there something that pushed you to make the decision like this?"

sheepish, you look back down at the tea in your hands, feeling the warmth seep through your hands, kicking your feet back and forth beneath you, lightly hitting the soft material beneath you.

"i just thought... its been long enough, you know?"

he tilts his head at a slight angle, reaching for a cookie on the small plate and taking a bite, seemingly losing himself in thought.

sure, he'd noticed. its not something that he particularly found to be a secret, even without you directly telling him of your attraction to the kind, doting boy you'd grown up with.

but he wasn't sure that you'd ever act on it.

thanks to that, he thought he'd had more than enough time to will himself to be honest with you...

but today, it seems that time had run out.

"have you thought about the method? even if its something one could say at any time, the execution is what you're also worried about, no? not to mention the timing."

given his logical side, you had trouble deciding whether opening up to zayne really was the best option (that, and your lingering feelings for him welling deep within you heart), but listening to his words, you remember why no one else could help as much as him in the first place.

"wow zayne, have you confessed to someone or something? is this something i dont know about?"

he scoffs, eyes lingering on your for a moment before they shift elsewhere in the room.

"hardly. it just seems like the most logical things one might be concerned with in this sort of situation. not to mention," he leans forward, reaching for another cookie.

"i know you."

your heart jumps in your chest.

you watch the doctor before you casually consume another sweet cookie, and when he looks over again, you hastily shift your gaze, taking another sip of the tea in your hands.

"right," you murmur once you let the liquid rush down your throat.

"i'm not sure how much assistance i can offer you, but granted thats what you're asking..."

"i'll pay you in one, no, two boxes of macarons! and.. the next time we go to that cafe, it'll be my treat!"

you're suddenly full of energy again, eyes wide and pleading as you negotiate with zayne, his slightly narrowed eyes staring back.

how could he ever deny you anything when you ask like that?

he huffs out a breath through his nose, reaching for the teacup.

"i'll see what i can do."

he watches you over the rim of the cup as you cheer, expression bright as you finally reach over and shove one of the cookies into your own mouth in triumph, a couple of crumbs sticking to the edges of your lips.

you don't notice the pointed stare, and he's grateful you seem distracted enough to not have caught onto the slightly-off tone of his voice or the sight of his thoughts running rampant through his brain.

the price of your happiness this time tasted bitter on his tongue, no matter how many sweet cookies he tried ridding it with.

-

zayne's thoughts lingered on that conversation as he types on his computer in his office the following day.

it was silly, wasn't it? thinking so much about this sort of thing.

it didn't seem to be in zayne's character, but really, he found these new sides of himself thanks to you.

it always led back to you.

he thought about you, the way you were never afraid to speak and tease him like you would anyone else, taking the time to get acquainted with him back then despite how reserved he was.

and yet...

he thought about how he was a stark contrast to the pilot of your affections, caleb.

even back then, zayne didn't doubt caleb's fondness for you.

he didn't think you really needed his help if you wanted to confess to him that badly. but he didn't tell you that.

instead, he used this as an excuse to spend what time he thought he had left with you before it would inevitably be taken up by the love from your childhood.

-

you felt... conflicted.

was this really what you wanted, or only what you thought you wanted?

for as long as you could remember, you had been taken with zayne.

something about the stark contrast to your familiar companion caleb intrigued you, and you quickly formed a friendship with him, whether he wanted to or not.

thinking back, you wonder if you actually forced it on him.

he never really denied you of what you wished to do, always letting you take the lead and allowing you entry into his life after you had barged in through the shut door.

maybe... there was never a chance for you.

you heave out a long sigh, flipping another page of the scrapbook filled with pictures of the three of you.

your eyes trail over a picture of you, caleb and zayne together. it was a bright day when you all played together, and you don't really remember who it was that took the picture. you're the only one not looking at the camera, gaze trained elsewhere while caleb is beaming a radiant closed-eyed smile and zayne his usual reserved expression, eyes wide under his large glasses.

your eyes linger on the young zayne for awhile, subconsciously smiling to yourself. he actually was quite camera shy, but never turned down taking a picture with you.

(you didn't know it, but he wanted to immortalize those memories, and it was something that he often looked back on in the time you two had lost contact).

your eyes then trail over to the young caleb, your gege that you had grown up with, the one who probably knew you better than anyone else in the world.

he was bright, thoughtful, and though he always teased you, you knew it came from a place of care and affection for you.

the thought of confessing to him made you nervous, but not in the same way you felt when you'd think about the same scenario happening with zayne.

so, were you really going to go through with this? or were you just trying to convince yourself that you had to get over yourself when it came to zayne?

you close the memory book, face planting into the pillows of your bed with a groan.

what a dream it would be if zayne li could ever think of you as something other than a childhood nuisance, you thought.

-

the more you prepared, the less you wanted to go through with it.

sure, caleb was everything anyone could want, not to mention attractive to anyone that took one glance at him, but could you really see yourself with him? after fantasizing about what it'd like to be by zayne's side, pulled into his embrace, graced by his affections?

despite this, you still spent the time with zayne, because how could you ever pass up an opportunity with him, as busy as he was?

you learned just how romantic the doctor could be, and you were filled with both giddiness and feelings of envy at the thought of someone else seeing this side of him for real.

tonight was the third "date" (as you liked to imagine them in your head, knowing full-well you were the only one who thought as such) he'd taken you on— a sort of "practice," as he called it— while telling you about what night dates might entail. the other two he had taken you on were during the morning and noon, his objective being that of showing you the different moods the date can create at certain times of the day.

it wasn't something you'd ever considered, but you considered yourself lucky being taken out to breakfast then the library for the first date, and having a picnic lunch and taking a stroll together for the second.

it was like getting a taste of something you knew would never be yours. the flavor of a dessert that wasn't meant for you.

it was bittersweet.

tonight, zayne had picked you up after telling you to dress nicely since he was taking you out to dinner, having made reservations at a fairly nice spot in the city. after scouring your wardrobe, you hoped the simple satin figure-hugging slip dress with matching heels and pretty accessories would do, not knowing how fancy the restaurant he was taking you to really was.

he'd opened the passenger door for you when you exited your apartment, something that he'd done the past two times as well, and allowed himself to get a good look at your outfit, feeling his ears burn at seeing you in such unfamiliar attire.

you looked beautiful.

when he made his way back into the drivers seat, he reached back to pluck a hidden rose from the backseat, offering it to you.

"for you," he whispered, watching you stare in awe for a moment before you took it.

no one had given you any flowers before. you felt butterflies.

"thank you..." you sighed, finger tracing the dainty petals.

"while simple, flowers can be a rather thoughtful gift to give to someone. often, they can relay messages without words, but it can also be seen solely for aesthetic value if the recipient isn't familiar with the language of flowers."

your heart sank.

right. this wasn't for real.

you hummed in acknowledgement, eyes trained on the flower to refrain from looking too longingly at the handsome doctor next to you as he began driving you both to your destination.

