#does she know i think of her every single day?

[gtgbabie0]

₊˚⊹♡ Valentines Day Headcannons ♡⊹˚₊

જ⁀➴ ♡ Starring: Vi.ᐟ Caitlyn.ᐟ Sevika.ᐟ જ⁀➴ ♡ !!-18//MDNI-!!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡ ♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

•Sevikaજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Oh she’s a sweetheart, really, but the poor woman is overworked and the day slipped her mind until Shoola makes some off-handed comment at work— then she’s absolutely cursing herself.

❤︎ She gets home late afternoon, flowers bundled up in her hands and an apology sitting on her tongue— her shoulders dropping at the sight of you bundled up on the sofa.

“Angel, I’m so fucking sorry.” Her voice is all soft and dejected as she sits down right beside you, a big hand resting over your knee. “You know work just keeps on pilling up, I didn’t even notice the—”

You immediately dismantle her, fingers curling around hers with a gentle smile and tender eyes, gleaming up at her with a sickly sweet love. “S’alright Sev, you’ll make it up to me.” And god she swears she will.

❤︎ And she really does! Cooking you up that one homemade meal you’re always bugging her to make since the first time she made it for you. A nice candle-lit dinner, popping open a bottle of your fave, showering you with sweet compliments and tender touches— her hand rubbing your thigh from beneath the table.

❤︎ In fact her hands don’t leave the soft curvature of your perfect body for a single moment, guiding you into your shared bedroom— kissing along your jaw and down your neck, a sincere apology hidden in the way she sheds your clothes from your body.

❤︎ She had you spread open for her on the bed, mechanical hand squeezing the inside of your thigh— the cold metal against your flushed skin shoots a shiver through your body, one that was only doubled as she pushes the vibrator a little harder to your clit.

“That’s it, baby, keeping making those pretty noises f’me yeah?” Her voice was all gruff and ragged, watching in almost awe as rubs the toy over your sensitive bud so painstakingly slow, you can’t help but buck your hips up in desperation, needing more.

“Mmfm, p-please Vika! please.” You whine, hands fisting at the bedsheets when she turns it up to a setting that makes your thighs shake as the vibrations intensify, your cunt soaking the toy as she rubs it through your slick folds.

“Please?— please what baby? I ain’t a mind reader.” She absolutely lives for the way you arch up from the bed, looking up at her with glossy eyes.

❤︎ Sevika likes to take her time, pushing you right to the edge before bringing the vibrator away with a small smirk, scoffing a chuckle as your whines get louder and somehow, even more, needier from the way she rubs the slick toy over your pert nipples. Immediately leaning into your tits to lick and kiss at your glistening peaks murmuring about how “fucking good” you taste, her hand caressing over your waist and ribcage.

“Soaked for me huh?” She notes, smirking against your nipple as you blabber on about how much you need her until she dips her hand between your thighs to push her ring and middle fingers inside of your cunt, slick walls clamping around her thick digits— then you’re all broken moans and breathless gasps. “There you go, fucking swallowing my fingers up, huh? Greedy girl.”

Her eyes drink in every inch of your body as she sits back, her mechanical hand bringing the vibrator back to your clit as she curls her fingers deep inside you, fucking you until you’re seeing stars and some more.

❤︎ Sevika does good in making it up to you— spoiling you with a bubble bath, making sure to fold your favourite pyjama set over the radiator so they’re nice and warm for when you get out— fresh bedsheets and your favourite candle. She’d dote on you all weekend too because, at the end of the day, she really thinks you deserve the best.

•Caitlynજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Nothing can ever be just ‘casual’ with Caitlyn, it’s a whole day thing for her. From the moment you open those pretty eyes, she’s completely at your beck and call.

❤︎ She would wake you up with sweet whispered nothings murmured against your jaw, kissing along your bare shoulders and over the nape of your neck— fingers slowly grazing down your spine in a gentle attempt to coax you out of dreamland.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my dearest.” her smooth velvety accent sends a slight shiver down your spine, humming in contentment.

You find her tender gaze as you turn to look up at her, all sleepy smiles and bleary eyes— her hand coming to rest against your warm cheek, tracing over the pillow lines that were printed into the soft skin. “Mm, happy Valentine’s Day love.” You respond, letting your eyes flutter close once more as she presses a kiss to your temple.

❤︎ She would have breakfast all ready, a platter of sweet fresh fruit and other various toppings for the heart-shaped waffles— she really does go all out and it was so worth it to see how your eyes twinkle in awe, the way your smile widens and the giggles that escape your lips.

❤︎ Caitlyn might have also splurged a little on you, okay maybe more than a little. A pretty dress that fitted your gorgeous frame oh so beautifully, adorning jewellery that made your complexion shine even more so than usual and a rather raunchy lingerie set that she couldn’t wait to take off, all folded in a gift bag just for you to wear tonight at dinner.

❤︎ A private booth in a fancy restaurant, gave her the perfect opportunity to tease you and she did— all night long, whispering filthy things into your ear. By the time the pair of you had climbed into the limousine, your panties were soaked and well Caitlyn really couldn’t help but slip her hand between your thighs, underneath your dress to rub her fingertips over the little damp spot.

“Mm, Cait—” you gasp, trying to keep as quiet as possible, not wanting the driver behind the partition to hear but it was so difficult when she hooks her middle finger over your lacy panties, the same pretty pair she gifted you with this morning, pushing them to the side slowly.

You hide your face against her shoulder, whimpering as she slides her fingertip along your slick folds, circling your clit with a feather-light touch— not giving you want you so desperately need which only makes you whine some more, hips bucking. “Sshh, you’re such a needy little thing, already so wet just from some words?” Her tone was almost condescending.

❤︎ A mess of shoes and clothes trail behind the pair of you, leading to your shared bedroom. Caitlyn didn’t have much patience, not when she was this turned on— needing to get her hands on you.

❤︎ Once she had you right where she wanted she couldn't stop. With you spread open for her in front of the mirror, her fingers teasing over your clit— wanting to make you cum again because gosh she couldn’t get enough.

“Look, baby, look how well your pretty pussy takes my fingers.” She coos, pressing a kiss to your jaw as you sit in between her legs— thighs draped over hers in front of the mirror as she slowly thrusts her two fingers into your fluttering hole. “Will you give me another, hmm?”

You let out a small whine, tipping your head backwards against her shoulder— her free hand instantly cupping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together slightly, to make you face the mirror, admiring the way the pair of you fit together so perfectly. “Ah, Cait— Yeah, yeah, I can.” You whimper, watching how her fingers disappear inside you.

“Oh, such a good girl for me.” She hums in agreement, chuckling lowly as she curls her slender fingers perfectly— hitting that spongy spot deep inside you that makes your hips buck up against her hand, grinding your clit against the heel of her palm and whimpering for more. “That’s it’s, make a mess all over my hand— fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Caitlyn watches the reflection in awe, how your hips rock against her hand in tandem with her fingers in reckless abandon, chasing after that relief until you're gushing all over her digits, soaking the silk bedsheets whilst she coos praises into the bare skin of your shoulder.

❤︎ She didn’t stop there, spending the rest of the evening drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you until you were boneless against the pillows, hair all tussled and completely flushed and panting. A beautiful sight.

❤︎ Caitlyn would shower you with praise, whispering sweet nothings into your sticky skin— nosing at your jaw and kissing all over your pretty face, keeping you grounded whilst she cleaned you up with such gentle hands before getting you a nice, cold glass of water and whatever else you needed. The rest of the night she spent cuddling you, with your head tucked beneath her chin, playing with your hair.

•Violetજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Violet tries so hard to be all nonchalant about it, trying to act like she didn't know what was coming up but can’t— she fails horribly. Waking up at the crack of dawn to decorate the living room with heart-shaped bunting and balloons, giggling to herself whilst you slept peacefully upstairs in your shared bed.

❤︎ It was the waiting that she couldn’t deal with, pacing around the living room completely restless— every tiny noise that came from upstairs had her gasping softly in anticipation.

Violet's eyes lighten up as you walk into the living room, one of her shirts hanging around your shoulders, hair all tussled and eyes oh so sleepy— you giggle softly in surprise, looking around the decorated living room, ‘awwing’ softly as you spot a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase and a small box of your favourite chocolates. “There’s my girl, c’mere.” She chuckles, holding her arms out for you.

“When did you do this?” You ask all giddily, walking over to your equally excited girlfriend who all but tugs you closer to her— toned arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“This morning, whilst you were snoozing.” She replies, words muffled against your hairline as she peppers your face with loving kisses, hands moving to cup your face, thumbs caressing your warm cheeks as you nuzzle into her palms with a content hum.

Your arms circle around her shoulders, holding her close as she watches your gaze flicker around the room once more— she lives for the way your eyes go all starry, the smile that was plastered across your pretty face. “Aw, you did really good.” You really just melt her heart completely, she hugs you tightly against her once more, showering you with affection as you both share murmured— “Happy Valentine’s Day.” and other sweet nothings.

❤︎ Vi would spend the morning doting on you, the full princess treatment because her girl really deserves only the best!— she’d treat you to whatever you wanted from the bakery just down the road for breakfast, showering together and doing your skincare routine for you.

❤︎ The pair of you would take the dog out for a nice walk around the local park before stopping at the shop, grabbing a few things for dinner and a couple of snacks along with pre-made brownie mix to bake later— which the pair of you somehow make a complete mess of but it was all apart of the fun!

❤︎ The whole day would be so relaxing— full of nothing but absolute love, your heart feeling so full as the evening rolls around. The pair of you snuggled up in bed as she kisses you ever so sweetly. The movie you had put on now long forgotten, the remote kicked off of the bed and somewhere on the floor as those kisses turned a lot more heated and greedy.

“Mm, need something baby?” Vi asks in between kisses, smirking against your lips as you grind your hips down against her— desperate for more of her, fingers grasping at her broad shoulders.

Oh, she’s so cocky. Chuckling against the soft curve of your jaw as she dips her hand into your pyjama bottoms, cupping your cunt through your underwear— the apparent wet spot giving you all away. “I want your— your strap, please.” You whisper shyly, pressing your face into her shoulder with a weak moan.

Your reply only inflates her ego, rubbing her fingers over your underwear— her other hand caressing over the curve of your waist and up to your hip. “Yeah? Don’t be shy baby, s’just me.” She coos, turning her head to press a kiss to your cheek, whispering a gentle, “Come on, tell me what you really want, hmm?” Lips grazing against the shell of your ear.

You whine, trying to grind down against her palm as you press your face further into the crook of her neck— groaning in both frustration and desire. “Want to ride your strap so badly, Vi— need you to fill me up, please.” You practically plead, and that was all Vi needed to hear.

❤︎ She never really had much patience, it was practically nonexistent when it came to you— especially when she craved you as bad as she does right now because god your body was a piece of damn art.

“You’re so beautiful, baby— keep moving, just like that.” Vi was practically drooling, her half-lidded eyes zeroing in on the way her strap disappears into your cunt with ease, the silicone toy glistening with your slick— hips grinding against her so clumsily, so desperately.

Her fingers dig into the fat on your hips for leverage, almost manhandling you into a slower pace so you could feel each mind-numbing drag of her cock along your gummy walls, drawing out those sweet broken cries from your parted lips— jaw all slack and eyes hooded. “F-Fuck Vi— feels so good!” You whimper, nails biting into her shoulder which all but shoots a shiver down her spine, making her arch her strap deeper up into you.

She swears to god she could feel you squeeze around her, physically impossible but right now, god, she’s certain— “Yeah? Taking it so deep angel, feel me right here, huh?” She coos, pressing her hand over your lower abdomen— her other sliding from your waist up to your tits as you continue to bounce her strap— thighs beginning to burn in such a good way.

You nod, blabbering on and on in agreement— a bunch of nonsensical moans that sound far too good slipping past your lips— so needy for her as your movements become all sloppy, your hand desperately pushing on hers until her fingers find your clit. “There you go baby, fuuuck look at you— cumming around my cock.” She watches in complete awe as you lose yourself in the feeling, bouncing on her strap until you’re gushing around the thickness— soaking her thighs.

❤︎ Vi would prepare a bath that would end in round two because she really couldn’t keep her greedy hands to herself— not that you had a single complaint when her fingers were stuffed inside you, thumb slowly rubbing against your clit, the warmth of the bubble bath enveloping you. It was all too good.

❤︎ You end the day all cuddled up in bed, matching pjs and clean bedding— her big, warm hands massaging your achy thighs as she lavishes your pretty face with tender kisses, telling you how much she loved you until the pair of you end up falling asleep halfway through a movie, limbs all tangled beneath the blankets.

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[shockercoco]

Better Late Than Never

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings - fluff, some kissing, Valentine’s Day shenanigans, flirty!Bucky

Word count - 2167

a/n - Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, especially to all my fellow single readers! I’ve somehow ended up in my Sebastian Stan era again, so I thought why fight it. It’s been a while since I’ve written an imagine, and I’m feeling a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)

“What’s got you smiling so much?” You ask Wanda as she sits down across from you.

