#but hes bad at cheesy romance let alone romance

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.3

christmas special

part one - part two

summary : He’s still annoying, just happens to have a charming face that softens the blow. While Y/n and Max continue their sibling rivalry, P plays matchmaker, and two idiots are left alone with a cheesy romance movie and a persistent ex.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : dual pov! brothers best friend! kissing😳 suggestive content. swearing. BANTERRRRR

words : 4158

⋆｡‧˚⋆

She doesn’t see me yet. I definitely see her.

She’s on her tippy toes that are covered in festive fluffy socks. My gaze drags up her legs to her ass, she’s got these nauseatingly tiny shorts on and a cropped baggy shirt to match.

Her arm is outstretched to try and get a mug but I can’t focus on anything but her. She’s biting her lip, a frustrated look on her face that’s making my mind think very inappropriate things. Her hair is messy and looking perfectly pullabl-

“Shit!” She reaches it, and promptly drops it, causing it to smash onto the tile.

Y/n drops to her knees, looking under the sink for something as her back arches, her head disappearing into the cabinet as I practically drool over her.

��Fucking hell.” I mumble, walking forward to help her and ignore my body’s reaction to hers. “Clumsy this early in the morning, huh sunshine?”

She glares at me, a tiny broom in her hand as she cleans up her mess.

“Let me help.” I go to reach for the broom but she pulls back, saying no and landing on her ass. My smile fades as I recognize the look on her face. “You alright?”

She crosses her legs, dropping the broom and shoving her face into her hands, “Yes.” It’s mumbled and clearly a lie.

I start cleaning up her mess, it’s not a lot and I don’t really know what else to do in her presence. I stand and dump the ceramic pieces in the trash, joining her on the floor again and poking her knee.

“Thanks.” She sounds stuffy, like she’s about to cry. She almost makes me feel bad for checking her out so much while she’s so sad.

“Talk to me, Sunny.” She sniffles and looks up at me. She's not crying but her eyes are red teary.

“I hate when you’re nice to me.” She pushes her hair back, her hands covered from her sleeves. I blink and she sighs, knowing that I want her to continue, “My ex.”

I don’t mean to groan but at least my dramatic act makes her laugh a bit, hitting my knee.

“He won’t stop calling. And I can’t block him because I work with the wanker!” She says exhausted, answering my question about the block button yesterday.

“Well at least he has one thing correct.” She raises a brow at my words, “He knows he lost someone good.”

Y/n shakes her head, “I hate him, Lando.” She breathes, “I hate him more than you.”

This makes me frown, sarcastically saying, “I’m flattered.”

She smiles a bit just as her phone dings again, she screams and puts her head back in her hands, “Y/n.” I say her name for the first time in a while, “Have you responded at all?”

She shakes her head, “I can’t.” She whispers it and I'm worried she actually wants him back. I never met him, but her instagram photos were enough for me to hate him.

I hear footsteps down the stairs, P coming around the corner humming, her smile slowly fading as she spots the two of us on the floor. “Good morning?”

I take Y/n’s hand and practically drag her upward, “Morning, P.” Y/n groans and leans against the counter, tearing her hand away from me and shoving her face into the tabletop now.

P points at Y/n, looking at me quizzically as I shake my head. She understands and skips over to the coffee machine, we sit in silence as P makes Y/n a hot chocolate.

Y/n smiles softly as P hugs her and hands her the hot chocolate. P continues to make her breakfast as I look at Y/n. She’s storing her drink and looking depressed.

It’s christmas! No time for sadness and sucky ex’s! I slide her the marshmallows as her wides widen a bit, smiling at me before dumping half the bag in.

My stomach does a weird thing at the way she looks at me… when Max joins us, I’m quickly distracted but still feel a tiny bit sick. “So! What are you two doing tonight while we’re out?”

Max asks as I scratch the back of my neck, “Um…”

“Movie night!” Y/n looks happier now, “Get ready Norris, welcome to the wonderful world of cheesy romances.”

⋆༺

you

Outside looks like a snowstorm yet we brave it for a quick brunch at a tiny diner that’s packed. I pull off my beanie, my hair a mess.

Lando unravels his scarf, laughing at me, “Looking good, Sunshine.” I stick my tongue out at him as Max ruffles my hair even more.

We sit and eat and for once, there’s no odd tension. I don’t yell at Lando and he doesn’t tease me. P and Max are squished together on the booth side while Lando’s arm is strewn around the back of my chair.

I let it slide because he looks like he’s in a food coma. His eyes are closed and he’s peacefully resting his head to the side.

Our comfortable silence turns to Lando and Max fighting over who’s paying while P and I wave at the baby sitting next to us.

Lando’s fingers wiggle next to my head, leaning in closer to see the baby. She giggles as Lando pokes my face and I give him an annoyed look.

The mom is looking at us so I smile and laugh a bit, “Sorry, she’s adorable.”

“Don’t be!” her hand pulls the cover back so we can see her more. Her little hands scrunch up and Lando and I make the same noise at the same time, “This is June. We call her sunny because- well it just fits her happy little personality!”

I feel Lando’s hand stop moving next to me as P and Max continue gushing over her. Lando clears his throat, “She looks like you.”

The mom smiles wider, “Thank you. You four are just adorable! Are you all here for christmas?”

Max nods, “I dragged my girlfriend and my best friend to have a quiet christmas.”

P smiles as Max squeezes her arm, “Which ultimately failed because these two never shut up.”

Lando laughs, “Like you’re one to talk! You and Y/n speak in a whole different language.” He goes back to playing peek-a-boo with the baby who just adores him.

“She likes you.” The mom says to Lando, “He’ll be good with kids.” She directs this at me which makes my breath cut out and Lando go into a fit of coughs.

Our waiter brings back our cards as P grabs her bag, “It was really nice meeting you. We have to run to the store for our new tradition!”

I raise a brow, “New tradition?”

Max is smiling like an idiot, “Gingerbread contests are back! Don’t be scared sis, just accept your loss now.”

⋆༺

Up until we were Ten and Eleven, Max and I made gingerbread houses every year. I'm not sure why we stopped, maybe because our parents hated how it always ended in tears because everything we did was a competition.

Max’s great idea was to start this up again. So we gathered the boxes and some extra supplies just to make a complete mess of the dining area while Sabrina Carpenter’s christmas music blasts and Max and I scream at each other.

We’ve made a sort of barrier right down the middle of the table. With my luck, Max picked his girlfriend to be on his team because there were only two houses left in the store.

So Lando and I are elbow deep in shitty frosting and tears of laughter. He wipes his eyes but gets frosting onto his face while doing it, “No you-” grabbing my hand, he moves it to steady the already falling house.

We’re a mess and it’s not helping that Lando keeps eating the gumdrops, “Norris!” I yell and slap his hand, “You’re killing my gumdrop families!”

“Your gumdrop families are yummy.” I roll my eyes as he mumbles to himself.

Max and P don’t fight but I'm pretty sure Lan and I sound like a war zone. I’m icing the roof while Lando drops random candy onto it. I kick him with my slipper under the table, “You’re ruining the aesthetic.”

He mimicks my voice, “You’re ruining the aesthetic. Just say you’re in love with me and get over it.” I scoff and hit him with a red vine.

He grins as he take a bite out of it while I laugh at how messy he’s gotten. “Shut up and come help me.” Lando pulls his seat back and sits on it backwards, resting his chin on the back of it and finally contributing.

We add more frosting, kinderds (per Lando’s request), candy canes, and some weird pearl candy P found.

I suck on a lolly while Lando continues to make the icing drip along the sides of the house, trying to mimic icicles. He’s very focused and flexes his arms while doing so. Squeezing out the partially hard icing and distracting me while doing it.

A loud bang sounds. Lando’s skeptical look and Max’s decision to shrug it off makes us continue on even when P starts to say it’s a ghost.

He sits back and admires his handy work, “You two are going down.” He says to Max and P, a mischievous expression on his face.

“Knowing you two… we’re fine.” P laughs and pokes her head around the barrier, her eyes are closed and her tongue out.

I scoff, “What does that mean!?”

I hear Max laugh now, “You’re a perfectionist and Lando’s biggest joy in life is to bug you!”

I stand up quickly, “You set me up!”

“All's fair in love and war.” I round the corner and look at their house. It’s perfect and pink!

I smile and cross my arms, “We can let the media decide this.”

Max smirks while P groans, “Can't we just end it here? You two are ridiculous.”

I grab Lando’s phone from his hand as he frowns, but doesn’t protest. I take a photo of Max holding their gingerbread house since P refused to be posted. Then I turn to Lando and smile, “Take your shirt off.”

“Hey! I expect that from Lando but not you!” Max eyes is both.

Lando head tilts as he looks at me curiously, “At least ask me on a date first, sunshine.” He does it anyways though, not caring out my brother.

“You’re totally unfairly manipulating this!” Max yells as Lando slips off his shirt and holds up our horrible little house.

I snap a photo of him grinning and flexing, and post it next to Max’s with a pole. “It’s called taking the matter into your own hands.”

Lando shivers as he pulls his shirt back on, smirking as he slips his finger into his mouth, cleaning off the icing and making eye contact with me. I clear my throat and turn to my friend who’s looking between the two of us.

“It’s cold in here, right?” P says suspiciously, “Babe, go turn up the heat.” Max disappears around the corner while we all start cleaning up and putting our houses on display on the windowsill

“It’s not moving!” Max yells from the other room, I can hear him hitting it.

“Maybe if you didn’t try to fix everything with force!” I stomp in and look at it with him, pressing my finger against the buttons.

“You’re not even trying-”

I groan, “You’re the one who-”

“Hey!” P yells, standing with her hands on her hips, “The rental lady said there’s a power box in the basement.”

Max pushes past me and hurries down the stairs I haven’t even gone near, “Christ he’s gonna blow us all up.” Lando follows as P shoots me a quick smile.

We can hear them arguing as I throw P a blanket and we wrap ourselves up and sit eating the extra candy. “Yours is so cute.” I sigh and look at her gingerbread house. It’s absolutely adorable and so her.

There’s tiny bows make out of red vines and pink starburst everywhere. She laughs, “I didn’t let Max touch it.” I laugh with her and pop a kinder into my mouth, “You and Lando are a good duo.”

I snort, “Right, a chaotic one.”

She shrugs, “Maybe. But I don’t know… It’s cute.” The second I realize where she’s going with this, I start to shake my head, “Listen!”

“No! No, Pietra! He’s… Fuck, He’s Lando Norris.” I’m still shaking my head as she dons an unconvinced expression.

“He flirts with you all the time!”

“In a joking way!” I argue, “And I can’t stand it!”

“He touches you a lot.”

“And It drives me crazy! He just likes pissing me off.”

She shakes her head slowly, a smile on her face as she brings the blanket up to her neck, “You like him.”

My face feels hot and I'm getting frustrated which is making it worse because she can tell, “He calls me names.”

“Yeah!” she scoffs, “an adorable nickname! That he made up when he was fifteen! The way he looks at you Y/n… it’s like- well…”

“Don’t say it!” I warn but the blonde doesn’t listen.

“It’s how Max looks at me.”

I sigh, putting my face in my hands, “P. Max is in love with you, Lando doesn’t…” My sentence ends in a whisper as she smirks, “I barely like him as a friend! Like literally three days ago I couldn’t stand him! Not much has changed.”

She shrugs, “By all means, keep it up. It’s entertaining to watch.” I roll my eyes and play with the wrapper in my hand as a bang comes from downstairs. “Just… you deserve someone like him.”

“He has like a million girlfriends.”

“He does not!” She laughs, “At least not anymore!” I give her a look as she reaches over and takes my hand, “All i’m saying is that I completely support whatever you do! Even if it’s a one night thing.” My eyes widen as she squeezes my hand and winks, “I won’t tell Max.”

I push her away and sit back in my chair, crossing my arms and smiling at my friend, “Also we’ll be gone for like three hours tonight.”

I laugh and throw a piece of candy at her as Lando and Max come up the stairs. Lando is picking cobwebs off of himself while Max wipes his hands on his jeans, “Welp, hopefully that worked.”

⋆༺

lando

“Let's watch Notting Hill.” She visibly pauses when I say it, looking at me confused with a bowl of popcorn over her blanket covered lap.

“Notting Hill!?” She repeats it, then shakes her head, “You never fail to surprise me, Lando.” I like it when she says my name, even when it’s a bit demeaning.

I lean my head back, she’s covered the couch in every blanket and pillow we could find. After the heater broke, she swore she was still cold so she’s extra bundled even though i’m sweating.

She finally tugs off her third layer of blankets and grabs the remote, “We’re watching a Christmas Prince.”

I frown but don’t say anything because I'm scared she’ll leave me down here alone and go call her best friend or something.

I’d rather play a game so we could talk or I could at least look at her, but she insists I have to watch this god awful movie.

She gave me some grace while eating delivered pizza and talking about the drivers she’s met which (scarily enough) is a lot.

Y/n is normally yelling at me during any movie to get me to shut up, but everytime I ask a question today, she answers in detail.

“Who’s this dick who took her cab!?” She smiles at my words, eating her popcorn and flipping her phone face down so it stops distracting her. “Ugly beard too.”

She gives me a look which makes me groan, “He’s the prince, isn’t he!?” She nods as I look up at her. Her hair is down and outright messy from her hood and the multiple blankets she has around her.

“It’s called a meet cute.” Y/n shrugs and watches the screen again.

“A meet cute?” I grab from her bowl, “But there was nothing cute about it.”

She eyes me, “Okay maybe it’s more of a meet hate… or a meet dislike? Maybe a meet argue.”

“Okay now I just want steak.” Y/n rolls her eyes again as I smile, “So, sort of like us?”

She sits up more, looking at me and laughing, “What would our meet hate be, then? I don’t even remember the first time we met.”

I’m a little offended because I do. “You were karting with Max and I for the first time and you totally ran me off the road!”

She turns more to me, “I don’t remember this but I'm going to stick up for my child self and say that it was your fault.”

My eyes roll. “You really have not changed. You blamed me for it because we were racing to win and Max got by both of us and ended up with the trophy.”

She laughs and fuck, I love that sound. “Sounds about right. But you definitely egged me on.”

“Oh one thousand percent! But I was just coping with the fact that the girl I had a crush on completely destroyed my ego!” I don’t really realize what I've said until she raises a brow.

“You had a crush on me!?” She laughs as I groan and shake my head.

I’m blushing now even though it was so many years ago, “I was like ten!”

“You fanciedddd me!” she drags out the words as she tries to pull the blanket off my head, “Norris!”

“Leave me alone!” She’s hitting me with a pillow now, “I had no idea what a terror you were!”

She scoffs, pulling back, “You little bitch, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know if you know this Sunshine, but you’re fucking terrifying.” Y/n’s eyes are teary from laughing and her smile is so big it almost makes me happy she found out.

“So what, you stopped having a crush on me when you actually got to know me?” I don’t want to lie to her, and I don’t know if I can about this.

“Shhh…” I grab a handful of the popcorn, “watch the movie.” She lays closer to me, her hair brushing my shoulder and our eyes both go back to the screen.

Y/n and I aren’t this close often. We aren’t ever alone. And I have to admit, the one thing I dislike about my best friend is that he is adamant on keeping me away from his sister.

His ‘Hands to yourself’ reminder before he left was enough fuel to my fire for the night.

“She’s annoying.” I groan after way too many minutes of this movie. I’m pretty sucked in though I won’t admit that to Y/n.

“That is a common theme with these movies.” She nuzzles her head closer to me, “It adds to the charm.”

“Does it?” I frown and adjust myself, trying to get more comfortable and slipping my arm around her and expecting to be met with criticism.

She stays quiet though, just rests her head against my shoulder and shifts to the side.

I don’t know if she realizes it, but she’s been playing with the sleeve of my hoodie for the past twenty minutes. I don’t want to move, I don’t want the movie to be over, I don’t want her to hate me again.