"by the way..." his steady voice filled the silence that had enveloped you, the sound invading your ears. you looked up, curious.

"you look lovely tonight."

he offered a small smile, eyes full of a certain fondness that you couldn't really convey from his gaze trained forward, voice soft yet full of raw honesty.

momentarily shocked, you quickly regain your bearings.

"take a look at yourself, doctor."

he grinned, amused.

"it's only natural to want to dress well when taking a beautiful lady out for the evening."

he hopes you know he means every word.

even if this is under the guise of helping you, he so carefully planned out these dates with your enjoyment in mind, having wanted nothing more than to indulge you in a more romantic atmosphere before losing you forever.

but you didn't need to know that.

when you didn't respond with another quip, he glanced over to you, catching sight of your sheepish expression.

"sure..." you mumbled, looking down at your lap.

the radio filled the silence, and you were only grateful for another sound to focus on besides your rapidly beating heart.

. . .

the longer the evening stretched, the harder it was for zayne to keep his composure.

dinner went smoothly. he made several points about this type of date, but noticed you asked far less questions than the past two times he'd taken you out.

once the "lesson talk" ceased, conversation and the usual teasing flowed easily between the two of you.

even with the various other guests in the dining room, its like his world was only enveloped by you.

he only ever saw you.

he took a sip of his drink, allowing himself to sink into the enjoyment of the evening for as long as he was allowed.

. . .

at some point, you decided that tonight was the night for a confession.

just... not in the way that you may have intended.

you think, after going on these "dates" with zayne, spending time together that was much more intimate than before did worse things for your long-lasting feelings, and if you were going to do anything about them, it had to be tonight.

even if he only ever saw you as a childhood companion. this might be the only way to finally, truly move on.

the night was still young by the time dinner was finished, and upon zayne's suggestion, you both decided to take a stroll around the area. it wasn't too crowded and was fairly lit up, and the weather was nice enough to take your time to simply sightsee a little.

how funny. the atmosphere was what one might call perfect for this.

conversation flows again like normal, and when a comfortable silence envelops the space, you encourage yourself to go through with it.

its now or never...!

you take a deep breath before starting.

"zayne?"

he hums.

"what happens if... my confession is rejected?"

he spares you a fleeting glance before looking straight back ahead.

"i wouldn't worry about that."

you can't help the pout that adorns your face at such a response.

"its always a possibility, isn't it?" you quip.

"i doubt it, in this such case."

his response is muttered, but you still catch it.

"well, what if he's weirded out, or— or what if he's never thought of me that way? what if i've only ever just been that 'childhood-companion-turned-nuisance because of the way i forced him into a friendship?"

your voice is quiet when you let the last admission slip from your lips.

"what if... he can't fathom the idea of loving me back because of how he sees me?"

you think you've said too much, that its clear you're no longer talking about caleb.

you both stop walking. the momentary silence feels deafening.

"is that what you think?"

his voice is hushed, but its still loud enough for your ears only. your mind is screaming at you.

its now or never—!

"zayne, i—"

he turns to you, looking straight into your eyes.

"i've loved you ever since we were children, even when i didn't quite comprehend the idea of what romantic love was yet. i have only ever had eyes for you, you're always on my mind, and i find myself looking forward to the time we spend together."

your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, heart pounding harder with every word that spills from the handsome doctor's lips.

"i know my timing isn't the best, but even i was unsure of the nature of our relationship. but..." his hand lifts yours towards his lips, and you feel a soft warmth graze the back of your palm.

"contrary to your belief, i don't think he could fathom the idea of not loving you."

when he finishes his confession, you think your heart might beat right out of your chest.

"forgive me," he murmurs, releasing your hands and taking a step back. you already miss his warmth, body tingling at the instinct to reach out and pull him close once more.

when silence envelops you both again, he presumes he won't get his answer tonight.

"its quite late. we should head back—"

before he can turn on his heel, you close the distance, hands latching on to one of his.

"zayne!"

startled, he looks down at you, face expressing pure surprise. but he doesn't push you away.

"i..." you breathe out a laugh, looking up at him as you feel tears well up in your eyes.

"i thought... you never felt the same."

zayne remains quiet, but his eyes hold shock. you squeeze his hand tighter, smiling.

"i always thought... you weren't interested in me, didn't see me that way. all these years, i had willed myself to forget about you, to bury my feelings. that's where caleb came in, but..."

a tear rolls down your cheek.

"they never left. i.... i've always loved you, too."

zayne takes in every word, and wonders for a moment if he might be dreaming.

when more tears fall and you release his hand to wipe them away, his moves up to cup your face, willing your gaze towards him.

"do you mean it?"

its a whisper in the wind, for your ears only.

"yes," you breathe, one hand holding his over your cheek, pressing yourself closer into his hold.

he huffs out a laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"it seems neither of us are quite smart in this area, are we?"

you sniffle before laughing with him. he swipes away another stray tear with his thumb.

"so, your plan all along was to make me jealous enough to confess?"

you gasp, turning your face away from him.

"no way! i stopped trying that tactic a long time ago when i realized it didn't work."

the pout on your face is palpable. he grips your chin between two fingers, turning your face back to face him properly.

"what if i told you... it did work, its just that a certain someone wasn't the most observant?"

your eyes fill with surprise again.

"really?!"

"really."

you huff out a breath of frustration.

"wow, this is— wow."

he smiles, reaching for your hand and allowing you to make the move in interlacing your fingers together. you do so eagerly.

"come on, lets head to that cafe, it should still be open. i was promised a treat, after all."

you let out a playful scoff, looking up at the amused doctor.

"that was if you helped me to confess!"

"is that not what that was?"

you make an unamused sound in the back of your throat, and zayne only laughs.

"that sound is like the one the cat at your apartment makes when it hasn't had enough snacks."

"oh, hush," you urge, but only grip onto his hand tighter, almost as if to prove to yourself that this was indeed real.

a comfortable silence fills the space when zayne's steps slow. you look up at him, and notice him staring up at the sky.

"the moon looks beautiful tonight."

you look up in search of it to confirm his words, not noticing his gaze having shifted towards you by then.

"yeah," you smile, already knowing the underlying message woven into his words.

"so beautiful."

-

epilogue

"another thing."

your eyes flit up from your dessert to zayne's face, his eyes trained on the cake before him, dragging a piece with his fork, the sponge secure on the spikes.

"how could you ever think i considered you a nuisance?"

your eyes widen. right, you did admit that earlier...

you laugh sheepishly, poking at your pastry with your own fork.

"haha, well, when i thought back to it, it seemed like i was the one that forced my friendship upon you."

zayne tilts his head slightly, expression quizzical. you continue.