It was Wanda’s idea to meet up for lunch after finding out about the rough morning you had, and she had also told you that she had some good news to share that might cheer you up. 

You had woken up late for work, couldn’t find your car keys, and when you reached the halfway point on your journey to work, you realized you didn’t have your phone. Today just wasn’t your day.

“Remember how I said I had some good news?” Wanda asks, her smile huge as she leans in and rests her elbows on the table. When you nod, she continues. “Well, Vision surprised me at work and finally asked me to be his girlfriend! He brought me flowers and everything.”

Yeah, today just really wasn’t your day.

“That’s really great, Wanda, but how exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?” you question, giving her a small smile to soften your words.

“Because you were the one who suggested that I should confess my feelings to him, and you’ve pretty much been with me every step of the way,” Wanda tells you. Her expression then turns into confusion. “Is something wrong?”

You honestly were really proud and happy for Wanda, and if this were any other time of the year, your reaction would’ve been different. But it’s not. Valentine's Day is at the end of the week and you just want the week to be over with.

While you were walking down the street on your way to the restaurant, you walked past a woman getting proposed to in the park. While you were waiting for the light to change in order for you to cross the street, you saw a couple making out. As you walked past a street vendor selling flowers, you overheard the vendor making conversation with a man who was apparently looking for the right flowers to buy his crush. Now, Wanda hits you with this.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you quickly shake your head. “I’ve just had a weird day.”

She looks at you for a moment longer, not fully believing you. “Hmm, there’s something else. Tell me.”

You let out a laugh. “Wanda, I’m fine. It just…it’s nothing really. I’m good.”

“It’s just what?” Wanda asks. When you hesitate again, she adds, “We’re not ordering until you tell me what’s up,” she smirks at you. 

A small groan leaves you, before you speak up, “It’s just that Bucky hasn’t asked me to be his valentine yet, and this is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. It stupid, I know. I shouldn’t even be upset.”

“No, it’s not stupid. Have you mentioned how you feel to him?”

“No, I didn’t think I had to since he’s always surprising me with gifts any other time of the year. I just figured this would just happen naturally, but nothing yet.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. After all, it’s still the beginning of the week. Who knows, he could just be waiting for the actual day to come,” Wanda says, and when you don’t say anything, she places a hand on top of yours and continues, “I’d honestly be surprised if Bucky does absolutely nothing for you. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with you.”

That makes you smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am, and when Valentine’s Day comes and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine, call me, I’ll hunt him down,” Wanda tells you right as a waitress walks up to the table to take your guys’ order. She catches the end of Wanda’s sentence and has a confused, yet amused look on her face. “Sorry, just relationship problems.”

The waitress laughs as she says, “Don’t worry I understand.”

Later that night when you're at Bucky’s place for a movie night the two of you had planned the week before, you can feel Bucky looking at you repeatedly while your eyes are still on the screen. You’re cuddled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you, but you still notice the constant shifting of his head.

You finally give in and look up at him. “Is there something on my face?” you ask him, your tone teasing.

Bucky’s confused with your question. “No, why?”

“Because you keep looking at me.”

“What, I can’t admire my own girlfriend anymore?”

“It feels more like staring than anything,” you tell him, and Bucky just laughs.

“Well, then I’m sorry,” Bucky apologizes as he places a hand on your cheek to lift your head up. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips, a smile still tugging on the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, he still keeps the distance between the two of you small as he looks into your eyes.

“Seriously, what is it?” you whine as you playfully shove him away from you, causing him to laugh. He knows how much you hate it when he does that. “Is there something bugging you?” you casually slide in the question, slightly hoping that he would use this time to ask you to be his valentine.

“No, there isn’t,” he laughs and pulls away, turning his attention back to the screen, but keeping his arm still wrapped around you. “I’m done, I promise.” 

He misses the slight drop in your expression, but you quickly fix your face before looking back at the tv as well.

As the week goes on, you try to focus on more important things, but as Friday continues to get closer, your hope continues to diminish. You and Bucky continue to text normally throughout the week, but when Thursday afternoon comes Bucky calls you to let you know that he’ll be going on a mission the next day. On Valentine’s Day.

“I’m sorry it’s such short notice, doll, but Steve needs me,” you hear Bucky softly tell you through the phone. You’re sitting on a chair in front of your window watching people pass by with Bucky on speaker.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I understand,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “How long will you be gone?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Bucky speaks, “A couple of weeks.”

Weeks? 

Your heart drops at his answer and you feel your throat start to tighten. You quickly mute yourself to clear the tears from your throat, before unmuting.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, noticing your delayed response. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s people out there that need you,” you speak up.

You catch sight of your neighbor’s boyfriend walking up to her house with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You momentarily forget you’re on the phone and unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh at the sight, catching Bucky’s attention.

“Listen, I can probably get out of it. I’m sure Steve doesn’t need me that bad, there’s a whole team of people that are available to help out.”

A sad laugh leaves you. “Bucky it’s fine, I promise. He’s your best friend and he specifically asked you because he wants you, so go.”

“If you insist,” you hear Bucky sigh “I know you’re upset, though, so I promise to make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

That makes you crack a smile. “Okay.”

When the next day rolls around, you take your time getting out of bed. Unfortunately, you had the day off today, which of course you would’ve been happy about under different circumstances. 

You decide to keep yourself busy and do some chores to pass time, but by the time you’re done cleaning every crevice and doing laundry, it’s only four in the afternoon.

At some point, Wanda calls to check up on you and asks if you wanted her and Vision to come over and have dinner with you. Vision was planning on cooking for just the two of them, but he told you he had no problem making more. Although the two of them both repeatedly insisted they didn’t mind making the drive to your place, you declined.

It felt wrong to intrude on a special night like tonight. 

After telling Wanda and Vision that you would just order in, the two of you finally end the call.

You weren’t currently that hungry so you decided to just order something later. You make yourself comfortable on the couch and decide to put on a tv show you’ve been wanting to watch. 

A couple episodes later, you finally start to get hungry, and right when you’re about to place an order, your doorbell rings. You shake your head thinking it was just Vision and Wanda coming to share their food, but as you look through the peephole to see Bucky standing outside holding a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed animal you had been wanting, your heart drops along with your jaw.

You look down at your outfit and contemplate quickly changing, but decide against it.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had to go on a mission?” you ask when you open the door.

“Surprise!” Bucky greets you with a bright smile. He leans in to give you a kiss, before whispering, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.”

Bucky can see that you’re still shocked and at a loss for words, so he just laughs as he pushes past you and makes his way inside. You close the door behind him and watch as he makes his way into the kitchen and lays the flowers on the counter along with the stuffed animal.

“As much as I’m happy that you’re here, why are you here?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you lean against the counter, your arms folded across your chest. 

Bucky sends you a smirk as he quickly puts the flowers in water before making his way over to you. He places his hands on your waist as closes the distance between you two.

“You didn’t really think that I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day together, did you?”

“I didn’t even think you remembered, I mean you haven’t said anything about it all week,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Wanda told me you were a little upset,” Bucky mentions and your eyes widen.

“What a traitor, she wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you say slightly embarrassed as you look off to the side. Then a thought hits you, and you look back at him. “Wait, did you just come here because of what Wanda told you?”

“No, I was already planning on coming here tonight.”

“But what about your mission?” you ask, still confused.

Bucky smiles. “There never was a mission, doll. I made it up because I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I would spend today with Steve instead of you?”

“...Well, he is your best friend.”

“That’s true,” Bucky nods, grabbing your hands in his and placing kisses on your knuckles, “but, you’re my best girl,” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, causing butterflies in your stomach and your face to heat up.

What were you upset about again?

A chuckle leaves Bucky as he watches you shyly smile as you look away.

“You could’ve at least said something this whole week,” you tell him.

“I know, I know,” he admits, “but I was trying to get everything together.”

“Get what together?” you ask.

Bucky stays silent for a moment as if trying to find the right words to say. Then he says, “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches as you stare back at him. “What?”

Maybe you inhaled too many chemicals while cleaning.

“I want you to move in with me,” Bucky repeats. “I know we’ve been dating for less than a year and I completely understand if this is too fast for you, but there’s plenty of room for you at my place and I would be much happier if I was able to have you next to me when I wake up every morning.”

Oh. 

You blink.

“You’re serious?” you ask, even though there's no indication on his face to tell you he’s lying. 

Bucky lets go of your hands to place his on either side of your face. “Completely. Like I said, you’re my best girl.” He watches a smile slowly form on your lips. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes,” you say, and Bucky’s grin grows wider, but you hold your hand up. “Don’t start smiling yet, I wasn’t finished.”

Bucky quickly fixes his face and tries to suppress his excitement. “Of course, continue.”

“I say yes, only if you agree to never pull anything like this ever again.”

“Ever?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Bucky!” you playfully hit his chest.

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. Then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “I’ll just wait until you forget.”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[nameless-jamie]

Hiiiiii, we got Jamie's birthday, can we get PA's?

Shoebox

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

A/N: I love it! Have been thinking about this hard and wanted to do this in a very emotional way because I felt like PA is a person that wants nobody to know her birthday.

TW: cursing, innuendos, fluff

Jamie Tartt doesn’t remember dates.

He barely remembers his own birthday half the time, much less anyone else’s. Anniversaries? Forget it. Holidays? Only when someone reminds him. It’s never been his thing.

That's why he has Y/N, his personal assistant, to remember them for him.

So when he glances at Y/N’s phone screen—purely by accident, obviously—and sees a message from her mum saying, Happy early birthday, love. Hope you have a lovely day tomorrow—he has to read it twice.

Tomorrow?

His gaze flickers to Y/N, who is sitting on the other end of the couch, legs curled up, scrolling through something on her laptop. She doesn’t react. Doesn’t so much as blink at her phone. No excitement, no mention of plans.

And that’s when Jamie realizes—she’s keeping it a secret. She's keeping her birthday a secret.

He doesn’t understand why. Y/N is the most organized person he knows. She’s the one who reminds him of every single birthday, arranges gifts for his teammates when he forgets, keeps track of every little thing. But her own birthday? She’s just… ignoring it?

Jamie locks his jaw, turning his attention back to the telly, pretending like he didn’t see a thing.

But he did. And now it’s rattling around in his head, sticking there like a song he can’t get rid of.

That night, Jamie lies in bed, staring at the ceiling.

He could just say something.

But if she wanted people to know, she would have told him.

So instead, he does something different—something that makes his heart hammer against his ribs.

He gets up, pulls out the shoebox from the top of his closet, and dumps the contents onto his bed.

A mess of ticket stubs, polaroids, receipts, and random scraps of paper falls out. He sifts through them, picking up a blurry photo of them at a team dinner, a crumpled note she had once left on his gym bag (Don’t be late today, Tartt. I mean it.), a matchday program where she had circled his name in blue ink.

Jamie doesn’t know why he’s kept these things. He’s never been sentimental like that.

But somehow, without even realizing it, he’s been keeping her.

The next day, Jamie acts normal.

Or at least, he tries to.

It’s harder than he expects. Every time he looks at her, he wants to say something. But he doesn’t. Instead, he pays extra attention—watching for any sign that she might, at the very least, acknowledge her own birthday.

Nothing.

No one at the club knows. No one wishes her. She doesn’t act any different.

And for some reason, it pisses him off.

At lunch, he slides into the seat next to her, nudging her arm. "You, uh, doin’ anything later?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. Just gonna go home."

Jamie frowns. "Borin'. "

She huffs a quiet laugh. "Not everyone needs to be constantly entertained, Jamie."

"Yeah, but—" He stops himself. Shrugs. "Dunno. Just seems like a waste of uhm— day."

She tilts her head, narrowing her eyes. "What do you mean? Why are you being weird?"

"I’m not."

"You are."

"Oi, shut up."

She laughs, shaking her head, and Jamie forces himself to act like it’s just another day.

But it isn’t.

That evening, Y/N comes home to find a small, wrapped package sitting on her coffee table.

There’s no note. No indication of who left it.

Frowning, she picks it up, carefully peeling back the paper.

Inside is a shoebox filled with random stuff.

She stills, fingers tracing over the outside of the box, heart pounding for reasons she doesn’t quite understand. Slowly, she skims through the contents—and her breath catches in her throat.

It’s them.

Photo after photo, little notes, ticket stubs from games they attended together, receipts from coffee shops where they’d sat for hours going over Jamie's schedule. There’s a picture of her laughing at something stupid he’d said, a doodle he’d made on a napkin that she had long forgotten about, a torn page from an old match program where he had scribbled, bet you a tenner I score today (and she had, indeed, owed him ten quid after that game).

She swallows hard.

Near the bottom of the box, in Jamie’s unmistakable handwriting, there’s a note.

"Dunno why you don’t tell people it’s your birthday. But I remember things when they matter."

Her breath catches.