Her phone rings and a small groan comes from her, she sits up, her warmth leaving me. “I thought I turned this stupid thing off.” She grabs her phone, flipping it around and rolling her eyes at the contact.

WHORE DO NOT ANSWER

Is the contact name with a picture of her ex with drawn on devil horns. I can tell she’s about to hang up but I always act on impulse.

Her phone is in my hand in seconds, pressing answer and holding it to my ear as she screams and jumps on me. “Y/n?” It’s a guys voice and I hate him instantly, “You finally picked up!”

I flip Y/n off my back and shove my hand over her mouth, trying to hold her down while I listen to her ex’s annoying voice.

“Hey!” I say just as the line goes quiet at the sound of another man’s voice.

“Who’s this?” I roll my eyes at him even though only Y/n can see me. She’s squirming and mumbling under my hand. She is remarkably easy to hold back for how determined she is.

“None of your business! How about we cut to the problem at hand and discuss why the fuck you’re still calling Y/n after you cheated on her?” he tries to talk but I cut him off, “Take a long look in the mirror bud because you will never be good enough to win her back.”

“Is this her new boyfriend?” He asks sternly.

“I’ll tell you that i’m not someone to fuck with, especially when it comes to Y/n. You don’t deserve to ever even look at her again but she is a professional woman who can be civil, even if it is towards a jackass like you.” He’s quiet now and Y/n is getting free so I hurry up, “Y/n has been gracious and practically a fucking saint to deal with your shit for the past year so stop calling!”

She finally breaks free and ends the call, out of breath and looking at me like I'm worthy of death.

She throws her phone onto the couch, on her knees and pushing back her messy hair. “He completely deserved it.” I try to back myself up as I fall onto my elbows, looking up at her.

She’s staring at me still, and I'm slightly scared for my life. But then her eyes soften and she does the most unexpected thing i’ve ever experienced.

She kisses me.

Her hands are on my face and her lips are squished against mine. We fall back on the blankets as my hands find her waist and I fully understand what’s happening.

I kiss her back, hard and fast like if I don’t take this opportunity now, it might never happen again.

She’s on top of me and just the weight of her makes my dick twitch. I slip my hands under her hoodie, her skin warm and soft. She lets out a little whimper when my hands tighten against her hips, unconsciously grinding into me.

“Fuck.” I mumble against her lips as her hands go to my hair. She’s breathing heavier and just as i’m about to start on her neck, the door opens.

She’s off me in a second, “Fuck.” Her hand goes to her mouth and her eyes go wide as the footsteps of our friends echo through the house.

“Oh, of course.” I say exasperatedly, sitting up and dragging a pillow onto my lap.

“Landooo! Y/n!” Max calls for us as I point at her lips which are now the same shade of red as her cheeks.

I reach over and smooth out Y/n’s hair. She looks so genuinely shocked and scared while I'm just annoyed that we had to be interrupted.

She plops down on the other side of the couch, pulling the blanket up high to her face and avoiding my eyes. “In here!” I mumble as they walk through the doors.

I look back to see Max and P all dressed up and smiling. They look wine drunk, holding hands while P kicks off her heels.

“Movie time!” P giggles and rounds the couch to sit next to Y/n who makes eye contact with me and for some reason, makes me laugh.

Max wraps his arm around P while looking at us funny. Y/n is giggling now while I just cover my face with a pillow and shake my head, “So what are we watching?”

P picks another hallmark movie and I make eye contact with Y/n again. I start laughing and Max seems genuinely annoyed this time, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” I say quickly. “How was your night?”

“Perfect!” P snuggles into her boyfriend, “How about you two?”

Y/n shrugs as if she wasn’t on top of me moments ago, “Boring. Lando hated the movie.”

“I did not! I was just distracted.” No one bats an eye at my excuse except for Y/n who hides her smirk with her hot chocolate.

[kiszjuli]

PERFECT EXCUSE .ᐟ

✸ playful!chenle x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳synopsis. you never cared much for valentine’s day. it’s not that you needed to, because school was more important. however, when you get roped into a (stupid) day at the valentine’s day fair, with the annoyingly charming zhong chenle, maybe your perspective will change.

↳playlist. good days - sza. the perfect pair - beabadoobee. bad - wavetoearth. rainbow - nct dream. sunflower - swae lee. love countdown - nayeon.

valentine’s day at college was a disaster waiting to happen. at least, that’s how you’d always viewed it. all the heart-shaped decorations, the excessive amounts of candy, the couples holding hands like they were somehow more in love because of the date on the calendar. it was just a lot of noise—unnecessary noise at that. your life was perfectly organized, your time always scheduled, and you certainly didn’t need some manufactured holiday reminding you that romance existed.

but, of course, your best friend mia had other plans.

“please, just come with me,” mia begged, standing in your dorm doorway, her eyes wide and pleading. “you know i can’t go alone, and honestly, i need you to go so i can be with felix. i’ll owe you, i swear. just this once. for me?”

you rolled your eyes. felix was mia’s crush—one of your other friends who had a thing for always being the center of attention. you couldn’t really say no, knowing how much it meant to her, especially since she’d been talking about him nonstop for weeks. if she wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve said no.

“fine,” you muttered, sighing, setting your textbooks down. “but i’m only coming because you’re clearly desperate, and i’m not staying long.”

mia’s face lit up as if you’d just given her the world. “you’re the best! i’ll make it worth your while, i promise.” she ran to you, attacking you in a hug.

—

so here you were, standing outside the valentine’s day fair on campus, which, unsurprisingly, looked like cupid threw up. balloons floated lazily above booths, and the scent of cotton candy and fried food was everywhere. people roamed around in pairs, couples wrapped in the gooey sweetness of the holiday, while you tried your best to keep the grimace off your face.

“i’m going to go find felix,” mia said, her voice practically vibrating with excitement. “you’re fine here. i’ll text you in a bit.” she dashed off before you could even say anything in protest. your words dying on your tongue as you sighed deeply.

great, you thought. now you were stuck in the middle of this chaos, alone and—if you were being honest—irritated. you wandered toward the game booths, wondering how long you could fake having fun, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“hey, you’re not trying to sneak off and study, are you?”

you turned to find zhong chenle leaning against one of the booths, casually sipping from a drink, his bright smile practically glowing in the chaos around you. chenle was the kind of guy who could brighten up a room with barely any effort. always cheerful, always a little too playful, he had a way of dragging you into whatever ridiculous situation he was in—whether you liked it or not.

“chenle,” you said with a sigh, trying not to let your annoyance show. “what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same thing.” he grinned. “are you here for the lovey dovey atmosphere, or for the free candy?”

you crossed your arms. “neither. i’m here because mia begged me to come. and now i’m completely regretting it.”

he laughed at that, his voice like music, light and easy. “you know, it’s not so bad once you give in. the fair’s actually kinda fun, once you stop being all… ‘up tight’ about everything.”

you shot him a glare. “i’m not ‘up tight.’ i just have better things to do than waste my time at some cheesy fair.”

chenle raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. “you say that now. you’re already stuck here so…might as well make it worth your while.”

you didn’t know why, but his playful tone made you feel slightly… off balance. you’d never been good at letting go of your well-structured plans, but something about his easy confidence made you want to step outside your comfort zone. you shook the thought away.

“yeah, well, mia’s gone, and i’m stuck walking around by myself, in a place where i don’t really wanna be. not really my idea of fun.”

“stuck?” chenle tilted his head, as if considering your words. “you don’t have to be stuck.” his grin widened. “here, how about this? us. you. me. valentine’s day fair.”

you blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “what?”

“no, seriously,” he said, his voice dropping to a playful, almost firm tone. “i’m asking you out. right here, right now. us, enjoying the fair.” his grin was wide, but there was an edge of sincerity to his words that caught you off guard.

you almost laughed, half in disbelief. “you’re asking me out—here? now?”

chenle shrugged, unfazed. “why not? where better to then here? what else is valentine’s day about if not taking chances?”

you stared at him for a long moment, your mind racing. it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed chenle’s charm or the way he made everything seem easier than it was. but asking you out here? it was so out there, so unlike the controlled life you were used to.

“i don’t know…” you said slowly, shaking your head. “i have a lot of work to do, and—”

“hey, hey.” chenle cut you off, his voice almost pleading, but still playful. “come on. just one day, no homework, no plans. just us and some fun what do you say?”

you felt yourself still hesitating. for all your plans and your need to be in control, something about the way he said it made you think that maybe, just maybe, you could let go for once.

“i see it, you’re giving in,” he smirks pointing at you.

“fine,” you said, a little too quickly, surprising yourself. “one hour. and i’m nothing cheesy,”

chenle’s grin was so wide, you swore he was glowing. “deal.”

and just like that, you found yourself swept up into whatever mess chenle had in mind for the day.

—

“you won’t regret this,” chenle says, grinning as he tugs you forward, weaving through the crowd. his grip on your wrist is light, like he knows you could change your mind at any second. and honestly, you might.

it was way too loud for your liking. screams and yells ring through the air, couples walking past hand in hand, some holding oversized stuffed animals, others sharing pink cotton candy like something straight out of a cliché rom-com. exactly the kind of thing you didn’t sign up for.

“i already regret it,” you mutter, adjusting your bag strap.

chenle hums like he doesn’t hear you—or, more likely, like he’s choosing not to.

then he stops, turning to face you with a dramatic flourish. “so, where should we start our date?”

you groan, smacking his arm. “this is not a date.”

chenle only laughs. “alright, alright. how about something simple? games?” he gestures toward the ones with flashing lights and prizes hanging from the ceilings—rows of giant plushies, novelty heart pillows, and even a ridiculously large teddy bear.

you eye the setup warily. “you mean the games that are totally rigged?”

“that’s loser talk.” he slings an arm over your shoulders before you can protest, steering you toward the booths. his warmth is distracting, and you hate how easy it is for him to act like this—like this whole thing is normal.

he stops in front of a classic ring toss booth, plopping down a few bills. “three tries,” the vendor says, handing over the rings.

chenle smirks, holding up a ring between two fingers. “watch and learn.”

you cross your arms. “you’re gonna lose.”

“you doubt me? me?” he presses a hand over his chest in mock offense. “that hurts. deeply.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch, barely holding back a grin. and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he can actually win.

the first ring bounces off the bottle. the second does the same.

you glance at him, smug. “loser talk, huh?”

chenle exhales, rolling his shoulders like he’s about to take the final shot of an nba game. then, he tosses the last ring.

it lands perfectly.

the booth lights flash, and the vendor claps once. “winner!”

chenle throws his arms up like he just won an olympic gold medal, then turns to you, triumphant. “see? skill.”

you shake your head, unimpressed. “that was luck.”

“skill,” he repeats, accepting the prize. a heart-shaped plushie. he turns to you, eyes twinkling, and before you can react, he presses it into your arms.

you blink down at it. “what—”

“you did say no cheesy stuff, but, y’know.” he shrugs. “couldn’t help myself.”

your fingers tighten around the plushie despite yourself. you tell yourself it means nothing. that he’s just being his usual, annoying self.

but when you look up, he’s already watching you, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips.

and for the first time tonight, you don’t have a quick comeback.

—

you don’t know when it happens—when the reluctant acceptance of being here turns into something else, something dangerously close to enjoying yourself. it had been at least an hour by now, you didn’t notice, not keeping track anymore.

maybe it’s when chenle insists on buying you a strawberry milkshake, claiming it matches the “valentine’s aesthetic” before promptly stealing half of it with a smug grin. or maybe it’s when he drags you to the dart booth, loses spectacularly, and then pouts at you until you give up your last attempt—only for you to actually win, leaving him in stunned silence before he bursts into laughter.

“i can’t believe this,” he groans, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. “this is the worst day of my life.”

you snort, sipping the remnants of your milkshake. “you’re just mad i’m better than you.”

chenle lowers his arm, watching you with that ever-present amusement in his eyes. “nah, i’m just mad i have to give you all my future winnings now. gotta keep my girl’s record clean.”

you freeze.

he doesn’t, not even for a second, like he didn’t just say something that sent your brain into overdrive. instead, he steps closer, leaning in slightly. “huh. no comeback?”

your fingers tighten around the stuffed bear he won for you earlier, and you tear your gaze away, heart pounding in your chest. “shut up.”

he laughs, the sound rich and full, and for once, you don’t mind being the reason for it.

the realization hits you then—soft but certain. you like being here. you like chenle. you had for a while; behind all the sourness you felt towards him, hearing his laugh, bubbly personality, and seeing his stupid smile. and the worst part? you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

—

the sun has nearly set, casting the fairgrounds in a golden haze, and you swear the air feels different—softer, warmer, like the world itself is urging you to stay in this moment a little longer.

“okay,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “this wasn’t terrible.”

chenle turns to you, grinning like he’s just won the biggest prize of the night. “that’s it? that’s all i get?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “okay, fine. i had fun, okay?”

he hums, clearly satisfied, and nudges your shoulder with his. “good. now let’s end on a high note.”

you don’t even have time to question it before he’s steering you toward the ferris wheel. the line is short, and before you can put up a fight—not that you’re sure you even want to—he’s already handing over tickets, tugging you into one of the cars.

the ride begins, slow and steady, lifting you above the fair, above the laughter and music, until all that’s left is the quiet hum of the night and the soft glow of carnival lights below.

chenle leans back, stretching out like he owns the place, but then he turns his head, watching you carefully. “so?”

you glance at him. “so what?”

he tilts his head, eyes warm, knowing. “so, am i growing on you?”

you’ve always thought of chenle as loud, unpredictable, a little too confident for his own good. but here, in the quiet, you see something else—the way his eyes search yours like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, the way his fingers tap idly against his knee, like he’s waiting for something.

you let out a breath of laughter, but your heart betrays you, beating faster than it should. you should have a snarky response, something quick and teasing, but all you can do is hold his gaze, the space between you charged with something unspoken.

he shifts closer, not enough to cross a line, but enough to make it clear—if you wanted to close the gap, he wouldn’t stop you.

your fingers tighten around the stuffed bear in your lap.

“maybe,” you whisper.

chenle’s smile softens, and then he gently reaches out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering just a second too long.

the ferris wheel slows, grounding you, but as you look at him, at the way he’s watching you like he’s memorizing every detail, you realize something—

maybe you don’t mind falling, after all.

—

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffck @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: t cw: hook up, mentions of sex, nothing on camera but it's implied tags: no upside au, first meeting, animal shelters, another universe another menial job, bad holiday innuendo word count: 1,526

written for @steddiemas prompt "mistletoe"

PART TWO of this thing here (it should stand alone tho)

Eddie lay flat on his back, arms outstretched, somehow still recovering. What the fuck just happened. Good luck? Bad? Eddie still wasn't sure and his brain was mush so no way he was figuring that out now. He’d just gone in to adopt a cat and, sure, yeah, he got a cat (not the one he’d picked out before going in) but it was the signing bonus that had Eddie all confused—and exhausted.

A man far too attractive to be hanging out and “annoying his best friend” as he said, just living life and existing in places Eddie could go was not part of the plan. No fucking way. Yet the guy used his charm and cheesy jokes on Eddie. Talking about kissing under the mistletoe like he'd been sitting there waiting for Eddie to show up. It was nuts.

This was the kind of guy Eddie would dream about. Some dude he caught a glimpse of in the grocery store and an amalgamation of several people that Eddie spent months obsessed over. A created character for fun and fantasy cured only by making some romanceable npc to drop in the game. His friends never let him get those mythical dates.

Instead, this guy was real and throwing himself at Eddie. More affectionate than any of the kittens and twice as adorable, Eddie knew he was in trouble back at the check-in desk. It took one look and Eddie was trying to figure out how to get Steve back to his before he’d learned his name. Nothing had ever worked out so well but Eddie who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

The stars aligned or the dimensions changed, whatever it was, it all worked out. Now Steve was just taking a shower like it was a normal Tuesday and he was in his own home. Eddie wasn’t sure if he could trust his legs yet having his world so thoroughly rocked and this guy was humming songs and using up all the hot water. Even in dreams, though, Eddie wasn’t this nice to himself.