"i... was always the one dragging you around to play with caleb and i. even now, i guess it felt like you went along with what i wanted out of... obligation or pity or something."

zayne frowns at this, deepening at the edges when you finish this off with a laugh.

you peek up at him when he's been quiet for a touch too long.

"how odd."

you raise a brow at him.

you miss his hand raising up to pinch your cheek. you let out a small surprised yelp, swatting at his hand.

"hey—!"

"you should know by now that i don't do things i don't wish to, nor have i ever been known to have many friends."

he scoops up another piece of cake with his fork.

"so, if someone always went along with you instead of pushing you away, it must mean they wanted to spend time with you, maybe even found amusement in the way that someone always went out of their way to play and spend time with that person, yes?"

he shoves the cake into his mouth as he finishes. you're left staring dumbly at him, swatting movements halting as you process his words.

he squishes the flesh softly between his fingers, swallowing the sweet dessert.

"don't ever refer to yourself as a nuisance again. you're anything but, and i'll prove it to you time and time again if i must"

he releases your cheek, retracting his hand.

"if i didn't make it clear earlier, i always cherished you the most."

your heart warms, and you reflect the smile that peeks through zayne's lips.

"i bet i cherished you more," you tease, picking up a piece of your dessert with your fork.

"nonsense," zayne states almost dramatically, eyes narrowing at you playfully.

you laugh joyfuly.

what a dream it was that zayne li had always reciprocated the feelings that you felt for him all these years, you thought.

-

a/n: this is my apology for the last zayne fic that i did not like n almost deleted but left up bc someone liked it. will slowly work on the rest of the event fics ,fear not (thought ab extending it through the month/to white day? undecided :x) have this in the meantime bc i... like this zayne fic the most

-

[stevesgother]

Thanks for taking requests!!! Could we get some subSteve and domreader after a date and she’s driving him crazy with lingerie and maybes he’s handcuffed or can’t touch 😈

omg i'm so glad you asked bc i've had this idea for ages and now i'm finally executing it @doomsdaybby 18+ below the cut!

Pegging your boyfriend wasn't the first idea that came to mind while you were wandering the intimates aisle at Sears, but that's where the night had taken you.

It was something the two of you had talked about briefly in the past. Steve was generally more vanilla where you were more of the experimental type. You always say you'd try anything once.

You never minded that about him though; you'd even go as far as to say you loved it about him. Sex with Steve was always the most intimate and gentle thing you'd ever experienced. Like the two of your souls intertwining and becoming one; full of hand holding and intense eye contact.

"You wanna what?" Steve asks you, eyes a little wide.

"I think you'd like it, Stevie, and if you don't- we'll never do it again, okay?"

When he doesn't say anything, you push a little, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do,"

"Then let's try it," you suggest, rubbing his arm in a soothing gesture, "the second you want to stop you can just say, i don't know, pineapple or something."

He nods and your face lights up. How could he ever be expected to say no to such an angel?

That's how Steve ended up tethered firmly to your shared bedframe with two silk ties, as not to hurt his wrists. You had come sauntering out of your bathroom in the sexiest set of white lace lingerie Steve thinks he's ever seen. The cups hold the weight of your breasts perfectly, giving you just enough cleavage for it to still look natural. It was classically elegant and the hottest thing he's ever seen you wear; even complete with a little lace garter secured snugly to your thigh.

You could hear his breath hitch in his throat as you approached him. One knee at a time, you moved to straddle him on the bed as seductively as possible.

He already looked like a disheveled mess-- his hair mussed in all different directions and a pink tinge spreading from his sternum all the way to the tips of his ears. You leaned down and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along that very path before reaching his ear and whispering, "Breathe, baby."

He makes a concerted effort to control his breaths. Out of nervousness or excitement, he's not sure.

You begin by kissing a path from his earlobe to his mouth, deepening the kiss with you tongue once you reach his waiting lips. His instinct is to touch you-- to rove his hands up and down your thighs or grope your breasts, but his hands are met with immediate resistance when he tries to.

You don't flag him for it, trying to go easy on him; simply continuing your ministrations on his mouth and starting a low grind of your hips over his pelvis.

He whines into your open mouth, clearly feeling impatient despite his earlier trepidation, so you lick and kiss a path down his chest-- stopping to swirl a tongue around his perked nipple. You've never done that before, and it sends Steve reeling. His hips buck involuntarily and a whimper of your name escapes him.

"Do-- Do that again," he pants, so you do.

You conclude your journey down his torso by mouthing at his waiting length through his briefs. Again, he tries to fist his hand in your hair before remembering that he cannot and huffing in frusteration.

"I know, poor baby," you mock pout at him, though you really do feel some level of sympathy for his current predicament-- despite your knowledge of how much he'll enjoy what comes next.

You pull his boxers down his hairy thighs, letting his cock spring free. Just from some heavy petting, he's already leaking and a shade of fiery red. He groans deep in his chest as you take his tip in your wet mouth, swirling your deft tongue along his slick and collecting the pearling precum there.

You hum and moan some of your own, knowing just how delicious the vibrations will feel against his shaft. His chest heaves up and down more quickly now, so you decide to check in.

"How're you doin' love? This okay?"

"Yes--" he breathes, "More, please,"

"So polite," you smile before taking his length as far into your throat as it can physically go.

As you bob up and down on his length, your nose brushing the thatch of hair at his base with every downward stroke, you bring a finger to the space between his cheeks; circling experimentally. You didn't want to warn him first and make him more anxious, and he jolts at the sensation.

"Relax, Steve," you hush, "I promise it'll feel so good,"

He trusts you with ever microfiber of his being, so he let's you continue without question. He hasn't been this nervous for sex with you since your first time together.

You bring your index and middle fingers to your lips and suck them into your mouth, getting them properly soaked before bringing them back to his hole and continuing your efforts. His cock tenses and jumps when you breach his entrance just slightly.

"You still with me?" You ask, "This okay?"

"Mhm--" he responds, eyes pinched tightly closed, "Feels good,"

"Let me grab some lube,"

You reach over to the bedside table next to Steve's head and his eyes follow you the entire time. When you acquire the bottle, you pop the top open and squeeze a generous amount onto your fingers.

"Gonna be a little cold," you warn.

Only once you're deemed slippery enough do you take your index finger and fully sheath him on it.

"H--oh, that's good, baby, keep going," he moans from where he lays in front of you on the bed.

You spend close to fifteen minutes just like that. Easing him onto your fingers while mouthing over his cock. Eventually you stop touching him there altogether, only focusing on where your fingers are knuckle-deep inside him. You begin to pump them in and out a bit faster now that he's had a chance to acclimate.

"Good boy," you praise and he whines instantly. You'll be locking that away for future use. "Want you to come like this, think you can do that for me?" You ask in the most sultry voice you can muster despite how wet you're growing between your own legs. Watching him unravel like this might be the sexiest thing you've ever done.