Because Jamie Tartt doesn’t remember birthdays. He doesn’t remember dates.

But somehow—somehow—he remembered hers.

The knock on her door comes late.

Too late for anyone but him.

She opens it to find Jamie standing there, hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.

"Hey."

She blinks at him, still holding the shoebox in her hands. "Jamie, did you—?"

"Like it?" He grins, but there’s something softer behind it. "Spent fuckin’ ages collecting that stuff, y’know."

She lets out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. "Jamie, I—"

"You don’t have to say anythin’," he interrupts, then gestures behind him. "But, uh, you do have to come with me."

She raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

His smirk deepens. "You’ll see."

She should say no. She should protest, tell him she doesn’t want a big deal made out of today.

But she doesn’t.

Because Jamie Tartt, of all people, remembered.

And for once, she thinks, maybe her birthday is something worth celebrating.

Y/N stares at Jamie for a long second, her fingers tightening around the shoebox.

He’s grinning at her like he hasn’t just completely dismantled her entire sense of reality—like he hasn’t just remembered something she never even told him.

She wants to ask how he found out. Wants to ask why he went through the effort when he forgets literally everyone else’s birthdays.

But instead, she exhales, tilts her head, and says, “You’re not gonna tell me where we’re going, are you?”

Jamie smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”

She doesn’t protest when he leads her outside. Doesn’t roll her eyes when he opens the car door for her with an exaggerated flourish. Doesn’t even question the way he hums under his breath as he drives—some aimless tune, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel in time with the rhythm.

It’s… nice.

Too nice.

Because Jamie Tartt has always been in her life like a storm—loud and chaotic and everywhere all at once. But this? This is different. It’s steady. Purposeful.

And that’s what scares her.

They don’t talk much as he drives. He makes a few comments about some knob on the pitch today, how Roy nearly had an aneurysm over something someone did in training. She nods, hums in agreement, but her mind is elsewhere.

Because no matter how hard she tries to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, her gaze keeps drifting back to the shoebox in her lap.

Jamie had kept all of this.

Ticket stubs, stupid notes, photos she didn’t even know existed.

She doesn’t know what to do with that.

Doesn’t know what it means.

But before she can spiral too hard, Jamie pulls up in front of a familiar place.

Her brows furrow. “The Dogtrack?”

Jamie flashes her a grin, hopping out of the car. “C’mon.”

She follows him, still utterly lost. It’s dark, but the entrance is lit up. The usual bustling energy of match days is missing, the stadium eerily quiet.

Jamie pushes open the door and gestures for her to step inside. “After you.”

She gives him a suspicious look but walks in.

And stops dead.

Because standing there—right in the middle of the locker room—is the entire AFC Richmond team.

And they’re all grinning at her.

There’s a giant “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” banner hanging from the ceiling, a table filled with snacks and a cake, and—oh god, is that Roy Kent wearing a bloody party hat?

There’s a beat of stunned silence before Keeley comes bounding over, throwing her arms around her.

“Happy birthday, babe! Jamie said you were trying to be all sneaky about it, but absolutely not.”

She barely has time to process that before she’s being passed from person to person—Rebecca giving her a warm hug, Sam beaming at her, Dani nearly lifting her off the ground in excitement.

She hears Isaac loudly exclaim, “Wait, I knew we were missin’ someone’s birthday this month!”

Colin laughs. “Mate, you did not.”

In the middle of it all, Jamie watches her.

She meets his eyes across the room, her heart hammering in her chest.

He doesn’t say anything. Just smirks and nods toward the table like go on, then.

And Y/N, for the first time in a long time, thinks that maybe—just maybe—her birthday is something worth celebrating after all.

The party is chaos.

Good chaos, the kind she never would have planned for herself but can’t help smiling at. The team is in full celebration mode—Dani is leading a conga line around the locker room, Sam is passionately debating cake flavors with Rebecca, and Roy has miraculously kept the party hat on despite muttering curses under his breath every time someone points it out.

Y/N lets herself enjoy it. She laughs when Colin hands her a drink, shakes her head fondly when Keeley insists on taking selfies with her, and even joins in when Isaac starts up some ridiculous drinking game involving half the squad and an alarming amount of tequila.

But eventually, it all becomes a lot.

Not in a bad way, just in an overwhelming way.

So she quietly slips outside.

The air is cool against her skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. She leans against the railing overlooking the training pitch, letting out a slow breath.

She still doesn’t know how to process all of this.

Jamie—who forgets every birthday, who once confidently said the Queen’s Jubilee was in March—had remembered hers. And not just remembered. He had planned.

And the shoebox…

Her fingers tighten around the railing.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there before she hears the door open behind her.

Footsteps. Familiar ones.

Then Jamie’s voice, soft but teasing. “Oi. You ditchin’ your own party?”

She huffs a laugh but doesn’t turn around. “Just needed some air.”

A beat of silence. Then, “Too much?”

She finally glances over her shoulder. Jamie is standing there, hands in his pockets, watching her with that unreadable expression of his—the one that isn’t quite cocky, isn’t quite soft, but somewhere in between.

She exhales. “A little.”

He nods like he understands, stepping up beside her. They stand there for a moment, the sounds of the party muffled behind them, the cool night air settling around them.

Then, quietly, she says, “Thank you.”

Jamie tilts his head. “For what?”

She turns to face him fully now, and god, he’s so close. Close enough that she can see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, like he doesn’t quite know how to respond.

“For everything,” she says, voice softer now. “For remembering. For the shoebox. For… all of this.” She gestures toward the stadium.

Jamie shifts on his feet, like he’s trying to play it cool, but there’s something vulnerable in the way he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. You were bein’ a right weirdo about it, keepin’ it a secret and all.”

She smiles. “I just don’t really celebrate it.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he murmurs, watching her carefully. “Just thought… dunno. Maybe this year, you should.”

Her throat feels tight.

Because Jamie Tartt—who is meant to be selfish, who is meant to be thoughtless—has seen her in a way no one else has.

She doesn’t know what to say.

So she doesn’t say anything.

Instead, she steps forward and wraps her arms around him.

Jamie stills for half a second before his arms come around her in return, pulling her in. He smells like expensive cologne and whatever shampoo he swears by, and his body is solid and warm against hers.

But then—just as she thinks about pulling away—Jamie shifts.

And suddenly, his arms tighten, and he tugs her even closer, pressing his forehead to the top of her head.

Her heart pounds.

Slowly, his hands move—one settling on her waist, the other slipping up her back.

Then, just when she thinks she’s hit her limit of feeling too much, Jamie shifts again—this time turning her towards the pitch and hugging her from behind, resting his chin against her shoulder, his chest pressing into her back, his arms locked around her like he’s keeping her there.

She swallows hard.

“D’you like it?” he murmurs against her skin.

She closes her eyes. “Yeah.”

Jamie exhales, his breath warm against her. “Good.”

Jamie’s expression shifts, something warmer settling in his eyes.

And then, because she can’t let him have the last word, she smirks. “But, y’know… If I wouldn't have liked it there would always be your plan B present..”

Jamie frowns, confused. “What?”

She bites back a grin, tilting her head at him. “Jamie, I distinctly remember you saying on your birthday that your dream present was me, wrapped in only a bow. What if I wanted the same?”

Jamie blinks.

Then, his lips part, and something dangerous flickers across his face.

“Can be arranged,” he says smoothly.

Y/N snorts, shoving his arm. “Oh, shut up.”

Jamie laughs, but there’s a look in his eyes—one that’s both playful and something else, something deeper.

Something she doesn’t know what to do with.

They stay like that for a long time.

Long enough for the noise of the party to fade into the background. Long enough for her to forget anything else exists.

Just her.

And Jamie.

And this.

[yoonguurt]

Pairing: non idol Jihoon x F!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, smut

Trope: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 5,088 

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: Jihoon always joins in when his group of friends makes fun of Mingyu for being a simp for his girlfriend. It isn’t that he thinks that a man shouldn’t go above and beyond for their significant other, it’s just that he hasn’t had a girlfriend that makes him want to go that far. Maybe one day, though.

A/N: This is for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid event! Surpise @strawberry-skiess I'm your cupid! This honestly was hard to start, but once I started I just couldn't stop. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Valentine's Day (even though I'm a day late) Thanks to @kwanisms for this lovely little banner. I love it so much. This is for adults only, no minors allowed! I will fight you.

Read all of the other wonderful entries here

Smut Warnings: slight nipple play, dom!Jihoon, sub!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex (do not), maybe two thigh slaps

“Well, if it isn’t the simp of the century.” Jeonghan’s voice floats through Jihoon’s ears and he looks to the door as Mingyu walks in. Over the last couple of months, calling their group giant a simp has become something of a ritual. They don’t mean it, they honestly think it’s adorable how whipped Mingyu is. And he certainly isn’t ashamed of it. He wears the title like a badge of honor. “Still single and bitchy, I see.” Mingyu’s retort is almost immediate, a cheshire grin adorning his face as he watches the rest of the group burst into laughter and Jeonghan’s face turn into a mix between a smirk and a scowl. 

Jihoon retreats into his thoughts while his friends chatter amongst themselves. He does think it’s sweet how much Mingyu loves his girlfriend, he just isn’t sure that he understands. Sure, he’s had a few relationships of his own, and while he cared about them, even loved one or two, he has never known the amount of love Mingyu seems to wield. His friend found his self described love of his life around 4 months ago and he’s been head over heels the entire time. Jihoon has watched Mingyu rush to get to his phone when he gets a text, with a special ringtone for his girlfriend, and smile like an idiot at whatever it is she has said.

He’s lived through Mingyu leaving nights at the bar solely because his girl wanted to cuddle. When her birthday came around, the two men spent hours going through unlimited stores while Mingyu tried to find the perfect present. Every time Jihoon suggested something, Mingyu had a retort on why it wasn’t good enough. The new cd by her favorite band? “I don’t have enough time to get it signed.” The pretty pink purse that screamed something his girlfriend would like? “I already got her that one.” Eventually, the tall man had settled on a necklace that Jihoon was certain cost more than a used car. Mingyu had the money to throw around, he guessed. 

Part of Jihoon wants to know what it’s like to feel like that. Another part thinks that it seems like a burden. He can’t decide where he stands on the topic. Sure, he wants that great love that novels describe, wants to give his heart to someone and know that they’ll always be there. But at the same time, he isn’t sure he’ll find someone that can deal with his finicky moods. There are times when he wants someone to cuddle, only to immediately change his mind. He knows that can be annoying, and he is working on it. One of his other issues is time. He takes his job seriously. 

Working as a producer, he is a busy man. He doesn’t know if there’s a person out there that will understand that sometimes, he loses himself in his work. His phone drifts to the back of his mind, dates forgotten without him meaning to. It’s the main reason his relationships have failed. He genuinely doesn’t mean to, and it’s another thing he has been working on. He’s been getting better at responding to his friends in a timely manner, he’s even taken to setting alarms on his phones so he doesn’t miss the planned hangouts. Sure, he still falls into the music and forgets the world around him, but he’s getting better.

There has always been an exception, though. You. His best friend. The two of you have known each other for years, having met in freshman year of college. Your sunny disposition sometimes clashed with the grumpy facade he puts on, but it’s always worked. A couple of his exes thought there was something going on between the two of you, but that’s never been the case. He just clicks with you. You understand him. You’re a busy woman, too. The journalism world stops for no one. 

“Isn’t that right, Jihoon?” He snaps head up toward the voice. Soonyoung looks at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to agree with him. “Sorry, what?” The huff of air that comes from Soonyoung’s mouth lets him know how annoyed his friend is. “I said that it’s cute that Mingyu loves his girl so much, isn’t that right?” Honestly, he doesn’t know how to answer this. “Sure, it’s cute, but it seems exhausting.” The sound of a scoff comes from behind him and he turns to the sound. He hadn’t realized that you were here. He suddenly feels like he said something wrong, like when a teacher calls on you to answer in class and you fumble and answer wrong. It’s embarrassing for some reason. “So what I’m hearing is that you would find caring for your partner that much to be an inconvenience?” Everyone’s eyes flit between you and Jihoon, waiting for a debate to start. The two of you have always been like that. You’re able to have a small, argumentative conversation and then go back to joking like it never happened. 

Jihoon sighs deeply, knowing where this is going. “That’s not what I said.” His tone lets you know just how annoyed at having a conversation like this again. “I’m just saying that Mingyu’s level of simpdom sounds like a bit much. I’m happy he has someone that he loves so much, but being at her beck and call constantly sounds tiring.” Mingyu responds before you can even open your mouth. “That isn’t how it is.” His tone isn’t defensive in any way. He just sounds like he’s explaining something to a child. “She doesn’t ask me to do any of that. She actually encourages me to have fun with you guys. I just feel so happy that I have her and I want to make sure she knows that.” 