With the shower no longer running, it’d be minutes before Steve came back (unless he bolted) and Eddie would be just as he left him. Naked, exhausted, and happier than he’d been in years. The chipper way Steve got up to shower, he was probably coming back for round two. Something Eddie did not think he had the energy for but, dammit, he’d give it his all. What a way to go out.

It wasn't much but Eddie managed to pull a blanket over himself and snag his phone. A part of him was content in this state. He could manage to find some pajamas or whatever, it wasn't as bad as he was pretending. But why? Why not perform a thank you that'd be awkward to say? Let Steve revel in what he'd done to Eddie.

Steve didn't bolt because he was the perfect man, made in the lab of romance and good hair. He came back to Eddie’s room with a smile that disarmed the joke about getting lost on the way to the front door. He knew the man wanted to be here and, god damn, he wanted him here.

With a towel wrapped around his waist and still damp, Steve stood there looking as gorgeous as before, even with flat, freshly washed hair. Cradled in his arm was Mistletoe, the cat Eddie walked out with because Steve turned Eddie into a pushover with the batting of his eyelashes. Who could resist that? Not Eddie. Despite popular opinion, he was, in fact, human.

In the other hand, Steve held two bottles of water. Presumably from Eddie’s fridge but he wouldn’t put it past the guy to have DoorDashed something whilst in the shower.

To make up for the fact that Eddie hadn’t moved, he went for comedy. Looking side to side. “Did I?? God, was this so good I thought I was in my own house? Are we? Where’d you get those?”

Steve tossed the bottles onto the bed, missing Eddie but landing so close they had to be aimed.

“How’d I find the water?” judgment dripped off every syllable.

“Yeah?” Eddie tried, confidence gone. The joke didn’t land. Or maybe it wasn’t formed right. Words were Eddie's thing and it was bullshit even those were failing him. It was going to take more than slaughtering a hot npc to get over this guy when he finally realized what a loser Eddie was.

“You’ll never believe this. I found them in the last place you’d suspect. I poked around all your cupboards and closets but they were in the fridge! So weird.”

Oh, fuck him.

That bitchiness shouldn’t be hot. Why was that so hot? Eddie should have wanted to punch him for it. At least mock him back and crack jokes along with him. Instead, he could almost feel his pupils turning into cartoon hearts.

Who was he turning into? First, adopting a cute little kitten when the least metal name of the lot and now he’s swooning over some guy’s quick but insulting comebacks? Maybe this wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare.

A half-hearted laugh was enough of a reply for Steve.

“And of all places, man, you keep your fridge in the kitchen. It’s been very surprising here.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie groaned, finally finding a good thought.

Steve climbed back into the other side of the bed, nudging the water toward Eddie again. Saying drink this in every way but actually using the words. Also hot.

“What we should talk about is why your fridge makes you look like a serial killer. You’ve got one expired jar of pickles, two of those gross cheese singles, and a case of water. There isn’t even ketchup, man.”

“The liquor is in the freezer,” Eddie said, taking a pause. There was something better to say there.

“With the body parts.” they both said, a few seconds apart.

Steve gave a condescending pat to Eddie’s chest, proud of him for making it to the joke finally. Eddie wanted to roll over on his stomach to put his chin in his hands and kick his feet in the air. This was disgusting. He hadn’t been this head over heels before and as various love songs started to make sense, he watched his dream man scoop up a pillow to make a comfy spot for the cat.

“You also don’t have…anything, like at all, for Mistletoe,” Steve said.

He cracked open a bottle of water and Eddie thought he was going to take a drink, a logical assumption, but again it was pushed towards Eddie. So Eddie pulled himself up to mostly sit as he leaned against the headboard and squirmed the pillows into something comfortable. He drank the offered water, if only for Steve.

Once he did, Steve picked up the other bottle and opened it for himself. He sat with one leg tucked in and the other dangling off the bed, scratching Mistletoe on the head. Eddie was already planning their forever but the wedding date was getting closer and closer. How long did one have to have a marriage license before saying "I do"?

“Well,” Eddie finally countered. Attitude packed in so he didn’t have to admit the water felt amazing and was, actually, very needed. “I thought I’d go in, see if me and Krampus got along, and then I could swing by the pet store on the way home. Hadn’t really expected to pick up anything…one else.”

Steve wiggled his eyebrows and Eddie imagined if they were any younger, he’d pump his fist in the air like he’d scored the winning goal or whatever.

“Not very responsible of you,” Steve’s eyes narrowed, the judgment was nothing compared to the talk of Eddie’s fridge. This was playful and Eddie had an idea of what was going on.

And before he overthought things, Eddie took a chance he was right. “Thing is, I know a guy at the animal shelter and he…lets me do whatever I want.”

There were a few beats where Steve pretended to think. “For a price.”

“I can’t offer much but what I’ve got is yours.”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Eddie regretted them. How disgusting and sappy. Steve was probably going to get up and leave. Eddie would. Hell, he wanted to now. Not Steve, though. He leaned forward, which untucked the towel, and stole a kiss.

Soft, passionate, and curled Eddie’s toes. He was still sensitive enough it earned an unfair reaction and it was almost like Steve knew that. He lingered in Eddie's space, smelling of Eddie's soap, and grinning like the devil.

When Steve slowly pulled back and perched back on the edge of the bed, Eddie said, “Not in front of the children.” and reached out to cover Mistletoe’s eyes.

There was an easy and meaningless eye roll thrown his way. "There go my plans then," Steve teased. "Guess you better get dressed so we can go get this little guy some supplies because…I have plans for the night."

[kkoga]

Masterlist ! next !

WC — 1.16k

Creds to @cafekitsune for the divider!!

Chapter 1 — Love is a scam

Valentine's Day at Dream Academy was the worst.

The hallways were drowning in heart-shaped balloons, pink streamers, and tacky paper hearts taped to every available surface. 

The student council had really outdone themselves this year, turning the cafeteria into some kind of lovesick wonderland. 

The scent of chocolate and cheap roses hung in the air like bad perfume, and to make matters worse, a live band was playing slow love songs on the stage.

It was the kind of scene that would make any hopeless romantic swoon.

Too bad you weren't one of them.

Slumped over your lunch tray, you stabbed halfheartedly at your food, watching couples exchange shy smiles and hand-written love notes. Someone let out an excited squeal near the entrance��probably another confession happening. Gross.

"Ugh, I hate love," you muttered, setting your fork down with an irritated clatter.

Your friends, who have been watching you with a mix of concern and amusement, exchanged knowing looks.

"Okay, Grinch," Dani teased, nudging your arm. "What did love ever do to you?"

You shot her a deadpan look. "Dumped me three weeks before Valentine's and now it's rubbing itself in my face."

"Fair point," Lara said, sipping her soda. "But in love's defense, Jay was kind of a jerk."

Jay—your now ex-boyfriend—wasn't the worst guy in the world, but he wasn't exactly the best either. You've been together for almost a year, and then, just when you thought things were solid, he hit you with the classic "I think we should take a break." Which, as everyone knew, was a breakup code for "I'm already over this, but I don't want to look like the bad guy."

So yeah. Love sucked.

"I don't get why this holiday is such a big deal," you grumbled, watching as a guy from the soccer team handed a bouquet to his very flustered girlfriend. "It's just an excuse to flex relationships and make single people feel miserable."

Dani smirked. "Or maybe you're just better because you're single now."

"Gee, thanks for the insight, Dr. Phil."

Lara leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms. "I mean, if you really hate it, you could just skip the rest of the event. No one's forcing you to be here"

You let out a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, but then I'd be sitting in my room alone, sulking. At least here, i get to be bitter in good company"

"Aww, that's the spirit!" Dani cheered, patting your back like a proud coach. "Embrace the bitterness!"

The band on stage finished their song, and the lead singer stepped up to the mic. "Alright, lovebirds, this next one’s a classic. If you’ve got someone special, grab ‘em close!"

As the opening notes of some cheesy love song filled the air, couples started slow dancing near the stage. You groaned, resting your forehead against the table.

This was going to be a long night.

Before Dani could respond, the speakers crackled, and a voice boomed across the cafeteria.

"Attention, everyone! Don't forget to follow the Valentine's color code! If you're not wearing a designated color yet, grab a shirt from the booth near the stage!"

You groaned. Right. The stupid color-coding system.

Every year, the school forced students to participate in this ridiculous tradition, where your relationship status was basically put on display through the color of your shirt.

Red meant you were in love. Orange meant you were single but had a thing going with someone. Blue was for the heartbroken. Pink for those searching. White for the ones who prioritized studying over romance. Yellow meant you were moving on. Black? Bitter. And wearing your normal uniform meant you weren’t interested at all.

Dani stood up, pulling a black T-shirt from her backpack and grinning. "I, for one, am proudly representing Team Bitter." She slipped the shirt over her uniform, showing off the bold lettering across the front: LOVE IS A SCAM.

Lara rolled her eyes and pulled on a yellow shirt. "I’m moving on, thank you very much."

You hesitated for a second before sighing and grabbing the blue one from your bag. "Guess I’m Team Broken."

As you pulled it over your head, Dani nudged you. "You could’ve gone black and joined me in my hatred of love."

You smirked. "Tempting, but I’m not that dramatic."

"Rude," Dani scoffed, crossing her arms. 

"Bitter is a valid life choice."

Lara laughed, but then her gaze flickered to the entrance. "Uh-oh. Here comes Mr. Moisture ."

Your body tensed as you spotted him walking in—wearing an orange shirt. Single and connected. So he already had something going with someone else. Figures.

You turned back to your tray, pretending you hadn’t seen him.

"Alright, we are officially boycotting sad thoughts," Dani declared, grabbing your arm. "C’mon, let’s go mess around near the confession booth."

"Why?"

"Because watching people panic over their crushes is hilarious."

You sighed but let them drag you along. If nothing else, at least you weren’t sulking alone.

As the band on stage started another slow song, you glanced around at the sea of red, pink, and orange shirts around you, feeling your stomach twist. Maybe you were bitter. Maybe you did hate love.

Or maybe you just hated the fact that it felt like everyone was moving on except you

The confession booth was one of the biggest attractions at the event—students could drop anonymous notes in the designated boxes, and later, volunteers would pin them up on a large board for everyone to see. Some were dramatic, some sweet, and some just straight-up weird.

"Look at this one," Lara snorted, pointing to a note written in bright red ink. I love you so much, but I’m too scared to say it in person. Please notice me, A.M.

Dani laughed. "Classic secret admirer move. Respect."

You rolled your eyes, scanning the pinned-up confessions absentmindedly. A few were cringeworthy, others were kind of cute—but then, your gaze landed on a small, folded note tucked into the corner of the board. Unlike the others, this one wasn’t pinned up properly, like someone had stuffed it there in a hurry.

Curious, you reached out and unfolded it.

The handwriting was neat but slightly rushed, like the writer had been nervous.

I miss you. - S

You frowned. "Huh."

Dani peered over your shoulder. "Ooooh. Mystery love letter?"

You shrugged, reading it over again. S. Who the hell was S?

"Think it’s for you?" Lara asked, raising a brow.

You snorted. "Doubt it."

"Well, let’s think," Dani said, tapping her chin. "S could be... Samantha, Sarah, Shane—"

"Or just some random person’s confession that got shoved in the wrong spot," you pointed out.

But even as you said it, you found yourself staring at the note a second longer than necessary.

"I miss you."

For some reason, the words sent a weird, unfamiliar flutter through your chest.

You shook your head, stuffing the note back where you found it. It was probably nothing.

Right?

[onlinesuzie]

☆ hamzah vs. watching love island ☆

words: 2.3k

summary: Hamzah has always found Love Island embarrassing an unrealistic but on a warm summers evening spent pouring drinks and binging the show with Martin and Mandy, Hamzah’s disdain for Love Island changes when he has the opportunity to ‘pull you for a chat’.

notes: GUYS I LOVE LOVE ISLAND SO BAD and martin and mandy mentioning it on ooc inspired me to write this!!

♡

It was one of those lazy summer evenings at Mandy’s house, where the air was thick with warmth and your favourite part of the summer was about to begin. You, Mandy, and Martin had gathered in the living room, ready for your weekly tradition of binge watching that week’s episodes of Love Island. The show was a guilty pleasure for the three of you, a chance to unwind and indulge in the drama and romance unfolding on the screen.

You thought it was stupid but some part of you wanted that cheesy romance, the type where you just make out for no reason or just anything. It had been months since you had even kissed someone let alone all the borderline soft porn you laugh at with Mandy and Martin. But regardless of how much action you were getting, alcohol and snacks were scattered across the coffee table, and you were nestled comfortably on the couch next to your friends.

The night was in full swing, and the alcohol kept flowing. The more you drank, the funnier the islanders’ antics appeared. You, Mandy, and Martin were laughing loudly, making bets on who would be kicked off next, and sipping your drinks between comments.

As the opening credits rolled for the Wednesday’s episode, Hamzah wandered into the room, his expression one of mild disdain. “I still don’t understand how you guys can watch this shit,” he remarked, folding his arms and leaning against the doorway.

“Fuck,” you thought. Maybe it was the alcohol or the grossly horny scenes you’d been watching for the past few hours, but Hamzah looked incredible. He looked so good, with his biceps straining against the fabric of his loose shirt and his hair falling casually over his warm brown eyes.

Mandy rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh, come on, Hamzah. It’s fun! Besides, you don’t have to watch it with us, you just like to complain.”

Martin grinned, tossing a piece of popcorn at Hamzah. “Yeah, man, just let us have our fun. You’re always free to join us if you want.”

Hamzah dodged the popcorn with a chuckle, shaking his head. He approached the three of you and leaned against the back of the couch, his arms looking impressively defined in the artificial blue light. You found it hard to focus on the show as you admired how good he looked. “I think I’ll pass,” he said, releasing his grip on the couch and gesturing toward the TV as he made eye contact with Martin. “This whole thing is just so… fake. Who behaves like that when they actually like someone?”

You couldn’t suppress a smile at Hamzah’s typical response. It was a long-standing joke among your group that he was the self-appointed critic of all things reality television. It made sense; the thought of Hamzah behaving like the guys on Love Island was a bit unsettling. You had never seen him with a girl before, and while Martin mentioned that Hamzah had dated in the past, none of those girls had ever made an appearance since you’d known him.

Mandy laughs at him, “You don’t even know what that’s like Hamzah, you don’t even know how to talk to women let alone have the opportunity to pull someone for a chat”

“I could, but whatever, it doesn’t matter cause this isn’t what dating is like” Hamzah criticised.

“Suit yourself,” you teased, glancing over at him. “But you’re missing out on some quality entertainment.”

Hamzah’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you could see how warm and inviting his eyes were, his thick eyelashes, the deep brown colour. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it, shaking his head with a smile. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Enjoy your show.”

As he walked away, you felt this disappointment of him leaving. Over the months, you couldn’t deny how attracted you were to Hamzah, and maybe it was just the alcohol speaking but he looked gorgeous tonight, and every interaction with him seemed to intensify the emotions you tried so hard to keep in check.

The evening progressed with the usual mix of laughter and commentary, and the frequent refills of your drinks. Mandy and Martin were engrossed in the latest drama between the islanders, while you found your thoughts drifting back to Hamzah. You could hear him moving around in the kitchen, and the low hum of his voice as he hummed a tune. The alcohol in your system made you feel bolder, more aware of your surroundings, and undeniably drawn to Hamzah.

Eventually, a commercial break gave you an excuse to get up and stretch your legs. “I’m going to grab another drink,” you announced, making your way to the kitchen with slightly tipsy movements.

Hamzah looked up as you entered, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Taking a break from the love triangle drama?”

“Something like that,” you replied, leaning against the counter. “I needed a breather. And maybe some real conversation as you would say.”