"Yeah, baby-- don't stop," tears begin to brim his lashes, and you can't help but take some pity on him. Your free hand comes up to massage his sac as you continue your work on his ass.

You've never seen anyone come untouched before, let alone Steve, but here you think it actually might happen. So you add one more finger to give him that final push over the edge of ecstasy.

"Ahh!" He cries out and his cock tense that much more, "Gonna come baby, you're gonna make me--" he can't even finish his sentence with the pleasure you're giving him right now.

You bring your mouth to replace your hands on his balls and that's it. The coil in his belly twists beyond it's snapping point and he's coming undone with a shout. It only spurs you on more.

Once he's rode out his high, you pull your fingers from him and he writhes with overstimulation. You crawl your way up his body, peppering his damp skin with kisses as you go.

"You did so good, Stevie," you praise, "love you so much,"

"Love you too, baby," he breathes as he plants a languid kiss against your lips. You can feel his grin against your skin.

"Can you untie me?" He chuckles and glances to where he's still attached to the bedpost.

"Oh, yeah, obviously,"

The second he's free he envelopes you in a suffocating embrace. In any other circumstance, Steve is the giver. You're just glad you were able to give him a taste of what he's always given you.

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Director's Commentary:

First of all, THIS HIT 200 NOTES IN LESS THAN 2 DAYS????? 🥺💝🥺💝🥺💝🥺💝 Thank you SO MUCH EVERYBODY, I have never had any of my self ship art get this many notes this quickly!! I've also screenshotted every tag I've gotten and will continue to do so! Thank you so much everyone 🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖

Second, I hope that everyone knows I did this 100% original! I have actually had more than one person call this an edit, which makes me very proud of how convincing this apparently is as an imitation of the PPG style! 🥺 But no, I did all of this by hand myself! The screenshots were just referenced :D

Y'all should also know that I don't have any type of tablet or way to do digital art with a pen, I use Adobe Illustrator and only use my mouse. For the first image I did a sketch of the pose on paper and traced over digitally, but I'm proud to say for the other two I did it entirely originally using just reference images and my own imagination! That's something I'm usually not really able to do so I'm very happy that the final result came out so good

The context of the original scene is that Ms. Keane and Professor Utonium just went on a failed date that was set up by the girls, but ended up sharing a little moment after Ms. Keane accidentally tripped and the Professor ended up catching her. I'd like to think the context here is essentially the same, but I'd consider it an AU scenario because there wouldn't be a time in my ship canon where this setup would happen before Cherry and Mojo are dating.

I came up with Cherry's outfit kind of on the spot, it's basically just a fancy version of their normal outfit, with a low cut white shirt, yellow and orange cardigan, and some nice tan boots. They borrowed the choker with the pendant from their cousin, Ms. Bellum :3

I find it funny to think that Mojo wouldn't really wear an actual outfit out on a date, because in his mind, what fit could possibly be better than the villain outfit he designed for himself? He just put on a bowtie to be slightly more fancy 💖 That's actually a reference to the panel below from a DC PPG comic where he's trying to find a date for Valentine's Day and failing... I would have been there for him 🥺

Also I liked the idea of the moon being bright enough to shine through the back of Mojo's big ears, which is why the shading on them if a bit oddly shaped. No one has mentioned anything about that yet so I'm not sure how obvious that came across 😅

Ngl I struggled a bit on the background of Mojo's panel just because it's a unique perspective that I hadn't tried before, so I went and laid down on the floor in the corner of my room to see how the perspective of that looked 😂

In fact now that I think about it... This is the first time I've ever done a full color background at all, digitally OR traditionally. I'd say for my first time it came out pretty good!

In general I'm very happy with the end results, although there are a few mistakes here and there, like there's a secrion of Cherry's shadow that's not filled in all the way, and I think some of the background colors could be better adjusted so they don't blend together as much (especially the bench, what was I thinking making it so similar to the wall color aaaaaah)

That's all I can think of for now that I'd like to comment on. Once again thank you to everyone who has liked or reblogged and an even bigger thank you if you read this far! 🥺💝💝💝💝💝

There are benefits to being clumsy... sometimes you get to fall into the arms of a handsome chimpanzee 💜🩷💜🩷💜

Screenshot redraw of a cute scene from what's basically PPG's Valentine Day special! This was so fun to do, I feel like I learn more abt using Illustrator every time I go back to it :3 🩷 Reblogs are all seen and appreciated, click for higher quality!! Tag list + Screenshots referenced will be under the cut 💜

Tag List!! Click here to be added or removed.

@absentmoon, @avas-wonderland, @bee-ships, @beetleboyfriend, @berryshipbasket, @bugthecalmchild, @canongf, @cloudyvoid, @derelictdumbass, @dissonantyote, @edencantstopfallininlove, @final-catboy, @chickenout , @flowering-darkness, @gibles-lovely-selfships, @hoppinkiss, @hyperionshipping, @impulse-exe, @iwishihadfangs, @iyamifucker, @kissingarthurclaus, @lex-n-weegie, @lficanthaveloveiwantpower, @little-miss-selfships, @little-shiny-sharpies, @loogi-selfships, @mandrakebrew, @midoridayz, @mintpecks, @mothfinite, @mrs-kelly, @nameless-self-ships, @nerdstreak, @odysseyyaoi, @oleanderspride, @orbitingaroundyourlove, @paper-carnation, @reds-self-ships, @rotten--cotton , @spacestationstorybook, @squips-ship, @theheroand, @toogayforthistoday, @winterworlds, @yuzuibanagi

[11queensupreme11]

Hi! So, I actually don't know if I sent this ask cuz I wanted to send it at like 2 o'clock in the morning, and I also had the idea for the ask in what might have been a dream. Overall I am very confused, so if I did send this already or answered an ask similar to this then please ignore this 😅

So I was wondering what would happen if, in the cheating au, Percy does kill herself, but cu suddenly wakes up to when she first arrived, like in the isekai asks a while back. How insane would he be? Cuz I don't think he could just wait till the day he originally met her, and would just attack the greeks to get her back

oh i like this! back to the cú chulainn cheating au hehe (my fav au for him so far lol) and oooooooh another isekai to the past thing!!!!!!!

when cú chulainn wakes up back in his old room in his father's palace, he's gonna be confused. but then he gets the shock of his life when he sees what date it is; it wasn't just percy's "birthday" but also the year she was "born"

considering that they've been married for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years, he definitely knows about her arrival. she most likely told him what it was like, so he 100% knows to go straight to the bifrost to find her, knocks out the guards, and arrives just in time for her to fall out and catches her in his arms (awwww how romantic 💖)

this poor man is STRUGGLING not to get emotional. she's got bed hair, wearing the most ridiculous midgardian pajamas he's ever seen, and she looks lost af, but she looks absolutely BEAUTIFUL for him and he's in love all over again 🥺💖💖💖💖 he has to force himself not to be too forward; he has a chance to fix things again and he can't squander it by freaking her out.