Jihoon stays silent for a moment, thinking over Mingyu’s words. He thinks to himself, wandering again if he’s ever had something like that. He thinks the closest thing he’s had is you. He’s dropped more things that he can count to be at your side when you need him. He’s even dipped on girlfriends because you were upset. Once, he canceled on his most recent ex just because you secured a front page spot for the local paper. He needed to be the one to celebrate your accomplishment with you, needed to be the first one to congratulate you. He didn’t want to think too deeply about what that meant. Sure, he had had a massive crush on you in college, he thought he might have been in love with you, but that had disappeared a long time ago. 

When you showed no sign of reciprocating his feelings, he decided to let it go, letting you go, at least in the romantic sense. 

Of course, there were still times where he’d look at you and think about how beautiful you were, especially when you’d just woken up and the light was hitting you in a specific way. But, that was just him appreciating your beauty as a best friend. He was sure of it. Realizing he had been quiet for too long, he glanced at Mingyu, nodding his head. “I guess I could see how someone could feel that way.” He chose to ignore the way Soonyoung cut his eyes toward him, knowing what he was thinking. Soonyoung had been the only person who had known about his college crush. He always insisted that you had felt the same, and that Jihoon still held a candle for you. 

“You’ll find it one day, Hoon. Don’t close yourself off to it.” Your voice is strained, though you try to hide it. You’ve always admired Jihoon, even if he was a bit closed off. He’d never really let himself go in a relationship. It was like he never felt comfortable. But you knew him at his core, knew how sweet and thoughtful he was. He had always been there for you when you needed him, which was probably why your love for him had never died. You’d tried to find someone else, dated people, even loved one or two, but not like you loved Jihoon. No one could compare. You’ve seen every side of him and there isn’t a single one of them that you don’t adore. He’s also been growing his hair and God does he look better than you’ve ever seen him. You can tell his confidence has grown a little and that is even more attractive. You know you’re well and truly fucked, but you aren’t sure you want to change that.

The night winds down and everyone gathers their things to leave. Soonyoung takes the time to pull Jihoon aside, making the younger boy look at his friend in confusion. “Look, I know you’re going to deny it like you always do, but watching you two pine after each other is getting hard to do.” Jihoon opens his mouth, only to be silenced by Soonyoung’s hand lifting in the air. “Have you ever stopped to think that there’s a reason that relationships never worked out for either of you? If you haven’t, then think about it, ok?” Soonyoung clapped his friend on the shoulder before he moved to hug you and tell you goodbye. 

“I’ll help clean up.” Jihoon’s words cut into your thoughts, distracting you from what it is you were thinking. You turned to face him, a teasing smirk gracing your features. “Take a look around. There’s nothing to clean up. Go home and actually get some sleep tonight. I know you have to be at the studio early tomorrow, just like I know you haven’t been sleeping. Just listen to me and go sleep.” He was baffled at how you knew that, but then again it was a talent you seemed to have. Knowing everything without him having to tell you. But then again, he guessed he had the same talent. It was like a sixth sense. Some real ‘There’s a disturbance’ shit. He simply nodded at you, saying goodnight and leaving without even stopping to think that you barely had to have any force behind your turn to get him to do exactly what you wanted.

The thinking came when he walked through his door. A lot of it. Soonyoung’s words began to float through his mind. Did they have any weight to them at all? Sure, relationships had really never worked out for the two of you, but that didn’t mean anything. Relationships come and go, that’s what they do. Occasionally, people get lucky and they find who they’re supposed to be with. Sometimes, they don’t. That was just life, it didn’t mean that the two of you were the reason the other’s relationships failed. The more he thought about it, though, the more merit Soonyoung’s words seemed to hold. Any time you needed him, he came running, and the same applied to you. You’ve both left dates and anniversaries because the other needed something. He’s had to assure quite a few exs that there was nothing romantic between the two of you and if he had to guess, he’d say you’ve done the same. Everything hits him at all once and he feels the need to sit down to process. 

You’re going through your own mental roller coaster. You know that Jihoon could find his person if he would just let someone in. It doesn’t have to be you, though you desperately want it to be, you just want him to find someone that will make him happy, someone that will bring out the loving side you know that he has. You sigh deeply as you lock up your apartment, making your way to your bed to get some much needed sleep.

You don’t hear from Jihoon for a few days, but that isn’t totally unusual. Sometimes he gets so lost in the music and you just wait until he’s back in the land of the living. But as a whole week passes, you start to worry. He’s never gone more than 3 days without speaking to you. You try to play through the events of the last time you saw him, thinking about if you had done something out of the norm. The only thing you think of is the conversation everyone had about Mingyu. He must have been offended that he was ganged up on, but then again that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t the first time everyone had had this conversation and he has never reacted like this before. It takes a split second for you to make up your mind and grab your purse and walk out the door.

Jihoon sits at his computer, staring past it like it’s not even there. He can’t focus, hasn’t been able to focus for a week. His thoughts always float back to you and how he feels. Now that he has realized he does in fact have feelings for you still, he can’t seem to bring himself to face you. What if he acts different? What if you realize? He can’t risk it. There are too many years of friendship on the line. Sure, not answering your texts is the coward’s way out, but he doesn’t know what else to do. As he had sat on his couch a week ago, the realization that he was in love with you hit him in the face. Damn Soonyoung. He would have been totally fine if he had kept being ignorant. Now though, he knows that he’d do anything for you. He knows that he already does do anything for you. 

The beeping on the keypad to his studio brings his attention back to reality. There are select few who know the code to his studio and he looks at the door with held breath, hoping it isn’t who he knows it is. You swing the door open, displeasure written all over your face. “What the fuck, Lee Jihoon?” He grimaces, hating that you’ve pulled his full name out of your pocket. If he didn’t before, he knows now that he is in deep trouble. He sits in his chair, slouching like a scolded child as you glare at him. “No text in a week. No reply in a week. Nothing to let me know that you’re even alive. Who the hell do you think you are?” Jihoon almost wants to laugh, thinking you’re adorable even when you’re angry, but he doesn’t dare. He knows that will only make things worse for him. 

Jihoon is hit with a sudden urge to touch you and he can’t hold back. He quickly stands and moves towards you slowly, watching as your demeanor changes. You go from angry to confused as you watch his steps. He stops in front of you, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.” The words are whispered, but you can still hear them. All of the anger leaves you, almost. You hit his shoulder lightly, making him giggle slightly. “You damn well should be. Had my ass worried sick, asshole.” There’s a playfulness in your tone, one that you can’t help but let out. Your confusion grows as you realize that Jihoon hasn’t stopped hugging you. That is definitely different. Jihoon hates physical touch, he always has. In the entirety of your friendship, he’s only hugged you a handful of times and everyone has been quick, lasting only a few seconds.

“What happened to you in the past week for you to be so affectionate? You hate physical affection.” Your words come out teasing, trying to mask your genuine curiosity as a joke. He doesn’t answer for a moment, seeming content to just continue holding you. When he finally does speak, you choke on air, starting a small coughing fit. “Yeah, but I love you.” There’s no teasing tone. No joking. You can hear the sincerity in his voice. You have no words. No thoughts, head empty. 

Jihoon pulls back just enough to look at you and you can see the hesitation and worry in his eyes. You need to say something, you want to say something, but nothing is coming out. Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish gasping for air and you’re sure you look ridiculous. When you finally find words, they aren’t what you planned to say. “Are you sure about that?” Jihoon can’t contain his laugh and the sound hits you in your gut. It makes every fiber of your being tingle. Hearing him laugh brings you back to reality and you give him a playful shove, smiling and letting out a huff of laughter of your own. “Shut up.” There’s no real bite to your words and you know that he knows that. “I tell you that I love you and your response is to ask me if I’m sure?” He’s teasing you and loving it and you pout. “Hey! It’s a perfectly valid question!” Looking at him your heart surges with affection. 

“As funny as that was, I’m kind of panicking over here. A response would be nice, even if it’s a rejection.” Jihoon chews his lip as the nerves show on his face. You can’t help but smile at him and reach up and lace your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. “Have I told you how much I love your hair like this?” Your statement throws him off guard and he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Wha-” You cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Almost as much as I love you.” The smile that comes across his face could light up a room with no lights. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?” He giggles against your lips as you give him a pout and a shove. His reaction is to pull you closer to him, pressing you as close to his body as possible. 

His eyes flit down to your lips before trailing back to your eyes, in silent question. You give him a slight nod, knowing that he’ll get the message. You watch as his lips slowly move towards yours, as if he’s teasing you by making you wait. You let out a whine of impatience and he giggles. He can’t help but give you what you want. When he finally presses his mouth to yours, it’s like the world explodes in a rainbow of colors you didn’t even know existed. You feel as if your entire purpose makes sense now that you have tasted his lips. It doesn’t take long before the sweet pecks turn into desperate, open mouthed kisses. His tongue dances with yours, fighting for dominance, which he quickly wins. The way he takes control of the kiss goes straight to your core. You’d thought about this and sure, you thought he’d be more of a dominant lover, but the reality is greater than what you could imagine. And this is only kissing. You can only imagine what it’s going to be like when he’s actually fucking you. The thought alone has your thighs clenching.

Of course, Jihoon notices even though you’re trying to be subtle about it. He pulls back with a smirk. “Oh? Is someone getting needy?” The way his voice drops in octave only causes you to clench tighter and let out a small whimper. Jihoon’s lips make their way to your neck, leaving small nibbles and kisses in their wake. “Aww. My poor baby. Already getting desperate, huh?” All you can do is nod against him as your hands grab at his shirt. He lets out a deep chuckle against the skin of your neck and the vibrations make you shiver. His hand slowly makes its way from your neck down the front of your chest, stopping just above your breast. He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, silent asking for consent. Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you take his hand, completely bypassing your clothed breast and placing it at the hem of your shirt. He takes the hint, leaning back just enough to lift your shirt from your body.

The chilly air in the studio causes your nipples to harden immediately and Jihoon’s eyes fall to your chest and darken with lust. His hands instantly find your bra covered breasts, pulling the cups down just enough to him to see your peaked buds. Taking one in between his thumb and index fingers, he pinches lightly, just enough to see your reaction. When you arch into him, he smirks, knowing he’s found something you like. “Hoon, please.” Your voice is light and airy, the need evident. “Please what, sweetheart? What do you need? You’ve gotta use your words, pretty.” The way you buck your hips and whine tells him all he needs to know. 

He moves his fingers to the button of your pants, making a show of slowly loosening the button. His teasing is both driving you crazy and making you more horny than you have ever been. Your hips are bucking into nothing, desperate for some sort of stimulation. When he finally gets the button undone, he sinks to his knees, pulling your pants down as he lowers himself. “Hands above your head, baby. No moving unless I say.” The softness of his tone does nothing to hide the dominance and it makes you weak. You nod and move your hands above your head against the wall. Jihoon flashes you a smile that makes your heart flutter. “What a good girl I have. You listen so well, my love.” 

When he taps your leg to signal for you to lift your legs to step out of the pants. You obey slowly, trying to tease him a little bit. A quick slap to your thigh makes you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips. “Behave. I’m trying to make our first time sweet. Don’t test me, angel.” His patience wavers slightly when he can’t wait to remove your panties, simply using his strength to rip them so that they fall off of you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “Holy shit, Jihoon.” He smirks like he knows how much his strength affects you, because he does. He doesn’t say anything, simply lifts your right leg and places it over his shoulder. Your breath hitches as you look down at him, making eye contact as he makes a show of sticking his tongue out, flicking it over your clit. The sudden contact makes you jerk forward and your eyes fall closed. Even though the action was nowhere near enough, it made you even more wet. You’re practically dripping at this point and once glance at the man below you lets you know that he enjoys the effect he has on you. 

He spends what feels like forever just slowly giving your clit kitten licks, driving you insane just as slowly. Without warning, his actions speed up. He grips your hips and harshly pulls them forward, shoving his face as far into your pussy as he can get it. The moan you emit is bordering on pornagraphic. Your fingers twitch, wanting so badly to grip him by the hair and ride his face. As if he can sense your thoughts, he pulls back, making you whine. “Don’t even try it. Move those hands and you won’t cum at all.” The slight growl in his voice does things to your insides. “Yes, sir.” Your voice is low and desperate and Jihoon groans, approving of your choice of title. 

He dives back into your cunt, quickly sliding his middle finger inside of you, his ring following a few seconds later. He curls his fingers, searching for the spot that he knows will make you come undone. It doesn’t take him long to find it, pressing the tips of his fingers against it and rubbing. You can’t control the sounds that come from your throat and you’re beyond glad the studio is soundproof. You can feel yourself getting closer to your peak and you do your best to communicate that. “Ji, please. So close.” Your hips are moving without your control, chasing your end on instinct. Jihoon leans back long enough to give you permission to come. “That’s it baby. Let it go. Let me taste you. Give it to me.” His words throw you over the precipice, launching your mind into a different plane, one that is filled with nothing but pleasure and the sound of his voice. Jihoon works you through your orgasm, slowing down gradually to draw it out as long as possible. 