He chuckled, passing you a glass of water. “I can definitely offer that. How are you holding up?”

“Good, just the usual work stuff,” you said, taking a sip. “And you? How’s everything going with the channel?”

“Busy as always,” he said, running a hand through his curls. “But I love it. Keeps me distracted.”

As you watched him, you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked tonight. His dark curls framed his face perfectly, and his eyes sparkling with the dim lighting making your heart warm to him more. Was it the alcohol making you see him in this romantic light, or had you always felt this way?

There was a moment of comfortable silence, the kind that often fell between you two. It was in these moments that you felt closest to him, the quiet allowing for an unspoken connection to surface.

“You know,” you began, your voice dropping to a more playful tone, “you’re missing out on all the fun out there. Maybe you should join us and see what all the fuss is about.”

Hamzah looked a little taken aback by your forwardness, his cheeks coloring slightly. “I don’t know if I’d call it fun,” he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “But I guess I could sit with you guys for a bit.”

You stepped closer to him, feeling emboldened by the drinks you’d had. “I think you’d enjoy it more than you think,” you said, your voice soft and teasing moving closer to Hamzah.

Hamzah’s eyes widened slightly, and he seemed at a loss for words. “Maybe… maybe I’ll give it a try,” he stammered, his usual confidence momentarily shaken by your proximity.

You smiled, taking another sip of your drink. “Good. It’s always more fun with you around, Hamzah.”

Before he could respond, the sound of Mandy calling your name from the living room broke the moment. “Come on, we’re missing the show!”

You gave Hamzah one last playful look before turning to leave. “Think about it,” you said over your shoulder as you made your way back to the couch.

As you settled back in with Mandy and Martin, you couldn’t help but glance back towards the kitchen, where Hamzah stood, looking a little dazed but undeniably intrigued. The night continued with the usual banter and laughter, but now, there was an unspoken tension between you and Hamzah.

The chatter of Mandy and Martin filled the living room as you huddled on the couch, eyes glued to the chaotic drama of Love Island. The alcohol coursing through your veins loosened your inhibitions and heightened your senses. Each moment spent watching the ridiculous antics on-screen only made you think of Hamzah, who had just slipped into the kitchen for a drink.

You couldn’t help but admire him from afar. The way his dark curls fell effortlessly around his face, the way his shirt clung to his frame just right—it was all mesmerizing. With every laugh that rang out from the room, you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with longing. It was as if the alcohol had amplified everything you felt for him, making him the most attractive person in the room.

Suddenly, Hamzah reappeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. “Hey, can you come here for a second?” His voice broke through your thoughts, and you found yourself looking into his warm, inviting eyes.

“Me?” you asked, slightly surprised but undeniably intrigued. “What’s up?”

“Just something I wanted to show you,” he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

Your heart raced at the invitation, and you quickly excused yourself from the couch, making your way to the kitchen. As you stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. It was just you and Hamzah, and the air was thick with unspoken tension.

“What did you want to show me?” you asked, leaning against the counter, feeling slightly tipsy but more confident by the alcohol.

Without answering, Hamzah closed the distance between you in a heartbeat. His hands found your waist as he pulled you closer, and before you could process what was happening, he leaned in and captured your lips with his. The kiss was sudden and electrifying, igniting a rush of warmth that spread through your body.

You melted against him, surprised at the intensity of his kiss and the urgency behind it. Hamzah’s lips moved against yours with a passionate hunger, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. As you responded, kissing him back, you felt your head spin, the world around you fading into nothingness. The kiss deepened, his hands roaming to the small of your back, pulling you even closer as if he never wanted to let go.

Your heart raced as you leaned into him, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth radiating from his body. The moment felt electric, charged with all the unspoken feelings you had harbored for so long. Hamzah’s breath mingled with yours, creating a shared rhythm that left you breathless. You could feel the heat rising between you, the chemistry strong as you lost yourself in the kiss.

As the kiss continued, you tangled your fingers in his dark curls, deepening the connection, feeling every rush of adrenaline that came with it. Hamzah responded by pressing you against the counter, his body a reassuring weight against yours, grounding you in the midst of the overwhelming emotions swirling around you.

You pulled back for a moment, breathless, your foreheads resting together as you both gasped for air. The playful glint in his eyes now had a serious undertone, a depth of feeling that sent your heart racing all over again. “Wow,” he breathed, still trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, feeling a giddy rush of exhilaration wash over you.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Really?” you asked, your heart soaring at his confession.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze steady and sincere. “You’re beautiful, and I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.”

Just then, the sound of Mandy calling from the living room broke the intimate atmosphere. “Hey! What’s taking so long in there?”

You exchanged a knowing look with Hamzah, both of you unable to suppress the smiles spreading across your faces.

“Guess we should get back before they wonder if we’re plotting something,” you said, reluctantly stepping away from him.

Hamzah nodded but lingered for a moment longer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe we are,” he said teasingly, his voice low.

With one last shared smile, you turned and headed back into the living room, feeling the thrill of the kiss linger in the air. You settled back onto the couch next to Mandy and Martin, trying to focus on the screen while your heart raced with the memory of Hamzah’s lips on yours.

As he rejoined the group, Mandy immediately looked at him with a teasing grin. “What took you so long? Did you find the secret stash of snacks or something?”

Hamzah chuckled, glancing between you and your friends. “Just… got distracted,” he said, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Martin raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing something had shifted in the air. “Distracted, huh? Doing what, exactly?” he probed, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, you know, just talking,” Hamzah replied, his tone casual, but you could see a hint of nervousness in his demeanor.

Mandy smirked, nudging him playfully. “You two were in there long enough for a serious conversation. What happened!”

You felt your cheeks flush at the teasing, but Hamzah simply laughed it off, shrugging his shoulders. “Nothing major. Just catching up. “

As the teasing continued, you settled into the couch, the warmth of the moment still lingering between you and Hamzah. You could feel his presence beside you, the comfort of being near him made you blush. The electricity of your earlier kiss hung in the air, unspoken yet there.

In a bold move, you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. To your delight, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in closer. The warmth radiating from him made you feel safe and cherished, and you couldn’t help but smile.

Hamzah glanced down at you, his expression softening. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” you replied, looking up at him. “I’m really good, actually.”

He smiled back, his eyes shining with warmth. “Good,” he said softly.

As the episode of Love Island continued, you found yourself stealing glances at Hamzah, who seemed engrossed in the show. Yet, every time your eyes met, a silent understanding passed between you, you are going back to his house tonight.

[bernardsbendystraws]

Pink Petals

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

See pinned post for (series) masterlist and (oneshots) masterlist and more.

Summary: Chris had a past with a few girls who had left him burned. Y/n had succumbed to the utter tragedy of giving up on her high school sweetheart a while ago. Chris walks into Y/n’s flower shop, searching for  a bouquet of flowers for a girl. A blind date takes the lovelorn pair into fate’s hands. Chris isn’t holding back his true colors anymore. He’s a true romantic. Handwritten letters, cheesy compliments…and maybe some flowers. 

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, mentions of SA, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

Part Six: On The Floor

Chris’s POV

I was disappointed to wake up alone. Tired from filming the past couple days, I roll over to see my clock striking just after three in the afternoon. Letting out a loud huff as I curl a pillow against my chest, I feel myself frowning from the lack of hair tickling my nose. 

I miss her. 

The thought alone made my gut clench with fear. I was scared of getting hurt for the longest time. But, that was no longer my biggest fear.

My biggest fear had nothing to do with her. It had everything to do with me. I knew what I wanted–I knew I wanted her. From what she had shown me, all of me was determined to stay as long as she wanted me. Sure, I didn’t know her like that back of my hand, but I felt like I could. Even without that type of understanding, I knew her enough to see she wasn’t the girl that had ripped away at my heart. 

She had long nails that soothed over my skin caringly. They didn’t claw even though they could. 

Emily. Emily had practically scratched my heart out of my chest. Being naive, I gave her everything. I didn’t know what I was doing, I still didn’t know what I was doing.

But, I wanted her. 

Looking back at it, it was quite shallow. I wanted to experience love and she was the prettiest girl in my grade at the time. I liked her, I had strong feelings for her, but I never loved her. 

It was all the same still since I felt like my heart had been ripped into shreds. Love would’ve required me to truly know her beyond the person she showed to me. The perfect, sweet girl she portrayed was far from the truth. 

Giving someone everything and then feeling so humiliated for it was the origin of my avoidance towards any sort of true romance beyond a fling. But, I got tired of those. I got tired of avoiding something I knew I wanted because I was scared I would mess it up. 

Embarrassment and lies weren’t my biggest fears. Despite the trauma, the deep seeded beliefs of betrayal did nothing to compare to my actual nightmare. 

It being me. 

I knew I wasn’t a bad person, but I was human. I made mistakes. But, I couldn’t even begin to swallow the idea of fucking up a perfect puzzle with a piece painted with lies. Again, I never seemed to think before I acted. My ego got the best of me at times and honestly, being clueless made me want to curl up into a ball and cry. 

I didn’t want to hurt someone with my own scars. 

Especially not her. 

Picking up my phone from my nightstand, I see a goodmorning text from her. My lips curl into a smile, quickly typing a message back. 

[ To Y/n: Goodmorning flower girl ] 

Pushing send, I imagine the smile on her face reading my text. 

Would she like it?

Mindlessly beginning to scroll on social media, my thumb quickly swipes back up. Retracing the motion, my mouth runs dry at the sight in front of me. 

A blurry picture of Y/n and I with our hands intertwined in the aquarium. No doubt from the fan who had hurriedly rushed away after asking for a picture. 

Due to the dim light and foggy details, our identities were not able to be confirmed. I hadn’t worn the shirt out and around since it was new. There were no videos or pictures with the jeans I had worn either. 

I mean, I had gone shopping to find the perfect outfit. 

I just wanted to look good for her and feel confident. 

Silently thanking myself, I read the comments. A multitude of people are not entertaining the post in the slightest. The clothes are unfamiliar, my hair looks a bit darker than usual and more styled, and there was no evidence technically. It was just a claim. 

The anonymous instagram account was right about the claim, but that meant nothing to me. It only mattered if people believed it. 

Part of me wanted to hit the message button and ask for it to be taken down. 

Processing the idea, I came to the conclusion that it would draw more attention. Maybe the account would even post the DM and then that would be proof in itself. 

I can’t. 

Thinking over every possibility, the best option was to stay silent. 

My head starts to ache by my temples from the overload of information. I turn off my phone, letting it fall on my chest as I rub my hands over my face. 

Only five seconds into the day and I was already over it. 

Think, Chris. Don’t fuck this up. Think. 

_

Y/n’s POV

The teenage girls in front of me had pestered me ruthlessly. I had even taken a peek at my appearance in my phone camera, making sure there was no food stuck in my teeth. 

Seven times. 

Over the course of the past two hours they had paced around the same ten feet of space in my shop, I had offered help seven fucking times. Each time, they brushed me off. They were definitely teenagers, but they weren’t young enough to be acting how they were. I could see the school lanyard in the girls wallet dangling, year 12. 

A senior in high school on a weekday was in my flower shop with her friend, giggling like thirteen year old mean girls. 

I was fucking annoyed. 

The fifteen minute timer had gone off on my phone a while ago. I had warned the girls and they continued to just walk in the same circle around the display and whisper in each other’s ears. 

As the final alarm sounded, I happily ushered them out as they looked a little defeated. I flip the sign to close on the door, watching as they look around the shop front in circles. 

Someone needs to get their goddamn kids. 

Organizing the few receipts that had piled up throughout the day, I hear my phone ringer echo. Flipping over the device, I smile as I see Chris’s picture and name clouding my screen. 

I swipe accept, placing the phone on speaker as I start wiping down the counters of my shop. 

“Hello?” I answer. 

I hear a rumble of noise on the other side of the phone, presumably traffic from the resemblance. 

“Hey, um…I was wondering if you would want to hang out and go on a date or do anything, really. I’m close by and I know you get off of work at this point usually. I, um, I might already be five minutes away…” Chris’s voice sounds. 

My eyes widen as I scurry the wet wipe rushedly over the counter surface and toss it in the trash. Looking down at my appearance, I bite my lower lip with annoyance. I felt lazier than usual this morning and that was noticeable in my outfit choice. 

Loose, straight cut jeans with a light wash and an oversized shirt that read ‘Plant mom’ in green on white fabric. The most I had going for me were the small gold hoops adorning my ears. My face had been irritated by sleeping in makeup when I accidentally fell asleep with Chris on my couch. Deciding to give it a break, my skin and face were bare besides a couple pimple patches stamped over the blemishes. 

“I, uh…I don’t really look presentable right now, I–” 

“Uh-uh-uh," he tuts. "--that’s incorrect. I mean, I can’t see you–but you’re wrong.” I inhale sharply as I smooth my palms over my clothes. “Anyhow, can I come pick you up?” he asks. 

I close my eyes and suck in my lips. Why right now? I can’t. I can’t let him see me like this. He’s not gonna want me if I look like–

My thoughts get cut off by the sound of his voice. “Please? I really wanna see you.” he pleads. 

Pouting at the sweet confession, my mind numbs my doubts. “Yeah, of course. I’m still at my shop and I–”

“Turning in now, hold on, I’ll come to the door.” 

The line goes dead as I hear a car door shut in the background. 

Fuck. 

I had gotten so excited, my heart spoke before my mind. 

Although it wasn’t ideal, it had me squinting my eyes in confusion. 

I always thought things through. In fact, I thought things through too much. My mind never stopped swimming in doubt. I drowned at night. That’s why it was so hard for me to sleep. I retraced over every word, every mistake I had ever made. The water filled my lungs with self depreciation.

But, he seemed like a breath of fresh air. 

It was concerning how little my mind worked around him. His presence alone gained my undivided attention as I picked up every detail about him. I had never been that observant of other people, I was always too stuck in my own head to even notice any small detail that wasn’t shoved in my face. 

Not with Chris. 

My mind seemed trained on keeping an ever going list of small details about the man. He was always fidgeting with something, even if it was calmly. I had seen him fiddle with the string on his hoodie an uncountable amount of times. Chris also had a painfully ignorant habit of constantly messing with his lips or mouth. I swear, my eyes wouldn’t linger so much on his soft pink lips if they weren't always puckering together as he sucked on a mint or candy. 

I didn’t mind though. 

I really didn’t mind.

But, it did drive me nuts. His mouth made my mind go numb, but the aftertaste of his kiss always had me retracing the lingering flavor to a mint or a sweetened sucker of a sort. Chris was obviously good with kissing. That included both his lips and his tongue. Although, the habit had an effect on me greatly. 

I found myself imagining his mouth on me–all over me. 

In fact, the day after he had slept over, I had gotten lost in my imagination. The thoughts as I rubbed over myself were embarrassingly about him and only him. I had finished, moaning out his name as I imagined his head in between my thighs. 

A load of shame had me questioning if I could ever look him in the eyes again. But, as the door of my shop swung open and rang the bell with the movement, I found my answer. 

Chris steps inside, letting the door fall shut behind him. He turns the lock swiftly. He spares me a wave as he walks over to me with open arms. I laugh as he wraps the limbs around me, squeezing me tightly. I find myself letting out a deep breath as I hug him back, no longer worried about the pimple patches decorating my face. 

As he pulls away and looks down at me, he runs his hands down my hair on either side. “You’re such a liar. You look as pretty as ever.” he proclaims. 

Flushed in the cheeks, I avert my gaze to the side to stare out the shop window. I’m immediately frowning at the sight of the teenage girls laughing and giving quick glances to me. 

“What’s wrong?” Chris asks, following my gaze. 

I see him follow my gaze in the corner of my eye. The girls both take out their phones, pointing them at us. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

As the words leave Chris’s mouth, I squeal. He pulls me down quickly. 

Crouching under the counter, I lose balance. I feel his hands grip around my shoulders tighter, but gravity prevails. My back lays roughly on the ground, an added weight flushing against my body.