so he plays along, acting just as clueless as her. he certainly has no idea how she got here, but he might as well take some responsibility and help the poor girl out! so he takes her back to the otherworld (the section of valhalla where the celtic pantheon resides). lugh is absolutely flabbergasted as to why his son's demanding they take in a mortal girl with an aura concerningly similar to poseidon, but he allows it thx to cú chulainn's insistence.

he tries to horde her in the palace LMAO 😭😭😭 just like the good ol days i guess. anyway, he becomes her friend and protector, the only person she can trust in this scary new universe. and he pretends to be helpful and try to find a way for her back home, when he's actually not. every day he comes with more grim news, "i'm sorry percy, no progress today", "i'm sorry, there was nothing new i could find", "i'm sorry, but things aren't looking so good..." he's trying to slowly ease her into the idea of giving on returning to that fucked up universe she calls "home", to break down every bit of hope she has left.

meanwhile, he tries to rizz her up LMAO 😭😭😭😭 but he actually knows what he's doing! this dude's a whore who slept with like... half of ireland, he is absolutely good at charming ladies. showing up shirtless and sweaty, getting in close to hear, touching her, rubbing her soothingly, etc. any girl would've swooned. the issue is that it's percy he's trying to rizz up 💀💀💀💀 percy who traveled through an entire labyrinth for days on end with a party of people who ALL liked her (anthonius, rachel, ethan) and didn't realize it 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

but it's okay cuz he knows how dense his silly (future) wife is, so he's not too irked. i know some ppl would think he'd be going insane rn, but nope! why would he fret? all the yans are out of the way, NOBODY knows of her existence aside from lugh and a few others, and he is the ONLY person she fully trusts. everything is going his way, he just needs to bide his time.

the most pressing matter is the issue of her soul. she's only got about a year before the first crack happens and she has to suffer agonizing pains 24/7, and then another year before she's obliterated for good. THAT'S his greatest worry, because he doesn't want percy to be in pain. his plan is to ascend into godhood and then ascend percy next to be his immortal wife and goddess in order to tackle the soul issue. forcing an ascension would make her hate him and he doesn't want that.

so he NEEDS her to fall in love with him fast so that the idea of eternity together wouldn't be so daunting to her. fortunately for him, getting her to fall would be easy when she's so isolated and he's the only other constant in her life 💖

also, you best believe he's never EVER going to cheat again. he's learned his lesson in the worst way possible, and he cannot ever put his beloved through that again.

[babybearnation]

Alpha driver!male reader (i headcannon that you get ur first rut/heat at like 13ish till then you smell like milk) who while being an alpha most of his life (reader is around 27) has only had one rut and that was his first one, charles(omega) lando(omega) and oscar(alpha) are concerned when reader goes into a rut and he literally can't think in a staight line (like eyes blank and no thoughts, Except him moving his hips into a pillow) and is in alot of pain when not touching atleast two of them, they take reader to a doctor they give him something while there so he's atleast coherent for an hour which leads to him explaining to the doc that this is in fact his second ever rut he's had in his life, after the doc get the info he tell lestappiatri that they need to help him if they want him to survive since most similar cases don't make it even with two partners, it ends up with them having an entire 2 weeks where 2 of them are fucking helping reader and the other is taking a break or getting them all food whenis slightly more coherent and able to eat (though those times don't last long before reader's begging to fuck or be fucked)

🥺🥺🥺

–🍑

apologies in advance, i have a feeling this is gonna be bad

omega!charles leclerc x omega!lando norris x male!alpha!reader x alpha!oscar piastri

cw: suggestive

you'd presented as an alpha at the normal age but, unlike normal, that very first rut was the only you'd had for about ten years

you were dating two lovely omegas as well as a wonderful alpha, but because of how new your relationship was, it took a while for your three boyfriends to realise that you didn't have ruts

until you fall into your second rut ever and your boyfriends rapidly learn the truth

luckily, it was very shortly after all the drivers were given free time for the off-season so you weren't being a potential inconvenience

charles, oscar & lando aren't sure what to do, watching you rut blank-eyed and mindless into a pillow over and over in a way that make oscar's unswelled knot twitch in pain

you always hissed when left with one or none of them in the room with you, so they took turns leaving to get things for you

after speaking to and arranging for a doctor to come over, charles tries to offer his body to you but you couldn't move to do anything about it and ultimately, charles backed off

the doctor comes over and gives you something to clear your rut for a small period of time

he asks you questions and charles, lando & oscar are horrified to discover that this was only your second rut

in an almost nightmarish situation, the doctor told you that you would need all three of your boyfriends help to have even a chance of avoiding falling really sick once your rut faded

the doctor prescribes you a rut-supporting medication before leaving, clearly aware that the momentary rut-supressing meds are about to wear off in only a handful of minutes

charles, lando & oscar aren't sure what's going to happen to you now but they take the remaining minutes of you being aware to get you to drink some water and eat a few slices of toast, concern evident in their voices and gazes

once the meds had fully worn off, however, you were insatiable all over again, falling back against the sheets and touching yourself over and over until lando nudged your hand away and sunk down on your cock himself, providing you that sweet, sweet relief you needed

charles leaned forward and kissed you, guiding your fingers to his slick hole, hoping it would help as well

oscar decides to play with your chest, wanting to be involved but not entirely sure what else he could do to bring you pleasure

neither of them were sure how long this would go on for but they were willing to get through it all with you because they loved you and couldn't understand how horrifying a situation like this must be to experience

and get through it they did because, before long, your rut finally passed and you were a coherent, yet very apologetic, alpha once more

your three boyfriends were instantly comforting you, promising that it was okay and hopefully, with the new medication, you'd fall into a steady rut rhythm

and you did! the medication timed your rut with lando's heat, that way you never went into it during the f1 on season

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[sequinsmile-x]

All of You, All of Me (Intertwined)

It's Valentine's Day.

It also happens to be Emily and Aaron's first date.

-x-

Hi besties <3

Happy Valentine's Day. I know it's a hallmark holiday, but I love love (brb I'm having flashbacks to my Percy Bysshe Shelly module in my English Lit A-Level) and I love all of you!

So, even if you don't celebrate - I hope you enjoy this. It's very soft, a little silly and hopefully funny in parts <3

As always, let me know what you think! -x-

Warnings: None

Words: 3.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“How about this one?” 

Emily looks over at JJ, sighing when she sees the card she’s holding up, the word love practically flashing at her from the design, “No, JJ. It can’t say ‘love’ on it.”

JJ blows out a steady breath and nods as she puts the card back before she smiles and picks up a new one.