“Breathe, love. In and out.” You don’t even realize how hard you’re panting, but you listen to him regardless. Your eyes are closed and your legs feel like jelly and you’re aware that you’re only standing because he’s holding you up. You aren’t sure when he stood, brushing his fingers across your face and through your hair. When you finally return to reality, he’s looking at you with concern. “Are you ok?” His voice is shaky with hints of worry and his eyes flicker all over your face like he’s looking for some sign of distress. It takes you a moment to respond and when you do, you can only say the first thing that pops into your mind. “Are you fucking kidding me? That was insane and amazing and I need your cock in me right now or I’ll die.” The laugh Jihoon lets out is loud and unrestrained and it makes you smile. 

He places a quick kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself briefly on his lips. His hands take hold of yours and he slowly moves you toward the couch that sits against the wall behind his computer chair. With another kiss, he steps back, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. “Lay down on your back, baby.” You don’t even think before doing as he says, keeping your eyes on his as he lifts his shirt over his head. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jihoon shirtless, but the fact that you know what’s about to happen makes it all the more erotic. He drops the shirt on the floor, not caring where it lands, moving his hands to the basketball shorts he’s wearing. Your breath hitches in anticipation, and you refuse to even blink as he eases his shorts and boxers down together. When his length comes into view, your mouth goes dry. He’s the perfect amount of length and girth, not too long or short and you just know the stretch will be heavenly. He watches you look at him for a moment before he steps out of his clothes completely and makes his way to the couch where your body lies limp and needy.

His eyes wander your body, simply taking you in, clearly liking the way you’re spread out for him. “You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?” The way he’s looking at you makes your insides turn to mush and you reach for him, making grabby hands at him. He gives you a soft smile, kneeling in between your legs and linking his fingers with yours. After giving each hand a kiss, he lifts them to fit around his neck, leaning down to give a slow kiss, full of nothing but love. Giving you one last questioning look, he waits for you to smile and nod before he reaches down to align his length with your entrance. When he pushes forward, it feels like the world expands and closes in at the same time. You’re hyper aware of everything while also only focusing on the feel of him. It’s like you’ve finally found a piece of yourself that you didn’t even know you were missing. 

The first thrust steals every bit of oxygen you have, replacing it with love and just Jihoon. The sound he makes causes a groan to erupt from your throat. He sounds wrecked already and you love that you’re the one that is making him that way. His face buries itself in your neck, lips littering kisses along the exposed skin. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You can tell that he’s holding himself back. You lift your head just enough for your lips to be close to his ear, giving it a soft bite. “Jihoon, you can be soft later. Right now, I need you to fuck me.” It seems like that’s all he needed to hear. He pulls his hips back until his cock is almost completely out of you before he slams back in. Hard. The movement jolts your whole body, shoving your head against the arm of the couch. Without missing a beat, Jihoon brings his hand down to place it between your head and the couch, his thrusts still hard and fast. 

With the combination of his speed, depth and roughness, you’re embarrassingly close to coming for the second time. You dig the nails of one hand into the skin of his back, the other making its way to his hair, pulling just enough for him to feel it. The groan he lets out lets you know that he very much enjoys that. Your moans are loud and mixing with the filthy babbles that are coming from him. Praise of how good you feel, how badly he’s wanted this, how you’re his now. Your orgasm hits you full force without you even realizing just how close you were. The squeezing of your pussy around his cock and the look on your face has Jihoon following you immediately, filling your cunt with every bit of cum he has. You look up at him, and his breath hitches. You’re so, so beautiful and so, so his. Looking at you like this, he knows that he would do anything for you. Anything just to see you happy and smiling. He would eat glass if that would cause you joy, even though he knows it wouldn’t. A sudden realization hits him and he lowers his head.

“Shit, I’m a simp, too.”

[wendichester]

I’m slowly going through your stories - I love every single one of them, they’re amazingly written. And I was wondering if you could write one about Dean teaching Sam’s partner drive? She’s Sam’s age and claims that she doesn’t need to know when she has the two of them.

Thank you so much 🩷🩷🩷

⋆｡° ✮ stick shift,

summary. dean teaches you how to drive!

pairing. dean winchester x sam's gf!reader

wordcount. 501

notes. i was actually meaning to write dean teaching reader to drive, so this one came in handy ehe hope you like bubs! 🩷

“You realize this is unnecessary, right?” you say, arms crossed as you lean against the Impala. “I have two perfectly capable chauffeurs.”

Dean scoffs, tossing you the keys. “Yeah, and one day, Sam and I might not be around to drive your ass.”

Your stomach tightens at that, but you mask it with an eye roll. “Not exactly a vote of confidence, Winchester.”

“Get in the car.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you slide into the driver’s seat. The leather is warm under your fingers as you grip the wheel, the scent of whiskey, motor oil, and Dean's cologne lingering in the air.

Dean settles into the passenger seat, stretching out like he owns the place—because, well, he does. He taps the dashboard. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s start with the basics. Foot on the brake, turn the key.”

You do as you’re told, and the Impala rumbles to life beneath you. It sends a thrill through your chest—not that you’d admit it.

Dean watches you like a hawk. “Now shift into drive—slowly—and ease off the brake.”

You move the shifter, hesitant but determined. The car lurches forward, and you instinctively slam the brake, jerking both of you in your seats.

Dean lets out a dry laugh. “Jesus. You tryna kill me before we even hit the road?”

“Sorry!” you wince. “She’s touchy.”

“She’s a ‘67 Chevy, not a goddamn Prius.” Dean gestures forward. “Try again, nice and easy.”

This time, you press the gas more carefully, and the car rolls forward smoothly. A grin tugs at your lips. “Okay, that wasn’t awful.”

“There ya go,” Dean says, sounding almost proud. “Now, let’s take her out.”

You pull onto the road, gripping the wheel like your life depends on it. Dean watches you, surprisingly patient, arms folded across his chest.

For a few minutes, it’s fine. You’re actually doing it, driving the damn Impala. Then—

“Shit, stop sign!”

You panic, foot slamming the brake too hard. The Impala screeches to a halt, and Dean lets out a grunt as he’s thrown forward.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters, rubbing his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

“I did!”

“Well, maybe don’t scream at me!”

Dean levels you with a look, then sighs. “Alright, alright. Look, you’re doing fine, but let’s try not to give me whiplash, huh?”

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I don’t know why I’m even doing this.”

Dean tilts his head. “Because one day, you might have to get behind the wheel. Maybe Sam’s hurt, or we’re in trouble, and you gotta get outta Dodge.” His voice is softer now. “You need to be able to take care of yourself.”

You chew your lip. That’s the real reason, isn’t it? Not because Dean thinks you’re helpless, but because he refuses to let you be.

“…Fine,” you grumble. “But if I wreck your car, that’s on you.”

Dean grins. “Don't test my patience, sweetheart. Go on,”

You roll your eyes and press the gas, this time a little more confident.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @img14 ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @aerinu ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ⋆ @chi_raz

[gloomweed]

Eddie Loved Valentine's Day (eddie munson x bestfriend!reader)

a/n: I got the idea for this story last valentine's day, but I didn't finish it until today and I'm still not quite satisfied with it but I had to just get this out there already. This fic is more angsty than romantic, but it didn't feel right trying to shoehorn in some romance, so this is just how it's going to be.

summary: Eddie deals with some bad childhood memories on a valentine's day he spends with you.

w/c: 3.7k

Eddie loved Valentine’s day. Loved, as in, he used to. Specifically, when he was still in elementary school. Back then, the class would spend the whole day creating little mailboxes to hold all their cards. Decorating the recycled shoebox with stickers and markers, writing his name in big scrawling letters over the top. His mom would help him the night before, preparing the cards he was going to hand out. She would tell him how to spell each name, going one letter at a time. When she would ask if he needed help spelling his name, Eddie would hold out his little hand saying very confidently, “No, I know how.” Her voice was always gentle when reminding him ‘Eddie’ has a second ‘D’ after the first one.

Although there was little variety in the pack his mom bought from the store, Eddie made an effort to pick the card he thinks the recipient would like best. A Garfield card for Sindy, since she is always borrowing his orange marker. It’s her favorite color. An Odie card for Josh, since he spends recess digging with sticks and rocks. Something about wanting to find dinosaur bones. It would go like that until all the cards were signed, folded, and held together with little heart stickers.

The following day, Eddie would pass out all his cards and return to his seat to find his makeshift mailbox stuffed. In those days, he would get a card from every single classmate. He’d be filled with excitement as he opened each one. The puns and characters on the cards were fun to see, but really Eddie just enjoyed the thought that someone made him something. Some cards even came with a little candy. It was a fun day all around, and doing less school work was also a big plus.

After his mom passed, Valentine’s day kind of lost its charm. His dad said buying Valentine’s cards that kids were only gonna look at once and throw away afterwards was a waste of money and effort; however, that didn’t stop Eddie from participating anyways. He spent the night making his own cards out of notebook paper, drawing hearts and smiling faces on each one. Despite all the care he put into them, the finished product looked pretty messy. The cards weren’t all the same size, there were some misspelled words, marker ink bleeding through the paper, and since he didn’t have stickers, they were held together with regular translucent tape. Give him a break, he was nine. It wasn’t much, but Eddie put his heart and soul into it.

Once all the cards were passed out, everyone began digging into their boxes, reading cards and opening candy. “What even is this?” Eddie looked up from his pile of valentines to see one of his classmates holding up one he homemade, a disgusted look on their face. Another kid laughed. “Why does it look like that?” Eddie felt red, hot shame fill his cheeks as others began to join in the laughter. He sank further into his seat, wishing to disappear completely. Seeing Eddie’s name on the card gave the boy a target. “What’s the deal, Eddie? Couldn’t afford real valentine’s this year?” 

Eddie shot up from his seat. “No! My dad just forgot to buy them, is all,” he lied. “I just thought, you know, something is better than nothing, right?” His eyes darted between his classmates, hoping they bought it. 

“Next time, don’t even bother. It’d save us the time of throwing them away,” they laughed. It was then that the teacher made the announcement to return to their seats to resume the rest of the learning day. As Eddie sat back down he could feel the sting of tears behind his eyes. He put a lot of effort into those cards, only for his classmates to laugh at him and throw them away. His dad was right. What a waste.

That was the last time Eddie ever participated in Valentine’s day. Ever since then, he would spend the day doing anything else besides celebrating it. This year, he was at your house helping you get a head start on spring cleaning. You wanted to turn your life around, starting with a more organized living space. February 14th is as good a day as any to get started, and it wasn’t like you had any big plans. Which is totally fine and doesn’t depress you at all. 

Although he never told you exactly why, you knew Eddie didn’t particularly like the Hallmark holiday. You assumed it was because of how commercialized it had become since its inception. Of course it could be the matter of keeping up with his image. Soft petalled roses and candy hearts are pretty far from ‘metal.’ Whatever the reason may be, you hated the idea of your friend being alone on a day celebrating love, so inviting him to clean was the next best thing. While it took some convincing, eventually you coaxed him into it with the promise of beer and snacks.

You were both currently working in your bedroom. Eddie would hold something up and ask if you wanted to keep it or throw it away. Meanwhile, you sit on the hardwood floor creating piles all around you as you sift through the contents of your room. He did most of his work while sitting on your bed, a beer in his hand. 

Sometimes he would try on clothes you were feeling unsure of, saying that having someone model it would make it easier to decide its fate. Of course, this theory might have been successful if they actually fit him. The mental image of him in your too small knitted red cardigan is something that will bring a smile to your face for years to come. 

Running out of things to hold up to you, he looked in his direct vicinity and noticed a round tin by his feet, mostly under your bed. When you heard him gasp you turned to see what he had found. “Oh, that’s just my-”

“Cookies!” he shouted as he opened the blue butter cookie tin only for his face to fall in a confused frown.

You laughed. “Yeah, sorry. I reused that old cookie tin for my sentimental crap.”

Instead of delicious cookies, the tin was full of old birthday cards and handwritten messages left by people who cared about you. A letter from your now deceased grandmother, movie stubs from big releases, and Polaroid pictures of some childhood friends. Eddie smiled to himself. It was cute how you would keep stuff like this. From the outside, you didn’t look like the type of person to hold on to birthday cards from your 5th birthday. He looked at you with a playful pout, his eyebrows pulled together. “Aww. You do have a heart.”

Your offended face only made Eddie grin wider. “Shut up,” you laugh before grabbing the nearest stuffed animal and throwing it at him.

Laughing as he dodged your attack, he couldn’t stop some of the cards from jostling out. As he was gathering them back into the tin, he took a closer look at the one made of notebook paper. ‘From Eddie’ was written on the back in big messy letters.