I flinch, anticipating the impact of the hard floor on my head. With my eyes squinted shut, his body warmth radiating around me does little to ease the clenched muscles in my abdomen. 

This is gonna hurt.

My head falls into a semi-hard surface. I open my eyes to see Chris strayed on top of me. As he maneuvers his fingers, I recognize the cushion between the floor as his hand. 

“Fuck,” he whispers out with little air. My gut clenches yet again, but not for the same reason. I look lower, his body pressed on mine sending a wave of heat burning me all the way up to the tips of my ears. “--are you okay? I didn’t mean to knock you over, I–”

“You’re fine.” I squeak out. 

Chris nudges a questionable glance at me. His face eases into a small grin as he lets his free hand brush over my tinted cheeks. 

“--’m making you nervous again, huh?” he teases. 

Swallowing thickly, I shake my head, unable to speak. Chris laughs at this while gently caressing my burning cheek. The lava pools lower as my legs dart together, only to be stopped by his torso. 

The vibrations rumbling in his chest grow louder at the action. My hands on his shoulders push against him as he takes deep breaths, trying to calm the chuckles down. 

“No, no,” the hand calloused around the back of my head rubs soothingly. I attempt to look away from his face as he focuses on me. The same soothing touch grips my head securely, but not rough, simply redirecting me to meet his gaze again. “--’m sorry, it’s just so fun teasin’ ya.” he murmurs. 

Rolling my eyes, I huff out. “Yeah, yeah.” I state. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Chris leans forward. My chest rises as the air gets stuck in my lungs. I feel his nose graze mine, drifting down the side of my cheek. “--you like my teasing, don’t you?” he purrs.

My mouth runs dry at his words. The obvious sultry behind his faux sympathy driving my nerves wild as my veins electrify with excitement. I focus down to the pressure between my hips, pressure not just from his body pressed onto mine. 

A kiss along my neck makes the baby hairs stiffen. I find myself physically restraining my hips from grinding onto his lower stomach. “Chris…” I whine out. 

Trailing a multitude of pecks down to my collar bone, he stutters the movements, speaking with an open mouth still settled on my skin. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks. 

My hands pull into his hair, grasping at the soft stands before guiding his lips to my own. The butterflies swarm up and down every inch of my body, piling in the bottom of my gut as he places his tongue into my mouth sloppily. 

Letting out a hum of contentment, I chase his passionate movements while tugging harder with my hands. Kissing around the side of my lips, Chris shifts his hand around the back of my head lower, cradling my neck upward. With the exposed skin, his lips wander over my throbbing pulse in my neck. 

“You never answered me…” he breathes between kisses. 

I hum, urging him to retrace the conversation as my thoughts run to a halted stop. My knees crane inward, chasing a relief from the pressure that feels scalding hot, torturing me between my legs. 

“I asked,” his lips gravitate back up my exposed neck. His hand caverns my head back downward, his lips pressing onto mine swiftly. “--if you like my teasing.” he finishes. 

With the teasing pecks of his lips grazing around my mouth, I start to furrow my eyebrows with frustration. Noticing my silence, Chris stares into me, searching for an answer in my parted lips. 

“Are you gonna–”

Pulling back by his hair, I collide our mouths together once more swiftly. I let myself part from his mouth, gasping for air. 

“Shut up and kiss me. You know the answer is yes.” I remark.

At this, our lips meet both in search for each other. The messy movements leads  a dribble of saliva gliding down my chin, carelessly being ignored as I let his tongue dance in my mouth. Passion and anticipation explode, interrupting any wandering thoughts and keeping them trained on him. 

“Mmmm..” he hums into my mouth. 

The vibration makes my hand grip tighter into his hair, eliciting a noise more strained. Sloppy movements become harsher. I feel his free hand wander underneath my back and the floor, arching me into him. 

“Ya know,” I get out quickly before getting cut off once more by his lips. He lets out a subtle hum of a question. “--I,” another planted kiss leads to me breathlessly chasing his lips in between words, “--Chris,” I whine out, still reciprocating the heavy kiss as he purses his lips over mine. 

“What? What is it, pretty girl?” he asks. 

The strain and lack of air in his words with heavy pants makes my back arch further into his grip. He tightens his hold, keeping me as close as possible. His lips trace my jawline as I scratch gently along his scalp. 

“We gotta stop before we end up fucking on this floor and,” as he reaches my sweet spot just beneath my ear, a subtle moan breathes out from my lips. 

“There it is, hm,” he hums against the skin before immediately reattaching to the sensitive flesh. 

The volume of him slurping sends my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I attempt to retrace my steps back to my previous sentence. 

Breaking away from the spot with a soft kiss, he starts trailing his lips against my jawline once more. “--what were you saying? Something around fucking on the floor and…” he trails off, continuing to glide his kisses onto the other side of my neck, craning my head with his hand supporting the back of my head. 

“I,” I find the instinct to pull him closer, my eyes darting open to see the security camera pointed at us from the corner. “--we gotta stop before, um…” my breath hitches as he nibbles lightly on the end of my ear. “--uh, gotta stop before we fuck on this floor and in front of–oh god,” I let out, pulling him in closer by the hair as he finds the sweet spot on the other side of my neck. 

“In front of god, hm?” he teases. 

I shake my head with small movements. “No, in front of, um…in front of,” I trail off mindlessly as I feel his lips curl into a smile against my neck. 

“C’mon, you got it.” he praises with a fake genuine tone.

Biting on the inside of my cheek to bring my mind at bay, I try to ignore the tensing in my gut, failing as I cling tighter with my legs around his torso. 

“I, we gotta stop, Chris. Not here, not in front of the, um—security cameras, oh fuck,” I whine out as I feel his teeth gently clamp on the delicate spot. 

He breaks the hold on the skin, making me intake a large breath of air. I flinch as he kisses gently over the sensitive skin. 

“You don’t want it on camera, hm? I mean–” 

A pounding on glass sounds through the shop. The interruption sends us both exchanging concerned glances. Chris sits back on his knees, carefully peeking over the counter. 

As soon as his eyes dart over, his ruffled hair bounces upward as he falls back down rushedly. I sit up, going to creep above to see, but I’m stopped by Chris. 

Looking back, I see him with a distressed expression. I tilt my head with a concerned look as he shakes his head with a disappointed sigh. 

“Don’t try to look. Please.” he says. 

He sits defeated, leaning against the back wall with his elbows on his propped up knees lazily. The shift in energy leaves me clueless. I desperately want to look over the counter, but his pouty face draws my attention more as I start scooting next to him. 

My back hits the wall, my arm grazing his as I let my legs rest flat on the floor. I start to itch at my fingertips in my lap nervously. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong–”

“No,” the snap in his voice sends my shoulders shrinking inward. “I…no, I’m sorry. I’m frustrated and I don’t know what to do, okay?” he shakes his head, looking upwards at the ceiling. “This morning, I saw a blurry picture of us at the aquarium. Thankfully it was such a shit picture no one is spreading it further or even believing it, but…”

As he falls silent, I curl into his side. I let my head fall onto his shoulder. I feel as he lets out a heavy sigh. “--but?” I repeat his statement, urging him to continue. 

“But, I’ve never done this. I don’t wanna bring you into something that I don’t even understand. I can’t stand the thought of hurting you. I…” he looks forward, nudging his head to the counter. “--if you peep over that counter right now, I’m scared of what would come after.” he explains. 

I sit up. Tangling my arm into his, I rest my hand on top of his knee. I turn towards him, offering a small smile with frowned eyes. “Do you want me to look?” I ask. 

Chris gives me a confused expression. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

I shrug. “Do you want me to look, Chris? I won’t if you don’t want me to. I…” I lick over my swollen lips as I let my eyes swim into his. “--I trust you. If you don’t want me to look, I won’t. I think I have an idea of what it is, but regardless, I won’t look if you’re not ready for me to.” I proclaim, remembering the girls from earlier. 

They must’ve recognized me vaguely from the picture? 

I didn’t exactly know, but I knew they seemed as if they were looking for something–or someone. 

Chris’s eyes soften. He tilts his head, glancing back forwards as he chews nervously onto his lip. “I…I don’t want you to not look, but, I’m not sure if you want you to look either. I–I don’t know. I don’t wanna feel like I’m lying to you, but I don’t wanna scare you off–”

“Chris.” I interrupt. His eyes swipe over to mine as I give him a determined smile. “I’m not nervous of teenage girls.” I half-joke. 

My smile deepens as he reciprocates a small laugh from the humor. “Really?” he counters. 

I nod firmly. 

“Watch.” I state. 

Slowly pulling myself to my knees, I clasp my hands onto the front table shelves. I bring my head over the surface, the golden sunset blocked and cut into strips through the window. 

Barely giving a peep, my eyes widen as I freeze. 

It was the two girls from earlier. The two girls plus a group of at least thirty others that seemed their age, all talking in front of the windows. A couple of girls had their hands cupped to the glass and their faces, fighting the glare of the sun to see inside the display glass. Luckily, they had been focused on the opposite side of the shop, their eyes hadn’t glanced over at me or in my direction. 

Slowly lowering myself, I swallow thickly. Trying to relax my face, I turn to see Chris over my shoulder. As he analyzes my expression, he groans. I scoot back to my place adjacent to him on the wall, placing a hand on his shoulder as he hangs his head low. 

“Hey, it’s fine, I–”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” he points out, cutting me off. 

I shake my head as he looks up at me. “I was just caught off guard, it’s fine. I just assumed it’d be the two girls who had come in today who were–” My eyes go wide as I see him raise a questioning eyebrows at me. 

“Who were what?” he presses. 

I plant my lips into a tightline, shaking him off with a sigh. “It’s nothing, Chris. It’s not that big of a deal–”

“Not that big of a deal?” he interrupts. I go to speak, but as my mouth opens, it shuts with his words spilling from his lips. “It’s a big deal. What did they do, huh? Harass you? Be rude? Take pictures of you when you weren’t looking?” My face falls with a rush of confusion. I hear him huff. “See–it’s a big deal. It’s a really big fucking deal. I can’t…I can’t drag you into this. It’s selfish of me, I just–I can’t.” he says. 

My chest weighs down as my heart sinks with a heavy devastation. 

“You’re not even gonna let me make my own decisions?” Hurting, I let my anger slip onto my tongue. “--or is this just a good enough excuse for you to call it quits? Tell me, Chris. Was all this just to hurt me? Did you just need your ego boosted or–” 

“--to hurt you? I’m trying to protect you from all this. I fucking want this–I want you, you know that. I know that you know that.” he points out. I bite on my tongue as the rage subsides, leaving me with the clear evidence of his devotion with words and actions he had shown me previously. My heart bickered with my mind as I accepted the truth. 

He wants me. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, okay? I–I just…I haven’t done this in so long and I’m angry. I–I’m so angry, Chris. I don’t deserve this, I really do not deserve this.” I state with hot tears starting to cloud my eyes. The rush of emotions wavers my voice, instability and uncertainty apparent as I continue to explain, “I want you. You want me, Chris. I just, I want you to want even if things aren’t perfect. I want to be able to make decisions instead of you just–just shutting me out and—I can’t do that. I can’t.” 

I let my eyes plunder into his with intention. “Don’t hurt me trying to protect me. Please.” I let out. 

Chris lets out a breath through his nose, his chest falling as he turns his body in to face me. His bent knees widen as his arm reaches up. The hot tears brim threateningly as my lip quivers. His saddened face leaves me helpless against the flood, a stream of wet drops darting down my cheeks as I let out a broken cry. 

My body crawls into his as he embraces me comfortingly. A loud sniffle from me makes his grasp tighten, one of his hands soothingly rubbing over my spine. 

“Shhhh, shhhh, I–” his voice cracks, straining as his shoulders tremble against me. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” he says. 

I cling tighter to him as he rests his cheek on the top of my head. Cries and sniffles echo quietly as the air swivels down in temperature. 

“I’m so sorry.” he breathes out, completely defeated with a broken waver in his voice. 

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[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Spawn (MK 11) with a flighty darling—run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run

🐍ֶָ֢ Spawn isn't surprised that you are absolutely terrified of him. Having a hellspawn stalk your New York apartment and refuse to leave you alone is one hell of a scare. Still, he refuses to acknowledge that he had a part in intertwining both of your fates. It wasn't exactly difficult. You are simply a human—a mortal.

A little magic here and there and stealing your soul from your body and infecting it with a part of him also helped.

🐍ֶָ֢ You were a perfect Earthrealmer. Despite your need to flee every time he materialized out of thin air. He almost never spoke. He was like a ghost. He'd drop off groceries or things that you had been wanting to buy for the longest time. He'd sit on the edge of your couch and watch movies with you. Although he'd mostly just stare at you. It's a bad habit of his, but he just can't stop it. Your aura is so irresistible. Still, you would hide behind your couch, under your bed, or run out of your apartment and not return for hours on end.

So he tried to amend this by being as non-threatening as possible. He'd try to make himself appear smaller. He'd move something gently to notify you right before he would appear. He kept nightmares out of your dreams. The bad energy and entities that were attracted by him were never allowed within your space.

🐍ֶָ֢ You tried using holy objects on him! From every religion, you tried something. Some objects would burn him more than others, but he was used to the suffering at this point. Spawn would pluck the object out of your hand and offer his instead. You'd start fearfully sobbing and praying to a deity, or deities. It was more of an inconvenience if anything. 

He's already pissed off enough gods in his lifetime. He doesn't need one stealing your soul back and keeping you from him.

🐍ֶָ֢ It doesn't help that his K7-Leetha, and by extension his cape, have taken a liking to you. Leetha reaches out to you often, taking a hold of you. He isn't the one doing it. It's the parasite willing his body to hold you. He feels the need to emphasize this since you don't believe him. It's one of the few times he has actually used his words.

He doesn't fear much, but he fears himself. He fears himself hurting the only person he loves.

That's so fucking cheesy, he knows. It's like the plot of some stupid, shitty paranormal romance book, like his ex read.

It terrifies him. His cape will wrap you up and snuggle into you, feeding off of your warmth and energy.

It makes you woozy and panicky, only fueling him.

🐍ֶָ֢ You try to attack him, and he lets you. He can't help but chuckle at your pathetic attempt. You're like a cornered animal attacking the person trying to help you. It didn't work any of the other times, so why would it work now?

He's truly okay with it.

If it makes you feel safe, then he'll take some gunshots, punches, knives, and anything else you throw at him.

🐍ֶָ֢ Spawn tries his best to be vulnerable with you so you aren't as skittish. He speaks a little of his backstory, trying to make his voice less deep and gritty so as not to intimidate you. He asks you to call him any name, any nickname, just not Albert or Spawn. Albert has long since died, and Spawn has been through far too much to be loveable. He's just whatever he is with you. He's okay with that.

🐍ֶָ֢ The most important part is to hide his grizzly murders from you. You know he is a hellspawn and has some horrible shit and some good things sprinkled along in there. Still, his slaughters for you are sacrificial in nature. They feed him and give his obsession life. It makes Leetha even more protective of you. You make Spawn happy. You make his systems all fuzzy and hormone-y. That's how Leetha would describe it.

He keeps this secret like his life depends on it. You're getting more used to him. Why make you scared of him again?