“This one has a train on it,” she says, her smile irritatingly close to a smirk as she holds it up. Emily glares at her as she snatches it from her, careful to make sure she doesn’t bend the card as she places it back in the rack. 

“That’s the card Ralph Wiggum gives Lisa in The Simpsons,” she grumbles, blowing out a breath as she looks at all the cards and groans, “This is hopeless.” 

“Okay, what about this one?” JJ says, holding up another one, “It’s got a pun about pizza.” 

Emily sighs, “JJ - if you’re not going to help-”

“Em, you’re overthinking this,” JJ cuts over her, her smile kind, the teasing edge of it softening as she tucks the card with a cartoon slice of pizza on it back in its spot, “It’s just a card.” 

Emily rolls her eyes, “Of course, I’m overthinking it,” she looks around them and lowers her voice, making sure none of the other people in the store overhears her, “I’m finally going on my first date with Aaron and it’s on fucking Valentine’s Day.” 

When Aaron first asked her out on a date, the taste of finally on the air, she’d been as close to giddy as she ever remembered feeling. Excitement bubbling in her gut as she thought of them taking the step she’d been hoping they would for months. Somewhere along the way, he’d become her best friend, the person she trusted most in the world, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. She spent most of her spare time with him and Jack, and when she was with them she felt safer, felt more at home, than she thinks she ever had. 

She loved him. She knew she did, had even admitted it to Penelope and JJ that she did after one too many drinks on a recent girl's night, but it scared her. Made her feel vulnerable, flayed open whenever he was around. He managed to sneak under every barrier she’d ever built around herself, the foundations of them shaky after everything that had happened with Ian and her time in Paris. She loved Aaron, could see herself having everything with him, but she’d been nervous to move past friendship because she was worried about losing him if everything went wrong. 

In the end, he was the one who’d jumped for them both. His smile soft and nervous as he asked her if she wanted to go for dinner with him. It had taken her a second to realise what he was asking, her feelings for him clouding the usual intelligence she prided herself on, but it had been enough for him to start to doubt himself. He’d started to trip over his words, his eyes slightly wide, and then she kissed him, something about his nervousness that she found reassuring. The confirmation she needed that she made him feel just as flustered as he made her. 

Organising their date had, as it turned out, been the hardest part. They’d been delayed more than once by a case, and then Aaron had childcare issues, and they’d somehow found themselves with the next available day for their date being Valentine’s Day. It had piled on the pressure, made her overthink every aspect of the date, but she didn’t want to rearrange again, didn’t want to delay it. 

Especially because Aaron was a gentleman to the core and had refused to go any further than the kisses they’d exchanged since he’d asked her out. He kept putting on the brakes, his smile achingly handsome when he told her he wanted to ‘do it right’ and take her on a date first. Even though she was sure he knew her better than anyone ever had, even though she knew there was very little he could learn from her over dinner that he didn’t already know, she’d agreed because she knew it was important to him. 

Emily groans as she looks at the cards, “Why do they all say love on them?” 

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” JJ deadpans, and Emily glares at her, “Why does it matter so much, you do love him.” 

“But he doesn’t know that.” 

JJ chuckles, “Em, you do remember what he does for a living, right?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at her, “He knows.” 

“JJ-”

“Have you got a gift at least?” JJ asks, cutting over Emily’s warning tone, “Or am I going to spend the rest of my life helping to buy my boss a Valentine’s Day gift?” 

“I’ve got the gift sorted,” Emily replies, looking over the cards again, “That was easy.” 

“What did you get him?” 

“A new watch,” Emily says, not even looking over at her, “The face of his is damaged.” 

JJ pinches the bridge of her nose and presses her lips together as she looks at her friend’s profile, “What kind of watch, Emily?” 

“What?” Emily asks, finally tearing her gaze away from the cards, “Oh, a Rolex.” 

JJ’s mouth falls open, and a chuckle escapes her, “You’ve spent north of, what, $10,000 on a gift for him and you’re overthinking the card?” She laughs again, “You’re terrible at this.” 

Emily scoffs, “Of course, I’m terrible at this. Why do you think I invited you to help me?”

“Invited. Forced. Half a dozen of one, half a dozen of the other,” JJ says, smiling at her as she picks out another card, “What about this one?” 

Emily takes it from her and looks at front of it, the large pink heart on it surrounded by the question ‘Be my Valentine?’ and she sighs, “That will do I guess.” 

“Thank God,” JJ says, “Now,” her smile turns mischievous, an edge to it that looks almost entirely too much like Penelope’s doing, “Let's talk lingerie.” 

“Absolutely not,” Emily replies, smirking as she turns away from her, ignoring her friend as she shouts after her.

“You’re no fun.” 

She turns to look at her, throwing her a wink, “I’m actually planning on being a lot of fun.” 

___

He was nervous. 

He’d never actually asked someone on a date before he asked Emily. Haley had asked him out when they were in high school, braver than him even then, and he felt nothing short of ridiculous for making it so far in life without knowing how to date. 

A feeling that only increased when it became clear their first date would be on Valentine’s Day of all days. 

He’d spent longer than he cared to admit agonising over the card he’d bought Emily, something he’s sure amused the sales assistant who asked him if he was okay three times before he finally made his decision. The gift had been the easy part. He bought her something she’d mentioned off-handedly weeks ago, a fact about her that he’d stored away for a moment like this. 

He wanted to get it right, because this wasn’t just anyone - it was Emily. He’d loved her for longer than he cared to admit to himself, and been attracted to her for longer than that. She’d thrown him off for the start, something about her effortless beauty and striking intelligence enough to knock him off kilter from the first time he’d met her. She’d snuck under his defences, tore them down one by one with her empathy and her kindness, and he wasn’t sure what he’d done before her, his life now split out into two distinct parts. 

He blows out a slow breath and double checks he has everything before he gets out of his car - two cards, one from him and one from Jack, flowers - sunflowers so he didn’t poison Sergio - and the gift he’d bought for Emily. The walk to her apartment has never felt longer, each step a feeling like it takes him a lifetime, the hallway stretching out in front of him as her door seems to get further and further away. He gives himself another moment when he reaches her door, swallowing thickly before he knocks. 

She answers quickly, barely a few seconds passing before the door opens, and he’s blown away by her the moment he sees her. She’s beautiful. She’s wearing a red dress, the material clinging to her like it had been made for her, and she’s curled her hair, the ends of it catching on her collarbone. Her make-up is a little heavier than usual but all he can focus on is her eyes, he gets lost in the depth of them just like he always does. He feels his cheeks burn when she clears her throat, her smile soft and teasing when he realises he’s been staring.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she replies, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, desperately trying to contain her smile, her cheeks aching with it anyway. She looks him up and down, ignoring how her stomach flips as her eyes linger on the open top buttons on his shirt, “You look pretty good yourself,” she steps back, “Come in.”

He nods and hands over the bunch of flowers, “These are for you.” 