Noticing his sudden silence, you stand to get a better look at what’s in his hands. You peek over his shoulder to see the valentine he hand made in the 4th grade. Immediately you become overwhelmed with embarrassment thinking Eddie was completely freaked out by the fact you kept the card so long, like some kind of stalker weirdo. Words vomit out of your mouth as you try to save your dignity. “Oh! That's- that's so weird! I can't believe I still have that. I thought I threw that out years ago. I’ll just take that back-”

Eddie instinctually snatches the card against his chest, his chin tucked in as he searches your eyes. When it's clear to you he isn't going to give it up, your hand falls limp at your side. Glancing at the card once more, he tries his best to keep his voice steady. “You kept this?” 

The change in demeanor feels unsettling. “Yeah, of course I did.” You look at your feet shyly. “It, uh, means a lot to me.” When you look back up, you see Eddie staring back with confusion.

You’ve gone through this scenarios hundreds of times in the late hours of the night when your brain just couldn’t stop running. How would Eddie react if he found out you kept something he made you when you were kids? The scoff that slips past his taunting lips was the last thing you expected from Eddie. He stands from the bed, looking down on you with a humorless smile. “This shitty scrap of paper means a lot to you?” The sudden scrutiny feels harsh and full of malice. You’ve never had the displeasure to be on the receiving end of Eddie’s anger, and from what little you’ve seen thus far, you hope to never face it again.

Shrugging like it was no big deal, you try your best to downplay your defensiveness. “Well, yeah. I thought it was really sweet of you.” You can’t stop yourself from squinting at him in confusion. “I’m sorry, are you mad at me for keeping it?” Why is he upset with you over this? It was given to you as a gift. You should be able to decide what you do with it without his approval. 

Despite being the one who asked the question, Eddie doesn’t really hear your answer, nor the following question. As he stares down at the messy writing on old, yellowed notebook paper, he feels his chest tighten in an overwhelming stifled rage. Having to be face to face with a reminder of his failure fills Eddie with so much self-hatred that he can’t think straight. It’s a reminder of his shitty dad. A reminder of his shitty childhood. It wasn’t fair. Every imperfect line and patch of bleeding ink stared back at him, mocking him. It all congeals to a point of no return in his gloomy head.

Eddie stares in silence for a moment too long and you can see the emotions shift in his face into something darker. “What are you-” You are cut off by the sound of a quick and quiet crunch, the paper crumpling in his first. It’s a knee jerk reaction that has you gasping at the sight, and Eddie immediately regretting. A piece of his heart shatters at the sound of yours doing the same. “Eddie!” Your high pitched squeal of anguish around the syllables of his own name has him filling with that same sinking heat of shame he felt all those years ago. 

Your hands dart at him, taking the paper from his grip as fast as it was destroyed. You do your best to smooth the paper back into some semblance of its former glory, but the creases on the old, thin paper still remain. It makes it difficult to see the handwritten words on the page, especially since your eyes are welling up with tears. You turn away from Eddie, too angry to face him. Too hurt to let him see you cry over this. Instead you kneel on the floor, slumping over the valentine you hold with the same delicacy as you would hold a baby bird with a broken wing.

Eddie feels his heart racing with anxiety. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to make you cry. He didn’t mean to. All he wanted was to get rid of the stupid reminder, not ruin your priceless keepsake. Eddie stands there for a moment, unsure what to do with himself. He fucked up, he knows that, but he doesn’t know how to make it right. Your name falls from his lips in a stuttering mess. “I- I didn’t mean-” 

Whipping your head back to shoot him a teary eyed glare, you cut him off. “Don’t.” A sad shake of your head, “Just don’t, Eddie.” You didn’t want to hear how he was just trying to make some kind of joke. It wasn’t funny. It was just cruel. You turn back to stare at the ruined item in your cupped hands.

Eddie backs up towards the door, eyes wide and voice small. “Sorry.” You don’t say anything, but of course he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him. He leaves you be, silently making his way out of your house. 

On the drive home, he’s mentally kicking himself the entire time. Why did I do that? What is wrong with me? Why do I have to find a way to ruin everything? When he pulls into the gravel driveway of his uncle’s trailer, he cuts the engine and contemplates in silence.

He has to make this right. That valentine meant something to you. You kept that shitty scrap of paper for years while the rest of the class threw it in the trash where it belongs.  That has to mean something, right? You wouldn’t keep trash for this long unless it was important, right?

Eddie runs a hand down his face as he belatedly processed what you said about him. I thought it was really sweet of you. You thought he was sweet? The tiny compliment is enough to bring a flush to his cheeks, and it only makes him feel worse about the whole situation. It’s going to take more than an apology to make it up to you.

It’s a few hours after the incident when you hear a knock at the door. “Coming!” You yell down the hall as you race to answer it. Seeing your kind smile fall when you realize it’s him, Eddie feels like you twisted a knife in his chest. He’s holding a modest bouquet of flowers towards you, gaze struggling to meet your own. “Well, look who it is.” You lean against the door frame, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve got some nerve, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie huffs a sigh, his breath visible in the frosty February evening. “I know. I know I don’t deserve to see you, but you deserve an apology. I came back to explain myself. Not that I had any right to do what I did.” He looks up at you from under his lashes. “Can I come in so we can talk?”

There’s a pout on your lips as you consider. The flowers do look very pretty, and he was thoughtful enough to have your favorite color as the centerpiece. Getting flowers last minute, on Valentine’s Day no less, was likely no easy feat, making the gesture more grand than usual. You hum in thought a moment before finally taking pity on the man practically groveling on your doorstep. “Fine.” You step aside to let him in, looking reluctant to do so. 

Relief washes over him as you make room. The warmth of your home felt like a welcoming embrace upon his bone chilled body. Once the door is closed, Eddie outstretches the bouquet towards you again. “Uh, these are for you.”

Doing your best not to show how pleased you are, you take the flowers from him wordlessly. Eddie turns to walk towards your living room, and you take the moment to smell the sweetness of them while he isn’t watching. You sit on the couch, laying the bouquet on the coffee table for the time being. 

Eddie continues to stand, feeling unworthy of your comforts. It feels reminiscent of when he first visited your home. The awkwardness of being new friends was evident as he stood in the corner, waiting for permission to sit on the couch or even enter the room. Now it’s like he wouldn’t sit even if you asked him to. Eddie preferred to pace while he talked. He has too much energy to expel to be still.

You give him your attention finally, arms crossed again, waiting for the apology he owes you. He clears his throat, hands nervously wringing together. “So first of all, I’m sorry for ruining your valentine. And your Valentine's day, for that matter. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He chuckles dryly, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “Shit, I wasn’t thinking at all. I just got caught up in my stupid bullshit. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. It was just-” You raise an eyebrow, not quite believing him yet. Eddie releases a breath like it was struggling to get out. “Seeing that valentine I made that everyone gave me shit for…” he sighs again, struggling to find the words. “It just brought it all back. I was a kid again being pointed and laughed at in front of everyone.” 

As he says this, your features soften when you recall what he’s talking about. You heard what some of the other kids were saying about Eddie’s valentines, but at the time you didn’t think he cared what they thought. He was always unapologetically himself to the point that the thought of Eddie being embarrassed or ashamed never even crossed your mind.

Eddie looks at you with a sad tilt of his head, wild curls bunching at his shoulder. “That doesn’t make it right, but I thought you ought to know why I did what I did.” He shakes his head dismissively. “It had nothing to do with you and I’m sorry I couldn’t control myself. I’m a fuckin’ idiot, sweetheart.” He smiles ruefully, “but you already knew that.” His eyes dim a little at his self-deprecation.

You nod in understanding, a small smile on your face. “I appreciate your apology.” You weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him just yet, and you wanted to be sure he realized that.

Although Eddie knew it wouldn’t be easy, he can’t help but feel disappointed he hadn’t earned your forgiveness yet. Regardless, he nods with a tight lipped smile in acceptance before reaching a hand into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. “I wanted to make it up to you,” he pulls an envelope out, “with this.” 

You blink owlishly at Eddie’s outstretched hand, surprised he brought more than flowers. Standing from the couch, you gingerly take the card from him, watching him for any signs of what it might be. 

As you open the package, Eddie is already explaining his reasoning. “Now, I know it’s not the same, and it doesn’t hold the same meaning as the original, but I tried my best to remake it for you.”

Pulling the card from the envelope, you gasp at what you find. The writing is much neater, the drawings more detailed, and even the paper feels like it’s made of thicker material, but there is no doubt that this is Eddie’s reconstruction of the card he destroyed. 

The premise of the card was the same. A penguin (your favorite animal at the time) wearing sunglasses, surrounded by icebergs with bubble letters saying ‘U R COOL’ after your name. The sketches are much more sophisticated than any nine year old could make. It was clear that Eddie had honed his art skills over the years by doodling in the margins of all his school work instead of paying attention in class. But it wasn’t what the card looked like that made it special. It was the thoughtful gesture itself. 

When you look back up at Eddie, he shifts on his feet uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. He’s unsure what to make of your expression. “So, uh. Do you like it?” Before you can answer, he’s already speaking for you with a defeated slump of his shoulders. “You hate it, don’t you? I’m sorry, I know it’s not-”

“I love it.”

His eyes go wide, genuinely surprised. “Yeah?” He perks up when he sees your beaming face. “Really?” Eddie lets out a small ‘oof’ when you crash into him with an enthusiastic hug. His chuckling rumbles against your ear as you hold him tightly. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Parting from the hug, you admire the valentine some more. “And I do forgive you, Eddie. I just wish you would have told me what Valentine’s Day really means to you sooner.” You search his dark chocolate eyes. “We’re friends, right? You know I would never make fun of you like that.”

And Eddie did know that, but in that moment, he couldn’t rationalize his intrusive thoughts away. It’s easier to hear that you’re loved versus actually believing it. All he can muster is a shrug, unable to put his inability to trust into words. “Yeah I know.”

With his unconvincing answer, you try a different approach to get him to understand what he means to you. Wordlessly, you leave the room leaving Eddie standing there wondering what you’re up to. You’re back before he gets the chance to overthink your departure, a picture frame in hand. As you fiddle with the tiny metal prongs holding the backing in place, you begin to explain. “From now on, I’m gonna make sure everyone sees this.” You slot the valentine into the frame before securing the backing once more. 

You hang your trophy in the center of your living room wall. Once you’re satisfied with the results, you take a step back and admire it with your hands on your hips. “There. Now, anytime someone visits me, I can brag to them about the personal valentine you made me.” Looking back over your shoulder, you see Eddie smirking bashfully.

“Oh come on. No one’s gonna want to see that.” He gestures to the hand drawn image, but you’re already shaking your head defiantly.

“Too bad. They’re gonna have to. Matter of fact, I’m gonna require they marvel at it for no less than 60 seconds before they can even enter my home.” Your arms are crossed with a playful smile on your face.

Eddie chuckles and there’s a small pause as he appreciates you. “You’re such a dork,” is his mumbled response.

You point up at the framed doodled penguin adorned in shades behind you with an astonishing amount of confidence. “Not according to my best friend.”

He huffs an exasperated sigh. “That’s it. I’m taking it back.” Eddie starts towards the wall, reaching above you. “You’re not cool anymore.” 

Instinctually, you put your hands on his chest in an attempt to stop him, but Eddie isn’t one to back down. “No! You can’t!” Giggles bubble out of you as you try your best to stand your ground. “I am cool!”

[aheckinmess]

Redamancy: A Mighty Valentine's Day

Part of @prominencesmashers Valentine's gift exchange! @actuallysaiyan was my valentine! I hope it fills your heart with so much joy!

Read on AO3.

Tags: Toshinori Yagi, All Might, Smol Might, Small Might, Reader, All Might-centric, Fluff, A Little Angst, And Everything in Between!, Nemuri Kayama Mentioned, Shouta Aizawa, Eraserhead, Hizashi Yamada, Present Mic, Thirteen Mentioned, All Might x Reader, Present Mic x Thirteen, The Three Dumbigos Included, Toshinori is Bad at Feelings, 5 + 1 fic, The five times Toshinori tried to confess his feelings to you, + the 1 time he succeeded, Gift Fic, Prominence Smash Valentine's Day

Word Count: 4,200 words

Summary: Valentine's Day is right around the corner, and Toshinori wants to admit his feelings for you before it's too late! Though he's got the spirit, he'll quickly learn that life knows how to throw some unexpected curveballs. Does that stop the Symbol of Peace? Absolutely not. OR The 5 times Toshinori tries to confess his feelings to you, and the one time he succeeds.

Author's Note: I've given the reader the name "Yin" (for, Your Name) and "Lyn" (for, Last Name) because I think it looks better than writing "Y/N," "L/N," "Name," or any other alternatives.

Attempt No. 1

All Might can do anything.

No matter how dire the situation, no matter how impossible the odds, no matter how strong his opponent, All Might perseveres and always comes out on top with a mighty fist raised high. 

Toshinori, on the other hand, is beside himself trying to wrangle the tangled knot of feelings in his chest. Valentine’s Day is right around the corner and he’s determined to ask you out before Snipe tries pulling out his rugged cowboy charms on you.