[finniestoncrane]

Ik this is sorta late depending on time zones and this ask being cheesy as hell but what would the Riddlers do for Valentine's Day with reader? Something cheesy asf? Or not celebrating it at all? I wanna know I'm curious as hell now

Valentine's Date

Riddler Headcanons gosh i rushed so fast to get this done today!! luckily, it was a blessing as work was SLOW! so here are the boys and how they would celebrate valentine's day in my mind because i am down bad for them all and live in a fantasy world where they would all try and do something nice for you 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: suggestive stuff but it's mostly fluff!!

young justice

i can almost guarantee that if you're spending valentine's day with him, it'll be the first one he's had with a partner

so he is pushing the boat out. or... as best as he can... what with the nerves

he wouldn't do something too extravagant, not too fancy or big. that would only increase the number of people he might embarrass himself in front of

he's far more keen on taking you to a quiet, unexpected but comfortable restaurant with quiet music and only a few tables, so he can talk to you and hear you properly

he'd buy you a single rose, hire the violinist to play a song by your table, your favourite tune

no dancing, he's got two left feet, but he will reach across the table and hold your hand, stroking it with his thumb and looking into your eyes

and when he takes you home, he'll walk you to your door and offer you a shy, reserved kiss

whether or not you pull him through the door by his tie and ravage the poor beast is up to you

unburied

he wouldn't actually ask you out for valentine's day

he'd give you a rant about capitalism and how it's a made up holiday and that you should keep your calendar clear anyway just in case he decides to do an ironic date

you'd think his goal was to embarrass you, in fact, because he's showing up to your house with a little remote control and blasting your favourite song out of every speaker system you own

"hey, sh... don't ask how i know your favourite song or how i got control of your devices. just... stop thinking about it. hey. hey! you're thinking about it... don't think about it, sh you're too pretty to think about it. let me think about it, i'm smarter and prettier"

dinner isn't anything too special either. takeout pizza on a rooftop in gotham somewhere. it could be romantic though, and it would be to someone desperately in love with him like you

listening to him talk about light pollution, asking if you want to hear some riddles about constellations, pointing out the various places he's hid from his enemies

it's not traditional by any means, but it is oddly romantic. dinner, music, time alone under the dulled stars. maybe that was his plan all along

gotham

oh we are going WHOLE HOG here for valentine's day!! you know he's an old romantic, a sweet and gentle soul

so don't think for a moment that you'll be seeing any other people that day, your attention will be solely focused on each other

he's sent, uh... someone has sent in some miscellaneous threat to your workplace, so luckily for you(!) you're not required to go in! SO SURPRISE!! he's here to make you breakfast

and then a brief walk down some of the quieter streets, where he might be brave enough to ask if he can hold your hand

once you're at his apartment, you're in for some respectable but tension filled cuddles on his sofa while you watch some classic romance movies

and then he's making a beautiful three course meal for you both! pressed tablecloth on his little dining table, roses in a conical flask, candles in test tubes (is he stealing these from work?)

he'll feed you little bits of food, wiping your face with a napkin, staring into your eyes dreamily

and then the night will end with a perfect and very polite kiss that you'll wish wouldn't end

telltale

he knows how to do romance, he's been around long enough. it's more a question of whether he can be bothered to celebrate

but he'll pull himself together and act the perfect gentleman for you, regardless of how tired he is after a day of committing violent/cyber crime and being oddly agile for a man in receipt of a state pension

(a fact which will come in handy at the end of the evening...)

he'll start off the evening with the traditional gifts. a box of expensive chocolates or candy, perfectly suited to your dietary requirements of course. and a bouquet of flowers. not roses, but your favourites. he knows they'll make you happier

he's not one for being out in public, what with the whole "is he dead" thing, so you'll be dining in BUT to make it special, he has hired a discreet personal chef to provide the food for the evening

slow, quiet jazz playing in the background, just you, him, and the waiters he has hired and has threatened under extreme violence to keep their mouths shut about this particular shift

could it get any more romantic??

arkham

bless his heart but this eddie is forgetting that it's valentine's day until you're handing him a card, grasping it between his dirty fingers, smudging the soft pink colour with grimy fingerprints

then, you'll endure a fifteen minute long lecture about why you should have at least had the sense to warn him in advance, or to remind him, since you know how he can be

and when he's done, he'll be pushing you out of the room, getting rid of you so he can "finish his important work" and only then can you consider "doing something for this silly holiday"

really, he's just looking for an excuse to get you away so he can work on your very last minute present without you seeing

which of course, he'll present to you as though he had been pretending to forget all along

"i made you this, it's a symbol of our relationship"

it's the remnants of a neon question mark bent into place to resemble a heart. and there's hot glue still drying on it. and a screw stuck to it

but it's the thought that counts, and the thought is there! after all he loves you enough to have lied and put aside his important welding or whatever to haphazardly craft the lie

dano

for him, valentine's day is about showing your love for someone. because you can love them every day, but this is an excuse to make a display out of it

so expect a myriad of gifts, food, perfumes, vouchers, jewellery, stuffed animals, flowers, a handmade valentine's card

enough that it makes you guilty (and enough that you wonder if he really has just been saving all his salary instead of spending it on... furniture or therapy)

then, the personalised activities! most of which involve you doing his quiz all about you and your relationship with him, solving several riddles that lead you to a hidden compartment in the wall of his bedroom (weird.) where he's stuffed his poems to you (sweet!) which he will then recite to you, stuttering over the words and blushing the whole time

but it's not enough for him, he wants to shout it from the rooftops, show the world how much he loves you and appreciates you

he's had all this love bottled up for so long with no one deserving to give it to! let's just hope it comes out in a healthy way...

btaa

he's swooping in to your apartment very late at night

"it's only 11pm, it's still valentine's day mi amorrrrr"

look, he's very sorry that he wasn't able to spend the day with you, and that he's incredibly late to the dinner you had planned

but he's a busy little criminal, he has so many things to do AND he had to do it all by himself because he gave miss tuesday the day off so she could go on a date of her own and-

oh see! you've changed your mind now, no longer grumpy, because he was actually doing something kind for someone else

he really is a generous soul, emphasised by the fact that the reason he was late was because he was pulling off a perfect heist in a jewellery store uptown

so... did you save any leftovers for him? or is he going to have to return this beautiful ring/watch/necklace he bought you?

twojar

he's a curveball, like seriously give you whiplash kind of valentine's date

you think it's going to be a very standard evening, after all there you both are in black tie best, sipping expensive champagne, him talking about himself while you try hard not to stare at his tits

but when the meal is finished, he goes to pay in secret and then rushes you out into a car with tinted windows, and it's lucky he can get you so hot and flushed and eager that quickly, since it's not long before you arrive at the next spot

a strip club

which is? i mean not a traditional valentine's day date location, but it could be very hot

and he's booked one of the private rooms for you both, so at least you won't have to hide your blushing cheeks from the rest of the guests

but it becomes very obvious that there isn't a dancer coming to entertain you, and you worry that he expects you to get up there and put on a show, which would be a disaster because you haven't planned anything and-

"happy valentine's day"

ah. of course. why would the world's most self-absorbed man think you would want anything else for valentine's day than a private strip tease from him

and he's annoyingly very right in that assumption

btas

he absolutely does the most! and the most is often cheesy and dorky and therefor a million times more precious

the kind of guy who would buy you a rose for every day he's known you, regardless of how many days he has known you

the kind of guy who gets those little personalised lego figures made of you and him, or gets a plushie of him to give to you so he'll always be near you (and you know he's putting the personalised message in if he gets it from build a bear)

he knows your favourite starter, main and dessert are all from different restaurants, so he's made the reservations at all three with plenty of time for romantic rides in the back of cabs between each stop

it's important he has plenty of time to cover your neck with kisses, and for you to tell him how adorable he is

and then, because he is the cheesiest but in the best way, it's more than likely he'd use valentine's day as an excuse to propose to you, so he's down on one knee under the cloudy gotham night sky to ask you to marry him (and you're obviously not going to say no)

zero year

he doesn't do valentine's day, what a waste of time! he's nice enough to you the rest of the year, why should there be one day where he has to do something extra fo-

oh? oh! oh ok, if it means you have to do something for him too, then he's down for it

yes... that sounds like a wonderful excuse to get up to some mischief... (it's concerning how evil his little face looks when he's supposedly considering activities for the most romantic of holidays...)

although, why bother going out somewhere on a date, it's such a waste of time and effort

he has to keep his energy for more important things, and speaking of... he can think of very few ways to spend an evening that are better than taking you into the bedroom and sharing an exchange of giving for a few solid hours

no need to wear something nice, it's only going to get stripped off

no need to get him a gift, you'll be giving him plenty

and no need to eat something, he'll make sure you don't leave hungry, trust him

[jaylver]

GOLDEN HOUR — S.JY

synopsis: a lovesick jake wasn’t going to stop himself from being impulsive and say those three words that he has been saving for another time. seeing you during the golden hour, sun beaming on your skin, looking ever so perfect, he couldn’t hold himself back. how could you blame the poor guy anyway?

pairings: non-idol!jake x afab!reader

genre: undertone of friends to lovers, fluff, cheesy confessions, romance

warning(s): profanities

wc: 889

a/n: a little self indulgent fic hehe. hope you'll enjoy this! please leave some feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah <3

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Jake was in love. 

It wasn’t those typical teen romances where people dated just for the sake of experience, no, it was something more than that. A connection deep enough to etch into the skins of one another, pulling you to him and him to you, there was an undying spark that continuously lingered without extinguishing.

Jake was the embodiment of love. He was love itself. 

It was one of those days where it was only you and him, alone in his car right after he had picked you up and drove you home. But instead of leaving right away, the car was parked a few blocks down from yours, Frank Ocean’s ‘Blonde’ playing on shuffle in the background. The sky was a hue of pink and orange, telling you that it was time to head home, yet you weren’t willing to.

“Thanks for driving me home … again,” you laughed, feeling slightly embarrassed for having inconvenienced Jake, but he was thinking the complete opposite of being inconvenienced.

“It’s no problem,” Jake smiled, and no matter how hard he tried, he was still nervous around you. Maybe because he was dying to profess his love for you, confess and get you to be his, but he was holding himself back. “It’s along the way back to my house anyway,” it wasn’t.

Jake could already imagine the missed calls from his mother, text messages asking about his whereabouts, making it a routine for him to be home a little later than usual. 

“Still, I feel bad sometimes,” you shrugged out of earnest. “But I’m really grateful, though,”

“I want to do this, Y/N, don’t feel bad,” his hold on the steering wheel tightened, watching the sun hitting your skin, making it almost glitter-like. You were the most beautiful person he has ever seen.

You nodded, biting on your lips thoughtfully. “I don’t really want to leave,”

Jake swore he felt his heart stop and revive, then proceeding to beat at ten times speed. The effect of your words surely made him light headed. “Then don’t,” he joked lightly, highkey dying internally. “‘Blonde’s’ still playing! Plus, ivy is next, isn’t it your favourite song?”

“You remembered!”

Of course he did. He remembered everything about you like second nature.

“It's nothing,” he laughed, waving you off, but internally feeling giddy when he saw your beaming face. You were so, so pretty.

“It is something to me,” you said softly and truthfully, staring into those puppy eyes of his.

“I like you,” Jake blurted out, as if the words were poured out before it even went through his mind. He did not expect himself to do this at all. Fuck. 

Your wide eyes and gaped mouth only made him anxious, short silence filling the space between you two. Say something! Say something!

“I like you too, Jake,”

There it was.

“W–what?”

“Hm?” you tilted your head, looking back at Jake’s shock expression. “Did you expect a rejection instead?”

“Well—kinda—no—uh—” he was stuttering. The famous charmer Jake Sim was actually stuttering and losing his composure. 

“I like you, very very much,” you said it again, each time making Jake’s heart flutter insanely. 

“God, Y/N, you’re—” he exhaled, in disbelief that he had bagged his crush, “—everything, absolutely everything to me,”

Jake reached over for you and pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tight. The moment he let go, his eyes wouldn’t leave your face. He was taking every part of you in, gaze wandering every inch of your features as if he was memorising them.

“I—uhm—should leave, shouldn’t I?” you broke the momentary silence, noticing the time gradually slipping by. “As much as I want to stay, I don’t think my mum would approve,”

“O–oh, yeah! Sorry, I forgot,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, managing a lopsided smile for you. 

“It’s okay. Text me when you reach home safely, will you?”

“I will,” he squeezed your hand in reassurance. “You should get going now,”

“I probably should,” you nodded, holding onto your things tightly. “Bye, Jakey,”

“Bye,” he breathed out, staring at you with so much love that no one else could amount to. But then, he remembered something.

“Hey—” he went to stop you before you could exit his car, “so, summer’s coming up and I was wondering if you’d like to go somewhere with me,”

“Something like a date?”

“Very much so,”

“I’d love to,”

“Cool,”

“Cool,” you repeated, snickering a little at Jake’s reddening ears. “Make sure to tell me about your plans. Bye!” you snuck a quick peck on his cheek before exiting the car and slamming the door shut, turning around to wave him goodbye before disappearing behind your front door, all while the only thing Jake could do was stay in shock.

His fingers lingered on the spot your lips had made contact with, giddiness welled up in Jake’s stomach, butterflies swarming and heart going crazy. You just had that effect on him, always, undoubtedly.

It was just two lovers, sitting in the car, listening to ‘Blonde’ and falling for each other. Tension finally broken and true feelings revealed, Jake could die a happy man right there and then. You were his golden hour, his radiant beam in the night, the love of his life, and he wouldn’t trade anything for it.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog

[disillusioneddanny]

People Watching (Jason/Danny)

Jason leaned back in his seat at the bookshop, his eyes no longer on his book but the couple in front of him.  They were around college age, from what Jason could see. He had started watching them when blond girl started laughing at a joke until she started to cry. It hadn’t been an all that funny joke, either but it was cute the way she seemed to hang on the brunet man’s every single word. From what Jason got from their eavesdropping, they had been together for four years. Or well, forty nine months since they had decided to loudly count out the months. 

She had a ring on her finger but she still called him her boyfriend. And they had talked about meeting in some class, metaphysical philosophy, the guy had supplied. Jason’s heart felt light as he listened to them, he was happy for them, he was. 

It was why he was watching them, why he was listening to the guy, his name was Jeremy, apparently, as he teased Hannah, the blond, about how she acted around the holidays. His heart felt light and he felt a longing that he recognized so insanely intimately. It was the same ache that he got any time he spent time people watching. 

He wanted to feel all that love and emotion for himself one day. Dreamt of the day that he would be able to be attached to the person he was holding, not just having someone warm his bed for the night. He wanted to fall without caution, to be so utterly in love with someone that he laughed at their bad jokes.  

He didn’t know if that would ever actually happen for him, though. How could it when he had screwed up so many things in his life? He had died, come back, become a murderer, a crime lord and practically ruined any chance he had at a normal life. Jason had dreams once upon a time, hopes that he wanted to accomplish one day. He had wanted to go to college and fall in love like the couple in front of him had. That wasn’t in the cards, though, not for someone who was still considered legally dead. 

“They’re so cute it’s disgusting,” a voice said with a snort. Jason looked up from his book to find someone taking a seat beside him on the plush couch, a coffee mug wrapped in their hands. “But yet, I still always get wistful when I see couples like that,” they said softly. 

“Yeah, me too,” Jason said quietly, picking up his mug of tea. 

“I’m Danny,” the man said as Jason took a moment to look over his new people watching partner. He was just a little shorter than Jason, dark black hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of his head. Jason could just barely see a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the collar of Dnany’s shirt. But the thing that really got him, was the crystal blue eyes that seemed to shine in the low lights of the cheesy hipster coffee shop they were sitting in.

“Jason,” the vigilante said with a small smile. “So, I’m assuming you’re a people watcher too?”

Danny let out a hum. “I suppose, I mean, I’m only looking just to live through them vicariously. I’ve never really been in love, at least not seriously,” he said quietly, his eyes glued to the couple, a familiar longing in his eyes. 

Jason gave him a small, tentative smile. “No I get it,” he said with a soft laugh as he looked back at the couple, the man now holding the woman’s hand in his and staring at her like she was the only person in the world. “I have a problem with cutting people out if they get too close. I end up all alone each time, but for some reason I just keep hoping that I’ll find it one day.”

Danny nodded and took a sip of his coffee before he looked over at Jason and gave him a kind smile. “It’s scary,” he admitted quietly. “To let someone get so close, to let them love you, even the bad parts of you that you try to keep hidden away.”