“Thank you,” she replies as she takes them from him, feeling nothing short of ridiculous for how a shiver runs through her body as their fingers brush against each other, “I love sunflowers. Do you want a drink?”

He looks at his watch, “Yeah, we have time before our table.” 

“Wine?” She asks, pulling a vase from the cabinet and filling it with water. She smiles when he nods, “There’s a bottle of red on the side,” she says, tilting her head towards it, “And you know where the glasses are.” 

He nods and places the cards and the gift box on the table before he gets to work pouring them a glass of wine each. When he looks up at her she’s smiling at the cards and the gift, “They’re for you.” 

She chuckles, “Thank God for that, would have been awkward if they were for someone else,” she stamps her lips against his cheek, smiling to herself when she feels him suck in a breath, “I’ll go get yours.” 

He watches her go, his eyes lingering on her legs as she walks away, the red soles of her heels drawing his attention to them before she disappears from view. She’s back within a few seconds, a box and a card in her hands and a nervous smile on her face. 

She places his gift and card down on the kitchen counter and clears her throat, “I’m not even sure how to do this.” 

He smiles, something about it soft and reassuring, and he pushes one of the cards he’d brought over towards her, “Why don’t you start with Jack’s card?” 

“Jack got me a card?” She asks, her smile so wide her cheeks ache as she picks it up and opens the envelope. She swears she can feel her heart double in size as she looks at the card, the little boy’s messy handwriting and a drawing of what she assumes is meant to be her, him and Aaron emblazoned on the front. She opens it and reads the message on the inside, the I love you in his uneven scrawl almost enough to make her cry, “This might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“He did it all himself,” Aaron says, “I was only allowed to help with spelling.” 

He was oddly jealous of his son, of how easily he could admit his love for the woman who had captured both of their hearts. The woman who had helped them both heal after the unimaginable. 

“Well, I’ll have to tell him thank you next time I see him,” she says, standing the card up on the counter, sure that she’d end up keeping it on her fridge forever, and her eyes drift back to the other cards and the gifts, “Your turn?”

“Why don’t we do the cards at the same time?” He suggests, and she nods. They laugh as they pull the cards from the envelopes, both of them realising they’d somehow, with all the options available, bought each other the same card. It eases something in both of them, tears away the last strips of awkwardness as they smile at each other fondly. She bumps her shoulder against his as she gets closer, removes any distance between them as she shifts one of the stools at her kitchen counter closer to him before she sits on it, her fingers tracing over the box he’d brought over. 

“Can I go first?” 

He nods and pushes it towards her, anxiety licking in his gut for the first time since he’d made the decision on what he was buying her, “Of course.” 

She smiles as she rips open the wrapping paper, her smile turning curious when she sees the looping French words on the outside of the box. She gasps as she opens it, the sound turning into a chuckle as she’s met with the sight of a box full of mille-feuille. 

“Aaron…” 

“You said you haven’t been able to find any decent mille-feuille since you came home,” he says, butchering the pronunciation and smiling nervously at her when she looks up at him, tearing her gaze away from the pastries, “I did some research, and these are apparently the best in DC.” 

She struggles to suck in a breath, her lungs stuffed full of everything she wants to say but can’t yet, the flowers of love she felt for him taking up all the space in her chest. He’d gone out of his way to do this for her, the street address of the bakery printed on the box told her that, but he’d also listened to her lament how the only thing she missed about her time in Paris was the amazing mille-feuilles that never seemed to be done quite right in the US. A comment she’d thrown out without thinking, without knowing he’d picked it up and kept it safe somewhere near his heart 

“I don’t even remember saying that,” she says, looking back down at the gift, “How do you remember that?” 

“I remember everything about you.” 

She’s surprised her smile can get wider, but it does. She’s surprised she can love him more than she already did, but she does. She cups his cheek and leans in to kiss him, the first, but definitely not the last, press of her lips against his that evening. She strokes her thumb over his cheek when she pulls back to look at him. 

“Thank you,” she says, kissing him again before she carefully tucks the lid of the pastry box back into place. She grabs the box with the watch in it and hands it to him, her eyes flicking to his empty wrist before she looks up at him, “Your turn.” 

The weight of the box immediately concerns him, guilt at just buying her pastries, already sparking in his gut. It catches fire as soon as he sees the Rolex logo, his eyes wide before he can even look at the watch itself. 

“A Rolex?” He says, stuttering uncharacteristically as he looks up at her, “Em, this is too much-”

“No,” she says, smiling despite his nervousness. She’d anticipated this, had known no matter what he brought her he’d argue that the watch was too expensive, that she’d spent too much money on him, “It isn’t,” she shrugs one of her shoulders, “You need a new watch.” 

He swallows thickly as he finally opens the box and looks at the watch, the steel face grand and shiny as it looks up at him, “This is…”

She takes it from him and takes the watch out of the box, pulling his left wrist towards her, because he wore it on his left despite being left-handed. It was something she’d made fun of him for endlessly, reminding him that most people wore their watches on their non-dominant hands, but it was a detail about him that she loved. Something she couldn’t help but smile at every time she noticed it. 

“It’s supposedly indestructible,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him as she loops the watch around his wrist, “So you won’t be able to break this one,” she smiles when the latch clips into place, her finger lingering over his pulse for a second longer than necessary, “And, this outside bit lets you set a second timezone. I thought it would be nice for when we’re on a case in a different timezone to Jack.” 

It feels like his chest is collapsing in on itself, the weight of her love for him, the way she’d thought so much about a watch that probably cost more than his deposit on his first house, briefly overwhelming. He looks down at his wrist, only realising then that they are holding hands, and he squeezes her fingers between his. 

“I only got you pastries.” 

He’s surprised that she laughs. It makes him look up from their joint hands, his eyebrows furrowed together as their eyes meet. 

“Aaron, I can buy myself jewellery. I don’t need you to…” she drifts off and looks at the box of pastries, “You listened to me when I didn’t even realise I needed to be listened to,” she smiles at him, hoping he ignores the shake to it, “I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me before and that’s worth so much more than anything you could buy in a store.” 

He smiles at her and this time he leans in, his nose pressed against her cheek as he kisses her. She sinks into it, and sighs contentedly as she wraps her arms around his neck, shifting impossibly closer even though they are both still sitting on stools. He pulls back as one of his thighs slots between hers, his knee forcing her legs wide enough that she can feel the tightness of her dress around her thighs. 

“We should…” he says, clearing his throat, his voice as rough as she’d ever heard it, “We should go to dinner.” 

She nods despite herself, despite the desire she feels flicking in her veins and the overwhelming urge to just lose the deposit they’d put down to secure a table on Valentine’s Day. She wants to remember this. To tell their kids and grandkids one day about their first day on Valentine’s Day. How they’d bought each other the same card and held hands over a table in a restaurant neither of them would remember the name of. 