Considering he has zero experience with women and little to go off of aside from Midnight’s salacious soliloquies, he opts for a more classical option: flowers – which is why he’s currently thumbing through a bouquet catalogue with the local florist.

“And you said this one will be sure to catch her attention?” He points in the catalogue at a colorful arrangement themed with red, white, and pink flowers. 

“Oh, certainly!” The lady beams as she ties a bow around the stems of another bundle. “She’ll know what you’re trying to say for sure. This bouquet is well known in this area as the Matchmaker.”

“It is? Perfect! I’ll take these then.”

. . . . .

Toshinori sets up a time for the two of you to meet in the park as the venue for his timely confession. The wait for the bouquet isn’t bad, but actually having it in his hands prompts the Symbol of Peace to start pacing. Over and over he runs through what he’ll say, fumbling over his words even as he mutters them to himself. After a few moments, however, he’s worried he’ll ruin the bouquet and takes deep, cleansing breaths to center himself and pause.

Just be honest, like Aizawa said.

By the time he makes it to the meeting place in the park, he’s at his wit’s end. Facing villains suddenly seems much easier than this.

“Hello, my dear.” He plasters on a smile as his hands shake around the bundle of flowers behind his back. “I’m glad we could meet today.”

“Toshinori! I’m glad, too! It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper hang out.” The way your face lights up erases every single thought and essay he’d prepared this morning and the night prior. “What’s that you’ve got behind you? Is it a present for me?”

“Yes! W-Well, it’s nothing much. Just–”

BOOM!

An explosion rattles the ground beneath you both and screams in the distance send All Might on autopilot. If only he could think to hand you the damn bouquet in the meantime. 

But no. Instead, his fist tightens around it as he turns to you with frantic, blue eyes.

“Don’t move! Stay safe right here and I’ll go check it out!” He instructs.

The flowers disintegrate the moment he zooms in the direction of the blast, two blocks over. With a growl, he leaves them crumpled in the nearest blue bin as he sets his sights on the large bank robber sporting a hockey mask and massive paws. 

“You look like you could use a full serving of justice !” All Might laughs, whizzing over to the bank thief in record time, hoisting him up by the collar.

“A-All Might?! What are you doing in this district?!” The man squirms in the No. 1 hero’s grasp.

“My ears are always alert to the sound of villainy, no matter the distance!”

The bank robber is quickly subdued, as well as his lackeys trickling out of the bank behind him. By the time the cops arrive, a large group of grateful bank tellers and gawking civilians gather to watch their Symbol of Peace usher the culprits into the back of a police cruiser.

“Your finances are secure now…because I am here !” He grins wide while sporting a thumbs up.

When the cameras begin flashing, All Might knows he has to make a quick escape if he wants to conserve energy. “Thank you all for your continued support!”

In a flurry of wind, he jumps up to find the park again and stares at his empty palm. Damn. So much for the bouquet. His eyes land on the park and he drifts closer to the ground when another scream fills his ears.

“HELP!” A voice shrieks another block over. “Somebody help me!” 

Adjusting his course, All Might lands behind the offender, eyes glistening with determination and exuding a blue aura of menace as his feet stomp against the asphalt.

“Taking what doesn’t belong to you, hm? Looks like someone failed to teach you boundaries!” All Might’s dark smile paralyzes the fiend holding a stolen purse.

“All Might!” The victim chokes on a sob. “Thank you, oh, thank you!”

“Have no fear, ma’am. For I am here !” 

. . . . .

One hour turned to two until All Might’s watch flashes 12:00. He groans when he makes it back to the park and sees you’ve already left. To top things off, he’s used all but one hour of his energy, so he finds an alleyway to transform back to normal in a puff of steam. Shit.

He opts to walk home, having nothing else on the docket for the day and needing a much needed nap. On his way, he pulls out his cellphone.

I’m so sorry, Yin. Can we reschedule another meeting time and place? He sends the message all while kicking himself for the missed opportunity.

But what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave others in harm’s way for a date. What might have happened if I hadn’t intervened? His mind wanders and worries until your text tone jingles in his ear.

Of course! I understand, Toshi. I had a meeting at noon, or I would have kept waiting for you. So don’t worry!

Toshinori sighs, both reassured and deflated at the sight of your message.

I’ll just have to set up another meeting and try to tell her again.

---------------------

Attempt No. 2

“You’re trying to confess to Lyn?” Hizashi doesn’t know ‘quiet.’ He simply can’t help himself as he walks with Toshinori to the nearest arcade and whoops, “My MAAANN!”

“Shh! She’ll hear you!” Toshinori hisses, eying the arcade and feeling his ears ring. “Is there a subtle way I can let her know how I feel?”

“You’re talking to the King of Courting himself, Mr. Yagi!” Hizashi laughs. “But in all seriousness, it’s all about being honest and poetic. Her eyes aren’t just beautiful, they’re…” Hizashi gestures for Toshinori to complete the phrase.

“...exquisite?” Toshinori rubs the back of his neck.

“No! Well, yes, but you’ve gotta dig deep, man! Her eyes aren’t just beautiful, they sparkle like a million stars! Her smile isn’t just radiant, it…”

“...puts the sun to shame?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Hizashi exclaims as they step into the glowing arcade. “Good luck, good buddy! Just speak from the heart.”

With a clap on Toshinori’s shoulder, Hizashi disappears towards a group that is unmistakably Aizawa, Kayama, and Shirakumo. Now, Toshinori is left to find you himself, so he takes a deep breath as his eyes skim the many different game systems while brainstorming different compliments to give you.

As soon as his eyes find you, however, all flirtatious comments vaporize from his mind. Not one coherent thought remains when you turn to him with a wide grin sporting an All Might dress completed with white leggings.

Ten silent seconds pass by, and then your cheeks turn rosy while he stands ogling like an oaf.

“I’m sorry. Is this too weird to you? I almost talked myself out of wearing it. I figured it was too weird or fangirly, but I’d been hoping it seemed more appreciative…”

“No, no! You look amazing! It looks better on you than it does on me!” Toshinori blurts, his own face exploding in shades of red. “N-Not that I’d wear that…I meant my colors…or um, ah. I-I just didn’t expect it to look so perfect on you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous now.” You snicker, finding him endearing. “Come on. Let’s go see if anyone has beaten our high score on Galaga.”

The bells and whistles of pinball machines mingle with speaker sounds of gunfire, space blasters, and racecars screeching around a pixelated track. As it turns out, you reach Galaga and a new set of initials sits at the top of the leaderboard.

“Oh, no way! This means war!” You pretend to roll up your sleeves before pulling back your hair and grinning up at Toshinori. “We’ll reclaim the title!”

“With your spirit and determination? It is impossible to lose!”

. . . . .

You’re far too gracious, in Toshinori’s opinion, when you type his initials as the “New High Score!” icon flashes celebratory gold. Even though he urges you to take credit where it’s due – he didn’t even touch the console! – you dismiss him with a wave and nudge his shoulder.

“What’s important is that we have fun together.” You laugh, leaning your head on his arm and looking up at him with wide, dazzling eyes. “Don’t you agree?”

Toshinori can’t possibly refute it. Just your expression alone clasps his heart in an iron-grip. He knows in that moment he would do anything for you; you make Toshinori feel just as valuable as All Might. 

Like he could do anything no matter how dire the situation, no matter how impossible the odds, no matter how strong his opponent.

You make him feel like living .

This is the moment. He’s sure of it.

“Yin,” He begins, clearing his throat. “Do you think maybe we could–”

“Oh my gosh, Yin! Hey!” A girlish voice screeches and suddenly he’s torn apart from you. 

The moment fades as a sinking feeling is ushered into his gut. Of course, he delights in seeing you so happy reuniting with some old friends, but he can’t help but believe he’s missed his chance. One glance around the arcade shows him an entire dating pool entirely in your league and out of his. Could you possibly even want him? 

“Toshi?” Your voice breaks through his spiraling internal monologue.

“Hm?”

“You don’t mind if I hang out with them for a bit, right? You can tag along if you’d like. It’s just been so long since I’ve seen them.” You reach across and squeeze his hand.

“You go have fun.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I have matters to attend to anyway, so it all works out. Be safe, wherever you decide to go.”

“Thank you.” You surprise him by rushing into his side for a swift hug. He can only stand there, semi-startled as he blinks and you pull back. “Text me if you need anything.”

“Likewise.”

-----------------------

Attempt No. 3

When you invite Toshinori out for a picnic three days later, he’s determined to suppress his feelings after two bitter failures. Or perhaps just letting his emotions bubble up to the surface naturally will yield better results than his previous two attempts?

That doesn’t mean Toshinori slacks in putting together his appearance, however. Normally wily locks of blonde hair have been tamed flat against his temple, complimented by a silky yellow button-up that accentuates his lanky frame. Pressed brown trousers lead into sleek dark loafers.

With one final look in the mirror and a glance at his watch, Toshinori hops up and down a few times to hype himself up before grabbing his phone, his keys, and starting a brisk jog to the beach. Come on. You’re the Symbol of Peace! You can have a cordial picnic with the woman you secretly adore.

Your blanket and large beach umbrella is impossible to miss on the searing sand. You’ve set up a dark wicker basket on a plaid blanket as you lay back in a lounge chair to soak up the sun. When you hear Toshinori approach, you crack open an eyelid with a shit-eating grin.

“Toshinori, you will never guess what I learned yesterday.”

Something about the way you’re looking at him prompts him to loosen another button on his shirt – or maybe he’s just winded from the jog over. 

“What’s that?”

You pull out a folder and open it, revealing a weathered news article with a picture of All Might face-planting into the streets of Shibuya. Immediately, Toshinori grimaces at the memory and turns to look at the ocean instead.

With a hefty sigh he grunts, “Okay, you’ve got your blackmail, what do you want?”

Laughter bubbles from your chest and you fall back against the lounge chair, pulling your sun hat over your face to muffle the snorting that follows.

“I don’t want anything!” You cackle. “I just thought it was funny! You’re always portrayed as this big hero who never misses a beat, never trips over his own feet; it’s nice to appreciate your humanity every now and then. I think it’s endearing. It makes you more approachable.”

“I’m not sure eating pavement would qualify as approachable.” Toshinori scoffs, taking a bite of strawberry as you both enjoy each other’s company.

“You don’t know that. Maybe someone with a really weird quirk out there has this very news clipping taped up in their room!” You taunt, ruffling his neat and tidy hair.

“Hey!”

“What? It’s too flat. I prefer it more when it’s a fluffy mess.” You shrug.

“I…wait, really?” He pats his hair and combs four large fingers through the wispy strands. “I didn’t know. I thought maybe I’d try to tame it since we were having a nice picnic – it seemed a formal enough occasion to me.”

“Toshi, I’ve seen you hold press conferences with a messier style.”

“Yes, but…I don’t know! I just wanted to see if maybe you’d like it better flattened down.” He grants you a smile. “But I’m glad you like it messy. It was starting to get suffocating.”

“No need to act out of your comfort zone for my sake.” You giggle, setting your chin on your palm as you smirk at him. “Though I’m flattered you did all of that for me.”

Toshinori meets your eyes and he wonders if he should seize this opportunity. This time, he just manages to open up his mouth when a gust of wind sends your hat flying across the beach and soaring towards the crashing waves.

“Ah! My hat!” You lurch up to run after it with Toshinori quickly taking point beside you.

Sand showers between the two of you as the hat glides and flutters on a different course every few seconds, always a fingertip away from your grasp. Toshinori nearly secures the prize when he trips and, in a fit of irony, lands face first in the sand.

He lifts his head, sputtering and spitting out grains of sand as you fall back, hat in hand, howling and holding your sides as you’re overcome with mirth. Once you calm down, belly still shaking with aftershocks of giggles, you help him blow out the remaining debris in his eyes.

“Thank you.” He exhales, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all while he dries his eyes on his shirt. “We speak of this to no one.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m keeping this experience all to myself.”

------------------------

Attempt No. 4

One week remains until Valentine’s, and Toshinori knows that if he wants to stand a chance in hell at getting heartfelt chocolates from you, he needs to step up his game. He’s tried flowers, he’s tried flirting, he’s tried a friendly outing on the beach, and now he’s got to resort back to basics again: dinner.

He follows the proper procedure, toeing the line between continued friendship and secret admirer as he holds your chair out for you and tells you how radiant you look this evening. 

“You’re a lifesaver, Toshi. This week has been insane and I need a good meal.”

Once he pushes your seat in, you roll your neck around and allow your muscles to relax and settle. The way your shoulders slump and your face smooths out leaves no question in Toshinori’s mind that tonight is the right decision.

“I’m glad to be of assistance. You’ve been looking overworked.” He admits, sipping from his water glass before the waiter comes to take his order. “Is there anything specific that’s been weighing on you? I-If you feel comfortable sharing, of course.”

You don’t miss a beat.