“It is,” Jason admitted, carefully closing his book, taking note of the page he had left it on. “It’s funny, I read so many romance novels, I love romantic comedies but to actually allow myself to feel vulnerable like that in my day to day life? It’s fuckin’ terrifying.”

At that, his new friend let out a soft laugh and nodded his head. “It’s so scary to let someone know me. It’s just so much safer to just not allow people to get close and know all of my secrets. But at the same time,  it’s all just so monotone and lonely,” he said, his eyes still shining with an unspoken sadness. 

Jason knew what he was going to say next was going to sound cheesy as fuck. Knew that there was a chance that Danny was going to laugh in his face. But he had to try, had to just give himself a moment to shoot his shot and see if maybe it would work. How could it not? Even if Danny didn’t know Jason’s exact problems or hangups, he still understood where Jason was coming from. Knew just as well at how terrifying it was to let someone know him. 

“I know we just met, and I started this conversation in a really depressing way,” Danny started, turning to fully look at Jason. “But I actually came over here to get to know you. I saw you when I was ordering my coffee and I just, I wanted to get to know you,” he said before his face turned a bright red as he looked down at his coffee and blushed. “I’m sorry, I’m being weird.”

“No,” Jason said with a small smile. “You’re not, not at all. I’d like to keep talking to you. You get it,” he said, feeling his own cheeks heat up slightly at the admission. 

“I get it,” Danny asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jason just snorted and shook his head. “What are you reading?”

“Anna Karenina,” Jason admitted, showing the cover. “It’s considered one of the greatest pieces of literature ever written.”

Danny smiled, a beautiful thing showing off dimples in his cheeks. “Tell me about it? I’ve never read it.”

A wide grin spread on Jason’s face as he launched into an in depth summary about Anna Karenina and why it was one of his favorite novels of all time. 

Somehow a coffee meet cute turned into a coffee date, and then a coffee date turned into a dinner date. The dinner date led to Danny inviting Jason over for dinner and a movie. And that led to book dates and movie dates, it turned into spending more days at Danny’s house than he did at his safe houses. It led to nights in bed, the lights out and the blankets over their heads as they learned each others deepest secrets, whispering childhood stories and childhood traumas to one another in the safety of the dark. 

Jason found himself falling more and more as each day passed by. He found himself holding Danny in his arms as he dreamed about a house behind a picket fence, and started building a home for himself in Danny’s embrace. 

“I love you,” was whispered between the two of them late at night. Soon Jason found himself meeting Danny’s family, a sister and two best friends who were like siblings to him. And Danny found himself being dragged to the manor to meet the insane hoard of siblings and an emotionally repressed father. 

Secrets were passed between them, talks about their deaths, their lives as teen heroes, the desire to just have something normal. That led to the agreement of being one another’s something normal. 

It eventually led to Jason moving into Danny’s home, boxes carried between them and friends as they unpacked Jason’s things and melded their lives together. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Danny said with a laugh as he fell onto the couch beside Jason, throwing a blanket over their legs after. He smiled as he held out his hand to show off the silver band that Jason had just given him hours before. 

“I can’t believe you walked up to a random stranger to talk about people watching and it led to this,” Jason murmured, nipping at Danny’s earlobe. Danny snorted and turned his head to give the vigilante a soft kiss. 

“Worth it,” he murmured, cupping Jason’s face in his hands. “Completely and absolutely worth it.”

“I love you, Danny Todd,” Jason murmured, rubbing his nose against Danny’s.  

“I love you too, Jason Todd,” Danny whispered, his lips a hair’s breadth away from Jason’s. “Thanks for letting me in.”

Jason just smiled. “Thanks for not cutting me out,” he murmured before closing the distance between them and kissing his husband deeply.

Come chat with me on the new DPxDC 18+ SFW Discord Server! Dm me for an invite if you're 18 or older<3

[grinnames]

RTV! Tour Part 2: Film Department, Grinnames POV

@rtv-puzzlevision-studios

Follow up to this post

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Didn't spend as long on this, because I'm short on time:

RTV: I highly advise you against eating these letters, as they probably taste like tears, CHEESY romance and PARASOCIAL relationships. So that’s a no, I’m afraid.

Colores: (chuckles) (pretend coughs)

Grinnames: I honestly wouldn't mind it, but okay… (pouts, her ribbons droop) How do you know what they taste like anyway… You would know that it’s really not so bad if you try them…

RTV does his best to ignore that comment.

Grinnames wonders if Mr. Puzzles actually knows and has eaten paper before. Because she knew for a fact that paper stained with tears and filled with cheesy romance didn't actually taste so bad. Leaves a sweet and salty taste in her mouth. He has probably never eaten paper in his life. Look at this dude, assuming what paper tastes like, talking out of his-

RTV: As for your first question, well, Saiko and Bob have been…let go a while ago due to some HEAVY tension in the crew. So, I fear they won’t be appearing on the shows anytime soon. Rest assured though they are just FINE.”

Grinnames: I see. Thank you sir! (she takes it with a grain of salt)

Grinnames thinks that it actually made a bit of sense that Saiko and Bob were let go, given their personalities. But when someone says that "they are just fine," she knows that a lot of the time, someone is in fact, NOT fine. She says that to herself all the time. And whenever she does, she is in fact, NOT FINE. She hopes that they are "not fine" in the sense that they are simply homeless and jobless.

Grinnames finally leaves Mr. Puzzles alone.

...

RTV: - haaave a TALK with you. (places Animsay back on the floor)

Grinnames: (thinking) Wow. (She is half-unimpressed, half-amused at this point)

Animsay: Hello, bonjour, assalamu alaikum, hallo! The name’s Animsay, some of you may know me from a certain site, wink wink, others maybe not. I’m the head of the Social Media Department but we will probably get to that later! Probably.

Depending on your choices, yada yada. You read the rules.

Grinnames: ... (She gets a strange feeling, she can't describe it, but she quickly forgets it)

Grinnames: I kind of like her! She's weird!

...

Later, in the Film Department, after the gang is done introducing everything...

Grinnames (to the SMG3 crew): Question! For all of you! Why did y’all start working here? I was wondering because well… as cool as working for Mr. Puzzles is, it seemed surprising to me that all of you just got up and began working in a film department all of the sudden! So… what made you want to work here? Why the change? 

...

Later, Grinnames pulls SMG3 aside.

Grinnames: Hey! SMG3!

Grinnames: I just wanted to let you know that you’re the reason I came to the tour. I just loved watching you be yourself, so confidently and unafraid!

Grinnames: You inspire me, man! (she bows her head) I wouldn’t have started watching the show without you! 

(SMG3 can put a response here)

Grinnames: Anyways! I hope you and the crew don't mind a special surprise in the fridge later!

And with that, she zips off towards the kitchen.

Grinnames raids the fridge. She finds what she needs.

First, she needs snacks. She finds some apples and strawberries. Jackpot.

She washes them in the sink, and then slices them apart with her claws, lickety-split. She piles them into a bowl and enjoys them thoroughly. Sliced fruit is the best snack!

Now she needs ingredients. There are the veggies. The rice. The BBQ sauce. The dead rat in the corner. She'll use a bit of everything here. And her secret ingredient.

She will try not to get distracted and accidentally eat the ingredients.

Grinnames begins to cook.

...

20 minutes later...

Finished.

Behold, her best dish: Mystery Meat with Stir-Fried V*getables.

Grinnames slices off a chunk of the rather intimidating obelisk of unknown flesh and a few vegetables to eat for herself.

Grinnames then opens the fridge, put the mystery meat slice in the fridge. She scribbled "TO THE GANG, FROM GRINNAMES" on a napkin and stuck it under the plate. She dusted off her hands, admiring her work, before closing the fridge.

Snacks for a snack. The transaction was complete. Surely the gang will love it!

[roosteraloha]

in sickness

jake seresin x reader

wc - 3k

warnings - talks of poor mental health, not looking after yourself, chronic pain discussions, a lot of angst but also a lot of fluff !!

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

a/n - I hope this fic can provide you a bit comfort, whether you experience chronic pain or not!! life is terrible right now and this is my little bit of comfort while I get through this flare up. pls always take care of yourselves <3

comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

You had been feeling off for a while. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when this feeling started, it just did. And it sucked. Usually a bright and hard working individual, you now felt more like a shell of who you used to be - more than you ever had before.

With no family around, this was the year you’d truly be alone for the holiday season. A welcome change to the fake smile you’d plaster on, anything to avoid more for your family to pick you apart for. Anything to avoid being seen as the family failure even more.

Working part time as a barista while you continued your studies at a new campus, began merely as a way to pay rent and pay the remaining tuition, which failed to be covered by your scholarships. Now, your work was a chance to escape both from your family issues and your school work, a chance to just be.

A few months into living in San Diego, you’d developed a much needed routine; classes in the day, serving regulars at the little café, then studying more when you got home.

There was one regular at the café that always made your smile a bit brighter, a real smile, rather than the fake customer service one that you had perfected.

A tall, blonde aviator.

He arrived like clockwork every single day, ordered the same drink and pastry each day, and something you noticed the longer you worked there, only gave his signature wink and drawl of “Thanks darlin’” to you. A fact that gave you a flutter of butterflies each time he walked through the door.

It had taken you a few months to work up the courage to accept his invitation of a date, ironically he insisted on just going for a coffee (or any drink you'd prefer, as he insisted), which then progressed to him regularly joining you at the café on your late shifts. Jake was the absolute definition of a gentleman, opening and holding doors for you, insisting on walking you home, saying “I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you got home safe darlin’”.

It made your heart flutter to have the attention of such a man. You’d imagined that this type of love would only ever exist in cheesy romance books, but Jake exceeded even those standards and expectations.

Having Jake in your life was a blessing. One that you would never take for granted. Even on your bad days.

It wasn’t that you were intentionally ignoring Jake, it was more the fact that you instinctively knew that as soon as you let him get a proper answer from you, he’d instantly know something was wrong and immediately try and fix it. Something your younger self would crave, but now, you couldn’t find it in you to care. Going from class to class, then to work, picking up extra shifts just to occupy your mind, leaving earlier and earlier, coming home later and later.

It was a good thing you lived alone and hadn’t caved to Jake’s repeated attempts to get you to move in with him, which realistically would be the best idea both for your commute and your relationship, not to mention that you slept over at his place almost daily. However, this flare up of poor moods and anxiety, was clouding your logical view, and you refused each and every plea from your loving boyfriend. You knew he was only looking out for you, but you couldn’t help the irritation that prickled up stronger with each invitation. The insinuation that you couldn’t look after yourself, that you needed someone to take care of you. A snappy comment lodged in your throat, but finding yourself too detached to even voice it.

Living alone provided you with the much needed sanctuary where you could just be. Somewhere you didn’t need to worry about someone seeing just how badly you were suffering on a day to day basis. You knew deep down, that living with Jake would better for you both, but you had particularly stubborn streak that had developed from the constant dismissal of your feeling from your family. Jake, you knew would never be like them, he was far too observant to not notice, and far too caring to let you suffer alone.

It wasn’t until Jake cornered you on your mandatory day off that he finally found the perfect opportunity to get to the bottom of your sudden emotional polarity. He’d cleared the leave with Cyclone, citing a hurried mention of a ‘family emergency’, which to Jake this was, and consequently receiving the next week off without any further explanation.

Knowing your penchant for burying any negative feelings, and faking your way through your days off which aligned with his in the past, Jake followed his normal morning routine. An early wake up call, one which to his growing concern, you were seemingly awake before, a bland breakfast of toast and coffee, then heading to his truck, backing out his truck, then instead of the usual commute to base, Jake parked at the end of the street and waited an hour before heading back.

Jake was greeted by a silent home. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that there was nobody home, but your keys were still by the door, your shoes messily stacked by the coat hooks, everything in the exact place as when he left.

Frowning, he makes his way through the house, scanning every room for any signs that you had moved from your curled position on the bed, the one you hadn’t moved from since you got home the night before.

There was a small crack in the paint of Jake’s bedroom wall.

A minute crack really.

Just to the right of the bedroom door, creeping up from the baseboards. Barely noticeable to anyone else, but you have been so fixated on it, unable to tear your gaze away from it. A quick lick of paint, even one of those tester rollers that Jake kept in his toolbox would do it. But yet again, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

Huffing at nothing in particular, you blink slowly, your eyes drying out from your blank, unwavering stare, the blood vessels shot around your irises, irritated more with each blink.

Jake slowly pushes the bedroom door open, having paused to watch your empty stare, growing more concerned with each passing minute. On your best days, you weren’t known to be the most bubbly and social person, but still made the effort anyway. Now? Now Jake was halfway to calling in reinforcements, in whatever way he could to try and get through to you, even if you hated him afterwards.

His slow pace to your side was an effort to not startle you, he needn’t have worried, you didn’t even flinch, like you normally did, when he pressed a gentle kiss to your exposed shoulder.

Having come from a very complex family, with a concerning lack of physical contact, you often found yourself flinching away from people, getting overwhelmed when people refused to give you space, getting frustrated with your feelings, unable to communicate your desires and needs for physical interaction, romantic or platonic. It was something that Jake had easily picked up on, quickly learning your tells, learning exactly what you craved, without you having to explicitly say anything at all.

Sighing, Jake decided to take a risk, you have been known to lash out in the past, whenever you haven’t been warned about incoming physical contact. Exhaling slowly, praying to whatever he could, Jake slid his hand gently up your arm, getting you used to his touch before pulling you up into a sitting position, crouching before you, directly in your eye line.

Jake nudged you gently, trying to get a response from you. startling from the movement, your gaze darts from the paint crack to Jake’s hand on your knee. Goosebumps erupt across your arms as you focus on the sensation of his large, warm hand on your skin. Feeling your muscles tense under his hand, he rubs his thumb in soothing circles, trying to placate your instinct to flinch away.

Breath hitching in your throat, you instinctively jolt backwards, away from Jake. He exhales loudly, disappointed and slightly hurt that you still have this reaction to him after all this time. Jake has always been the perfect boyfriend, always there to be supportive, even when you often feel that you don’t deserve it.

Having zoned back into reality, you refuse to make eye contact with Jake, instead keeping him in your periphery as you cautiously shuffle back towards him. Jake raises an eyebrow at the sudden change, it was highly unusual for you to even try and instigate physical proximity, where this would normally be a good thing, today, it added to his growing concern that you were not okay. Far from it.

Jake tried and failed to catch your eye line, eyes darting away from him with each attempt. Deciding on a different approach, Jake knelt from his crouched position, “Darlin’ when was the last time you ate?” A halfhearted shrug was the only response, while an improvement, Jake’s heart ached knowing you needed his help and support desperately, but knew you were too nervous and stubborn to ask on a good day, that today he stood no chance of getting a response from you.

Feeling a wave of confidence, you flicked your eyes over to Jake, scanning his features, taking in his clear concern and worry about you. Heart pounding in your chest, you anxiously clench your hand tightly into a fist a few times, before slowly reaching your hand out to Jake, quickly retracting it as you begin to overthink it.

Brows furrowed, Jake moves to sit beside you, leaving a space between you, softly smiling in encouragement as your eyes follow his movements and then slowly turn your body to face him.

“What do you need from me right now?” His voice quiet, yet steady and comforting. Another weak shrug. Registering the increasing frustration in Jake’s expression, you shakily reach out for his hand, intertwining your fingers and taking in all the calluses and faint scars on his hand, finding the simple contact immediately calming, feeling bold enough to express your want.

A gentle tug on his hand, your hand slowing moving up his arm, then round his waist, climbing slowing and shakily into his lap, curling up his strong embrace, nuzzling your head into his chest. Jake stayed still in disbelief, this was everything he dreamed you’d one day be comfortable to ask for, never mind instigate of your own will. Smiling to himself in pride, he readjusts his position on the edge of his bed, a soothing hand in your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp, something that Jake had noticed eaisly helped you relax. After a few moments your muscles slowly began to relax and eyes growing heavy.