She’d almost hate him for turning her into such a romantic if she didn’t love him so much. 

“Yeah,” she says, stamping her lips against his one more time, “Dinner. Then we’ll come back here?” 

He nods, his forehead knocking against hers, “Then we’ll come back here.” 

Two years later, they spend Valentine’s Day in Paris. Their tour of France on their honeymoon landing them in the city of romance on the most commercially romantic day of the year. They eat mille-feuille in bed, and he sets the second timezone on the watch she’d given him to the time back in DC. It’s perfect, and makes her fall back in love with a city that had once lost its shine for her, and when she leaves this time, she doesn’t only miss the pastries. 

[ashes-writing-corner]

Well nevermind I guess I'm updating today yall XD

This is probably my shortest chapter to date but it's like really important and I kinda wanted to be it's own thing. I hope you guys don't mind lore dumps here but...wanted to give some insight to Orlok's backstory here. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, @landlockedmermaid77, @uncensored-aj, @mypackpride, @whisperingwillowe, @sasksdemorg, @emimuart, and @fern-and-bone

If you wanna be added to the taglist let me know! Enjoy!!!! ^-^

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 8

I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending…

He came so close, so close. Too close. Too close to spilling everything. It was so tempting, so damn tempting. But Orlok couldn’t let himself be tempted. He couldn’t let himself face everything. It was pain that led him to this. He would not let that pain infect her too, anymore than it already did.

His pain started all of this. His grief…

No. No it wasn’t his pain. It wasn’t his grief. It was his ambition. Then it was his grief. Then it was pain. An all consuming pain that he couldn’t dare speak of…

He had tried so hard. So hard to defy his own nature, his own being for his beloved Mirela. He loved her, loved her more than power, more than anything in all the worlds. His first true, real love. She loved him as well, but fearing for his well being, she only agreed to marry him if he gave up his sorcerer’s ways.

So he did.

For a time, anyway.

But nobody could defy their nature. Not him, not anyone. Mirela, his sweet, adoring Mirela, fell ill after giving him his greatest treasure: their child, a little girl Ileana. As hard as he tried to defy his nature, to escape his fate, It came back with a fearsome vengeance. Fate, God, whatever the higher powers who cursed him so, denied him his happiness, his future.

Mirela passed of her fever, and Ileana shortly after. Liev Orlok died with them, as he lost himself once more in his drive to find a spell to bring back his lost family. But no spell could resurrect the dead, at least not as they were. No Solomonari could bring the dead back to life. Despite everything, countless nights spent searching and going half mad with exhaustion and pain, all that he was was lost to him forever.

He had loved, and love only brought pain with it. He couldn’t save them. He had no right to mourn them. The rest of his days were spent in cruelty, returning to his previous dark ways in full force in an attempt to drown out that ever so present ache. He left Mirela and Ileana in the past, where they belonged. From their deaths to his own years later, he was only the Count, the Demon…nothing more. Nothing less.

But he couldn’t find his rest or reprieve even in death. His wicked ways, his power preserved what was left of him, and once again he was cursed by whatever higher, or perhaps lower, powers there were. Damned to walk the night eternally, to never see or even hear his loved ones again. It was less than what he felt he deserved but it was punishment enough.

And perhaps that’s what this place was. A place of punishment. A place to be reminded of all that he lost. It made sense, too much sense really. Hell? It may as well be at this point.

Orlok stopped in front of a door, one he never wanted to open again, to a room he never wanted to set foot into again. He was alone, the hounds were still with Ellen. His long fingered hand briskly touched the knob and then pulled back.

No…not today. Not this time. He couldn’t.

The vampire turned away from the door only to stop dead when he heard the soft cries of a baby inside. He knew those cries, reminding him of the fleeting time he had with his daughter. How he had tried to keep her alive and failed. The nights spent with her, trying to keep her little body warm as she suffered from illness. Her short little life had been nothing but pain, and he could do nothing to stop it, to take that pain away. All he could do was endure it with her, hoping his presence offered some sort of cursed comfort to his baby daughter. She passed early in the morning before sunrise, before he woke. He was in the room, but had left her alone. More or less, Ileana had died alone because of him.

Orlok shuddered, visibly shaken. It took a lot to unnerve him. As a solomonari, he had seen, heard of, and done things that would make many brave ones falter. But the voice of his late wife, the cries of his daughter…that was what struck him most.

The constant reminder of his failure was what unnerved him most. The little stuffed bear sat by the door when he looked again, as if attempting to entice him inside. It was slumped innocently, sadly, on the floor. He hadn’t placed it there…at least not that he remembered. Orlok growled at the thing, Not trusting it to be something real, though he’d held it many a time in those moments of weakness.

His daughter’s cries grew louder and the Count tore himself away from the door. He would not falter today.

Not today. Not ever if he could help it.

He was a monster. Monsters, he reminded himself, were not entitled to grief. Pain was their due, and it would suffice him as it had for centuries. It was bitter but it was the least he deserved. He kept walking away, the cries becoming distant in his ears until finally he was far enough away they couldn’t reach him. He breathed hard, closing his eyes tightly. Orlok felt a sharp, tight pain in his chest, and when he looked again, the little stuffed bear was in one of the chairs by the fire, still slumped over, sad and innocent.

“Îmi pare atât de rău iubiera mea…”

Short but kinda heavy! Hope you guys liked. If you enjoy this please feel free to like, comment, and reblog. If you wanna see more of my work please follow ^-^ thank you soooooo much guys ^^

[yesplsnothankyou]

I only come on tumblr when I'm at the very end of my rope and barely hanging on by a quickly disintegrating thread and I don't know what that tells you about me

[sskk-manifesto]

--

[meejijis]

People who age up Jeanne just to be the same age as Ren are cowards

[born-to-lose]

I love being the always single person in my family, mad respect to my sister for constantly dating guys for the last 8 years, I would have shot myself

[discoreptile]

Beasties of Greenhollow soundtrack! Some tracks on this are from older projects like elphame but all of them have been reworked in some way. Most of them are entirely new. Enjoy!

[youremyonlyhope]

I'm not a "new musical theatre style music" person. Never have been.

Even when I was doing voice lessons, I'd steer towards the golden age or jazzy musical theatre songs. My voice teacher would have to drag me kicking and screaming towards adding anything new musical theatre to my repertoire. For a while, the most modern song in my book was I Know The Truth from Aida, and I wouldn't count that as new musical theatre style since I mean more the Pasek&Paul or Joe Iconis type.

And now I have an audition coming up for a small production of a show in that style and I'm supposed to sing a song in a similar style. And I'm looking at all my sheet music like... let me do some Cole Porter... or Gershwin... at least Sondheim please...

[poisoncupids]

say what u want about it but jiper really is for people who didn't know they were gay until after the majority of their teen years