The rapid succession of sneezes and soft whimpers that Jake woke to in the afternoon, alerted him to the root cause of your recent lack of responsiveness. A soft grumble was followed by you curling back into Jake’s side, nuzzling into his warmth, finding comfort from him wherever you could.

In the entire span of your relationship, Jake can only recall you being sick a handful of times. Perhaps something to do with your insistence of maintaining your personal space Jake has always thought, but you sick was an experience, one that Jake hated. Thinking back over the past few weeks, the warning signs that you were getting sick, were now glaringly obvious and Jake was mentally kicking himself for not paying close enough attention.

Gathering the various medicines from his bathroom, ones that he had previously taken note of that seemed to help ease your symptoms the best. Jake sets the various bottles and packets on the bedside table, picking one at random to try and convince you to take.

Narrowing your bloodshot eyes at Jake, you shake your head vehemently, an action you quickly regret. Clutching at your head in agony, you whimper quietly, shifting back towards Jake, burying your head in the crook of his neck and clinging to him like a lifeline.

Gently coaxing you out from your comfortable position, Jake’s heart broke knowing he’s asking you to do the opposite of everything you’d been working on together. Eyes glassy with unshed tears, you try to cling to the comfort of his embrace, confused as to why Jake was forcing you away from him. Unable to think logically in your pained state, you took this as a rejection, promptly turning away from Jake, putting as much distance between you both as his king sized bed allowed.

A pill is placed firmly in your hand, a chance to take it yourself, one you instantly refused, tossing the pill over your shoulder, hopefully somewhere in Jake’s direction, you couldn’t really find it in you to care.

A startled yelp leaves your lips as you’re manhandled by Jake, your back now resting against his chest, a firm arm across your waist, keeping you close in his hold. You were too weak to fight him anyway, but Jake took the precaution anyway.

He knows you.

Much to your chagrin, another pill is placed in the palm of your hand. Craning your neck to see Jake’s motives, you’re annoyed to see a blank expression, all he does is gesture to the pill in your hand, and look away from you completely.

Having suffered from chronic pain for years, you despise each pill you have to take, from many years of doctors just giving you pill after pill without listening to your concerns. Now you find yourself avoiding doctors, or any medication wherever you can. Jake knew this, it was something discussed early on in your relationship, not wanting him to feel ignored when you inevitably had a flare up and consequently spent the next week or two in bed recovering, which is why you feel so hurt when he keeps insisting on you taking this medication.

When your equally blank stare at Jake goes on too long, he sighs heavily, pulling you back with him as he leans back against the headboard. Feeling the rumble of his low voice behind you had a surprisingly soothing effect, “Darlin’. Please just let me take care of you.”

When that didn’t produce a response, “C’mon darlin’, it’s breaking my heart to see you in so much pain.”

Turning in his hold, cupping his cheek with your hand momentarily, causing him to flinch at how cold you felt, slowly sitting, reaching for the pill and quickly swallowing the bitterness with the glass of water that jake insisted you keep by the bed whenever you’d stay over. Several kisses are pressed across your hairline and forehead, soft mumblings of praise continue as you settle back in his arms.

“I know how much you hate taking them, but you have to in order to get better darlin’.” Scoffing in disapproval, and resentment of your boyfriend yet again being right, results in Jake wrapping his arms even tighter around you, careful of any known sensitive areas, pressing more gentle kisses to the top of your head.

“Before you get too comfortable, we’ve got to get you something to eat. God knows when you last ate a proper meal.”

You swallowed cautiously, “That time you cooked your grandmother’s recipe.”

Silence.

You felt him tense behind you, sitting up straighter, gentle fingers at your chin in an effort for you to look at him.

“Sweetheart… That was almost a week ago.”

Shrugging, you try a nonchalant approach, knowing Jake would not like the answer, “I eat stuff at the café and in between classes when I can. I just don’t have time to cook a full meal anymore Jake.”

Exasperated, Jake pulls you to stand, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, then taking your hand gently and leading downstairs to the kitchen. He busies himself, after seating you on the counter, checking cupboards and the fridge to see what he could pull together for you both. Settling on something basic, he gets to cooking, something he enjoys. Not that Jake liked to openly share this with his fellow aviators, in case of any ribbing and teasing, yet another reason he had been overly cautious as to not introduce you to the group already.

The delectable scents wafting in your direction results in several rumbles from your stomach, a light blush stains your cheeks when Jake glanced in your direction with a teasing smile. Shrugging playfully in response brings a bright grin to Jake’s face, the one that always has you smiling along with him, because how could you be sad when he looked at you like that, with that much love in his eyes just for you?

One lovingly home cooked meal later, you’re yet again tucked into Jake’s side in his bed, considerably more relaxed than when Jake left in the morning. With the self-reflection that you’d both started to keep your relationship healthy, you knew you weren’t the best at looking after yourself, which only got worse during a flare up or sickness. Jake however, was your constant. A strong caring and protective streak, you would never suffer alone again.

“I missed this. I missed you. Can we stay like this for just a bit longer?” You murmur quietly into his chest, arms tightening around his waist.

“Of course darlin’,” Jake places a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

“You don’t even need to ask.”

While there were some days that you felt so isolated and a burden, those days were notably fewer now that you had Jake in your life.

You just didn’t know that Jake vowed from the day you confessed your struggles that he would always be there to look after you.

In sickness and in health.

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[halfwayhearted]

Tattoo — Marc Bernal.

Pairing: Marc Bernal x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were completely sure that you could be forever content in his embrace alone—he tells you he feels the same.

Word Count: 485+

Disclaimer/s — Just a little rushed, I had this idea in my mind when scrolling through my notes app and saw I had written ‘Marc Bernal Tattoo’ like ooohr, right, then quickly got to work!

A/N: I haven’t wrote for Marc in a hooooooot minute, hi. Heh.

Did you feel selfish? Well, yes! Did you care? No…

The reasoning for that conclusion being that he didn’t say anything to make you want to pull away. He came over, you let him in, and now here you both were, lying down with a movie playing.

Neither of you made any movement in the past half hour he’s been here. You guided him into your bedroom, got comfortable, and playfully opened your arms, laughing when he wordlessly obliged. He slid under the covers—after changing into a pair of pajamas—and his warmth enveloped you.

It wasn’t until the movie came to an end that you muttered, “I could stay like this forever, I think.”

Marc chuckles against you. “That’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” You counter. “Of course, you’d be pragmatic.” Your hand slides behind him, fingers running through his hair. “…you don’t want to?”

“Want to what? Stay like this forever?” He asks.

Letting out a soft hum, he tilts his head back to look at you, his lips twitching into a smile. “Yeah, actually, I would. We could watch lots of movies.”

“A mix of what we both like—well, like, action, romance, comedy... the possibilities are endless!”

The boy offers another chuckle. “They are. But we both know we can’t actually stay like this forever.”

This conversation was reaching its conclusion. You were simply tired, rambling on about whatever came to mind, already knowing that you couldn’t stay in each other’s embrace forever.

It didn’t mean you couldn’t bring it up anyway.

“We’d be like,” you trail off. “Like, oh! A tattoo!”

You see his brows raise. “I already have a tattoo.”

He did. Rolling your eyes, your voice drops to a whisper. “I’m aware, you idiot. Not what I meant.”

Ah. The realization dawns on him quickly, and his smile widens. “Oh, I understand it now. That was a good comparison, do you know that?” He utters, and you let a proud smile grace your lips. “Tattoos are permanent—change your mind yet?”

Your eyes flicker over his features, your gaze softening as you reply, “Permanent doesn’t seem all that bad now that I think about it.” Cheesy.

“That’s the sleep talking, let’s go to bed,” he says.

It was, but not really. “What, you don’t think so?”

“Hey, I never said that. I’d like to consider you my tattoo,” he pauses. “That didn’t sound right. You get what I mean though, right? Or was it stupid.”

A soft laugh bubbles out of you as you plop your head back down onto the bed. “Now who’s letting the sleep talk, huh? No, not stupid, I get what you’re saying. I also think you’re right, let’s sleep.”

“Good idea,” Marc mutters, eyes fluttering shut.

In all honesty, ‘permanent’ doesn’t sound as bad as everyone makes it out to be. He’s your tattoo as much as you are his. That much can be proven.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedriache + @spidybaby + @levidazai + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[tomwaterbabies]

another thing i like about the take that hugo doesn't know wtf a romance is and is genuinely a ball of nerves when it comes to intimacy and affection, is that comparing varian's whole situation to this is funny and interesting. like. varian isn't exactly experienced either. in fact he's pretty bad at this. he's cheesy in a really dorky way, he's forward and doesn't have the best filter (again, look at how a little childhood crush was like, let alone Actually falling in love). you look at varian and it's like... yeah how are you gonna manage Romance. and then there's hugo. varian is bad, but he at least isn't at hugo's nuclear levels of emotional repression. so it's always effective on hugo, because hugo is even worse with this stuff (somehow). it's also effective bc he loves him very much. obviously

[jjjjeonww]

zhong chenle - "pickup lines"

genre - angsty romance. word count - 903 ~~in which chenle wins you back, with his manipulation tactics and pickup lines. to: @chenlezip. "anna my love <3 i'll hunt your ex down to the ends of the earth and i'll make sure to bring an umbrella with me everywhere so that if i find him i can shove it up his fucking ass and open it!!" with love, jjjjeonww.

friday, 1:27pm: you were outside, sitting in a cafe, taking care of some work before giving yourself some downtime after a long week. meanwhile chenle was bored. he scrolled on his phone, watching videos both sad and funny to try and get his mind off you. was life this boring without having someone under his control? and so, he couldn't resist sending you a cheesy pick-up line. seriously, who did this guy think he was? why would you even bother responding to him? he's your ex for a reason. ignore his message and let him suffer the consequences.

saturday, 11:43am. why does he keep texting you? can't he just leave you alone? you wouldn't want to be responding to him after what he's done right? but, you also remembered the conversation you both had shared. ...flashback: you were lounging on the couch, chenle's arms wrapped around you. you were reading a book, a shitty romance book about how the main character, lewis had cheated on his girlfriend, rebecca, with another girl. in that moment you were focused on the book, completely unaware that in a few months time, lewis would be chenle, and you'd be rebecca. out of the blue, chenle whispered, "whoever says that 'disneyland is the happiest place to be' has obviously never been by your side." his breath on your neck with each syllable. you hit his arm playfully in fake annoyance, "you're so bad at pickup lines!"

sunday, 5:53pm. you couldn't handle the way your phone would buzz or light up at the most random times. it wasn't from your friends, or family, or even classmates. it was from chenle the great. did leaving him on read each time he texted not enough for him to take the hint? he'd put a spell on you, one where he exuded his charm, one where he somehow had you head over heels for him in just a snap. it was your turn to put the spell on him, the spell of 'not replying.' or just replying dryly.

monday, 3:25pm. chenle's job: send you pick up lines on a daily basis. chenle's former job: not to 'happily' form another relationship while still being with you. damn zhong chenle for being so loveable. and damn you for still loving him.

tuesday, 8:09pm. no. why did you reply to him? why? to get manipulated once again? to let chenle deceive you? why DIDN'T you block him? do you... still love him? chenle's jobs: break you into pieces (ticked!) chenle's NEW jobs: mold you into what he wants. flashback: the day you found out about chenle and his other chick, you were horrified. you had loved him for so long, and you still love him, and you were convinced that he loved you back. you were at home, waiting for chenle to come back so you could eat the freshly-cooked dinner you had made. instead you get a text from your friend, jaewon, saying that she had just seen chenle and another girl in the restaurant she worked in, and a picture sent. it really was chenle with another girl, and his neck was full of lipstick marks. not yours, but that girl's. you didn't know what to do, so you took all of your belongings from chenle's place and went to yours. you ignored all of his calls and texts, thinking that your heart would heal faster. and when he showed up at your doorstep, you ignored him. even when it was raining heavily. you felt guilty. yes you did, to make him wait outside for an hour, to make him look like an idiot, which he was, obviously you would feel guilty. unfortunately, this was karma served cold. but you did infact, run away from the problem.

but what else could you do? its zhong chenle. you'll always be head over heels for him. and you'll always be the pawn of his deception game.

[coco-sensei]

hey hi! Can you do yandere France x loving girlfailure reader. Like reader trys to do romantic things but ends up fucking it up somehow, and straight up questions why Francis is even into them but loves him nonetheless. Extra fluff plz. Thanks! ^o^

France x loving girlfailure fem!reader

Warnings: so sweet will give you cavities, suggestive if you get a microscope (NOT NSFW) fluff!

You and Francis have been together for about 2 years now

He's always been the romantic romantic one in the relationship

You really love your boyfriend and want to reciprocate those feeling

You wanted to be romantic to

So you had a reservation planned

Unfortunately when you both came to the restaurant

The man said you missed your reservation that was yesterday

You checked you email and sure enough you had a booked a reservation for the wrong date

(Rip the money 😔✊)

This time you refused to let another date go wrong.

So you decided to set up a romantic picnic date in there park

It was lovely you both where giggling

And as you were about to kiss

KABOOM

A thunderstorm…

You boy had to ditch everything to get home safely

That weather bit— man what wrong about the weather.

So you thought of an unstoppable date idea.

You thought why not just stay at your apartment

And have a small at home date

It's not much but it will do

You thought of what to watch while you two where together

You thought of ______ but then you thought Francis wouldn't be the type to watch that

So you decided to put on the cheesy romance movie

The movie wasn't supposed the be the main focus anyways

You decided to make him some French cuisine

He came while you wherein the middle of cooking

While you where chatting

For some unknown reason

The food had caught on fire

….

Yeah Francis had to put out the fire while you where panicking

After failing another date you seriously started to think maybe

You're the problem

Whenever Francis does dates

Nothing goes wrong

But when you do it you fuck up

Maybe it's bad luck!

YOUR bad luck

Maybe you don't really deserve Francis

But you really do love him

When you first met him you thought he'd never really like you

But he's been nothing but loving to you

You seriously start doubting yourself,

What the fuck does Francis even see in you

You don't go outside much

You've never had a boyfriend other than Francis

Because of that you do know how to be romantic

And when you try you always fail

You'd always been alone

You use to be the quiet kid at the back

You only ever had only a few friends…

And they were all your family members…

You're pretty much a loser

You have terrible social skills

You use to spend all your time day dreaming because you didn't have any friends at work

You only ever went outside to got to work or grocery shopping

You had no social life

Francis taste in woman can't be that bad to like you!

You where having the whole episode while kneeling down looking oven fire that Francis had put out

Francis looked at you and realised that you uhh

Where on the verge of tears

You felt hands gently lift you up

Your boyfriend had you in his hands bridal style

He kissed you gently

“i appreciate it Mon chéri ”

And he'll kiss you on the check really close to your mouth

He'd do the cooking now

It's ok if you're not as romantic as him

You love Francis and he knows that

More Random Hc

If you enjoy visual novels he'll watch you play from time to time

If it's a romance game

He'll be like

“I'm way better than does pixels on the screen”

And gets all jealous

Francis is not very good with computers

So if you're gaming he'll just watch

But if it's animal crossing I think he'd play with you time to time

If you're still playing those videos games

He'll show you things those pixels certainly can't do

😉😉😉

I think you'd both have a Paris theme island in animal crossing

What? He wants to feel at home

He'd probably kick out all the “ugly” villagers

If he sees you making an “ugly” room he'd be like

“Mon chéri what is this!?” and will destroy it somehow

If you're not the type to socialise he'd stay at home with you

If you're a weeb… he'll have to ask Kiku for help

Francis certainly isn't used to your life style but he'll try to adapt

Definitely tries to get you out more

He'd bring you along with he's friends and calls the girls over so you can have friends of your own

Overall

10/10 awesome bf experience

Hi! Sorry I got to you so late! I've got this wedding I have to attend that's far so I'm packing up.

Thanks so much for the request! I had so much fun writing this!

I kinda made this a One-shots/HC because I didn't know specifically what you wanted...

—Coco Rori 🎐🫧