“Ugh, it’s just the kids have been crazy , lately. I swear there’s a full moon on the horizon.” You lean forward on the table as you invest yourself in the conversation. “Most of them are starting to understand press conference etiquette and I can see their progress. It’s just, I think they know the break is coming up and it doesn’t help that I’m at my wit’s end and getting burnt out.” 

Both of you pause as the waiter sets your orders in front of you. Toshinori waits for you to continue, except you’ve already dug into your meal. He chuckles when your eyes roll around in your head.

“I’m glad you like it. This place has udon that’s out of this world.”

“If I weren’t already so emotionally pent up, I would cry.” You admit between bites. 

Enraptured by your every word – and thoroughly impressed with his food – Toshinori sits across from you for an agreeable meal, offering himself as your ranting soundboard since you seem to need the release. Once he’s paid after dessert, the two of you stroll arm in arm towards your apartment. 

“I hope I didn’t steal the spotlight this evening.” Your hair curtains your blushing cheeks as you stare at your feet. “I didn’t intend to go on a whole tirade. You know you’re allowed to do the same thing with me, right?”

“Of course. My week has been amiable, and this week you needed me. So, I’m more than happy to be a safe place for you to fall.” He stretches a hand out to rest at your back, but clenches his fist as he thinks better of it and never makes contact. He stops outside your door while you fumble with your keys. “Have a good night, Yin. I,”  adore everything about you “hope you rest well and feel refreshed in the morning.”

As your gazes finally meet, unspoken tension crackles in the air. You rock forward on your toes and part your lips. Toshinori’s lashes flutter and cranes his neck toward you. Then, you tuck under his arm and squeeze him in a hug instead.

“Thanks for everything, Toshinori. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-----------------------

Attempt No. 5

Empty cupboards and a scarcely filled fridge convince Toshinori to make a grocery trip after a fruitless search for eggs. The removal of the majority of his stomach might have shrunk his appetite, but didn’t erase it. He’s scouring the aisles when a flash of orange blossoms in his peripheral vision.

He lays eyes on a cute Valentine’s bear that he tosses into his basket without hesitation.

Hey, Yin! I was in town and figured I’d swing by, if that’s okay? I found something that made me think of you and I’d like to drop it off. Toshinori uses his white tee to clear the smudge from his screen as the grocery bags rattle on his arm.

Now free from the stuffy atmosphere in the store, he glides through the streets of Japan, bobbing and weaving through the clogged crowds in a race to reach your apartment. He’s just outside the door when your text tone chirps in his ear.

Hey, Toshi. I hate to tell you this, but I’m sick. Feel free to stop by if you’d like, but I don’t want you getting sick, too. Thank you so much for thinking of me!

Could this be it? His perfect chance to take care of you and demonstrate his affections, served up to him on a silver platter? Toshinori can hardly believe it, but he knocks on your door and steps inside anyway when you bid him to come in.

The pitiful display in front of him tugs at his heart, and he finds himself on autopilot when he sets down his grocery bags and strides over to press his palm to your forehead as you lay buried underneath a mountain of blankets on the sofa.

“You’re hot. Have you taken a fever reducer?” He chides, combing back a sweaty lock of hair. 

“Yeah, just a minute ago.” You reassure him, caressing his hand while leaning into his palm. “Don’t stay long if you don’t have to, Toshi, I can take care of myself. I don’t want to make you sick.” 

“Nonsense. I’ll be fine. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.” He tuts, shaking his head before remembering why he initially came in the first place. “Oh! That’s right, I’ve got something for you.”

He pulls out the orange bear with hearts sewn into his feet and a larger, matching heart tattooed into his tummy. The large golden text on his belly declares, “FUR-EVER YOURS.”

“Aww, Toshi! You didn’t have to do that.” You squeal, forgetting yourself for a moment and coughing so hard your chest aches. “Sorry about that. I love him. I’ll let you know what I name him when I’m coherent enough to give him a proper name.”

“I’m glad you like him!” Toshinori perks up, heading into your kitchen to search for tea-making equipment. “Would you like me to make you some tea for that cough?”

“That would be heavenly.”

You’re nearly fading when he returns with a steaming mug of ginger tea, complete with honey and lemon to help your, presumably, sore throat. Though your eyes fight to stay open, you have no problem taking the mug and setting it on the side table nearby.

“Thank you so much. I can’t stress enough how lucky I am to have you.” You sigh, readjusting your head against the pillows and succumbing to the heavy weight of your eyelids. “Lock the door behind you when you go, ‘kay?”

“I will.” He promises.

In another breath, you’re snoring, and since you appear fully submerged in your dreamland, he risks a kiss to your forehead before he leaves.

------------------------

Attempt No. 6

Over the course of the month, it’s become obvious to you that Toshinori is interested in you. Well, at least, you think so. The bashful comments, attempted gifts, and overall pleasant moods and outings you’ve shared within these two weeks guide you to one, daunting and exhilarating conclusion: your affection for Toshinori seems like a mutual one.

So, with the might of a thousand suns and the determination of an Olympic gold medalist, you pour all of your efforts into making him one of the best, and only, heartfelt chocolates you’ve ever made. You try the recipe not once, not twice, but three times to make sure they’re as delectable as possible. 

By the time you make it to the staff room on Valentine’s Day, your stomach ties itself in knots as the limited number of females exchange their own chocolates. Recovery Girl has polite chocolate for everyone that’s wrapped in cute, pink little mesh bags. Thirteen offers some heartfelt chocolate to Present Mic with blushing cheeks over in the corner, while Midnight offers a small bag of cheese to Hound Dog. 

“You giving Toshinori some heartfelt chocolate, Lyn?” Aizawa asks and scares the shit out of you in the process.

“I’m…gonna try.” You hope you sound more confident than you feel.

“Good for you.” It’s as much encouragement as you’ll get from the erasure hero. “For what it’s worth, I’m hoping I’ll get some from the librarian.”

“Oh, really? How sweet!” You beam, before turning to find Toshinori. “I’m going to go find–eep!”

The tall behemoth in question stands in front of you, blonde hair wily and fluffy as always. A plot twist you hadn’t expected? In his hands, he holds his own package of chocolates.

“Yin,” He greets you. “I know it’s not traditional for the guy to give chocolates until next month but…” He extends the small package of chocolates with shaky fingers. “I hope you’ll accept this as an expression of my affections.”

You accept the package and exchange it for your own, wrapped in his signature colors. He takes it and your smile illuminates the room so much it could be a new point of orbit.

“I have some for you too, Toshinori. I wanted to make sure they were perfect for you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time, but it never felt like the right time.” You confess, looking away.

His large hand comes under your chin to make you look at his luminous eyes, blue and twinkling in the light from the window. 

“I guess the right time found us, then.” He laughs, glancing down at your lips and back up to your eyes. “May I?”

“Please.”

Your hand comes up to rest on his chest like it was always meant to be there. His thumb caresses your neck so tenderly, as though he’s done it a thousand times before. Electricity sparks between the two of you even before your lips ever touch, and the world falls away in a swirl of desire and unrestrained need. 

In the quiet sanctuary of Toshinori’s cubicle, after immense effort and copious failed attempts, you both indulge in the shared reward of a final, successful confession.

[sombrashe]

2 random relationship headcanons ∿ team thanos

suggestive

✐ᝰlets you take a hit of his vape in the middle of sex. doesn't matter if he's fucking into you or if you're bouncing on his lap. he's grabbing his vape off the bedside box and blowing smoke in your face

"Quit it, Choi."

"Harsh... want a hit? It's cherry lime."

"Sounds awful."

"You say that to everything."

"That's because blue raspberry is the only flavor."

✐ᝰrolls a blunt on your lower back as you're scrolling. swatting at your ass when you laugh too hard and shake some of the bud loose. he finishes it off by keeping his tongue out too long and licking a stripe from the blunt to your side.

"Ew, Su-bong. What have I said about the licking?"

"That you love it and want me to do it."

"I get enough weed stench on me being in your presence. I don't need it embedded into my skin."

"Boring."

✐ᝰbrings home random pills he's collected throughout his shift at the club and expects you to take them with him. you always question every little thing about the pill. all he has to do is taking a quick look and knows exactly what it is.

"That's ecstasy. It's an upper."

"So I'll get like super depressed after?"

"Yeah, but I'll be here. It's fun."

"I hallucinate, right?"

"That's one of the symptoms, yeah"

✐ᝰdoes your nails because he's dead broke. He wishes he could buy you those cute sets you always linger on when online browsing. He found some nail sets on temu and went to a beauty store to buy nail supplies. he kept these hidden while he watched video after video about how to properly do nails.

"Where did you learn this?"

"YouTube."

"Why?"

"Bored."

✐ᝰdyes your hair so long as you agree to go with her when she gets a new piercing. she loves seeing all the different colors you've gone through. she especially loves how you just make shit up, mixing emerald pixie and frozen cotton candy and naming the teal color frozen pixie candy. amazing

"What color are we doing next?"

"I don't know. Any ideas?"

"What about pink. You always look so cute in pink."

"Pervert."

"I didn't even say anything."

✐ᝰrants to you about her day, everyday. at first it was frustrating, it seemed like all she did was complain. the more you bit your tongue and listened you slowly came to realize she needed a new job. immediately. what kind of boss says those things??

"You need to quit."

"I can't just quit."

"I make enough to hold us over until you find another job."

"But we would have to cut down a lot."

"I will do whatever you need."

✐ᝰblushes when you offer to go down on him. you don't do it often since he normally initiates but the few times you do offer his face turns beat red. it always starts at the tip of his ears, moves over to the apples of his cheeks, and ends splattered across his cheat like a renaissance painting.

"You're so red, Min-su."

"Don't tease me."

"I'm not! I promise, I think it's cute. Sexy even."

"Uh-huh."

"No really, It shows how turned on I make you."

✐ᝰgenuinely giggles. anytime you get the upper hand during wrestling you stick your fingers right under his chin and start tickling. at first he lets out a sharp laugh. something harsh that is accompanied by kicks. when it really starts getting to be too much he starts giggling uncontrollably.

"Stop. Stop. Too much."

"Say it. Say I'm the champion."

"You're-."

"Min-su."

"You won. You're the champion. Now stop, please. I can't breathe."

✐ᝰwatches you whenever you're not looking. He feels like a creep doing it but you're just so gorgeous. Absolutely ethereal and he physically can't keep his eyes off of you. He does it so often he ends up spacing out and you have to raise your voice to snap him out of it.

"Gyeong-su? Gyeong-su!"

"What?"

"Have you heard a single thing I said?"

"What did you say?"

"Unbelievable."

✐ᝰhypes you up any chance he gets. just woke up and need nothing more than a shower? God, baby, you look so good. putting the finishing touches on your makeup before a night out? Wow, you're breathtaking. when you're facedown and his lips are inches from the shell of your ear? Amazing how I get to call you mine.

"Which shirt with these pants?"

"You look amazing in both."

"That's not helpful Gyeong-su."

"But it's the truth."

"Then lie."

[imsofreakingtired]

I saw a request about anorexia comfort and I just wanted to ask could I possibly ask for sevika x reader bulimia comfort? That’s what I struggle with so I just wanted to request that.

If not that’s totally okay and thank you!

-🖤🖤🖤

all my love and support to you 💙 please let me know if any of this is inaccurate, offensive, or upsetting - i drew from a combination of my own past experiences with an ed and external research. and thank you for the request; i know struggling with an ed can be an isolating experience and i really hope this brings at least a little comfort 💙 💙 💙 💙

disclaimer: not meant to be an alternative to therapy obviously!! please reach out for support, i know it's hard but i believe you can do it loves <33 and as always if this content may be triggering to you, please scroll away and take care!!

breathe

content warning(s): depictions of an ed, body dysmorphia, heavy angst, hurt/comfort

"days pull you down just like a sinking ship memories swim and haunt you but look into the lake, shimmering like smoke rises the moon oh, close your weary eyes, i promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken fading summer skies breathe, breathe, breathe."

~~~

Sevika is not alarmed when you tell her about your eating disorder, which you reveal after you have been seeing her for nearly a month. she does not judge you. she has noticed the signs already, but didn’t want to assume anything, bring it up before you did. Sevika remembers the darkest period of her life: sixteen and feeling like the world played her like a marionette, when the stress of her environment triggered her binges. then the guilt. then the self-loathing. then the desperate need to erase what she had done. she remembers lifting for hours until her arms gave out. running 5 miles a day in a sweat suit. tracking calories. balancing food on scales. when you tell her you are going through the same thing, her heart sinks. she had been hoping her instincts were wrong. she had been hoping against hope, because she knows how hard it is.  

⟢🖤⟢ her fear for you, her worries about your health, sometimes manifests in ways she doesn’t mean to. she has never backed away from honest conversations. she asks you up front: have you eaten? have you thrown up? she can tell immediately if you lie to her about it, and it hurts her to think that you’re unwilling to tell her the truth, be open about it to her. sometimes her frustration at herself for being unable to help you causes her to be harsher. she tries sitting you down and telling you that what you��re doing will hurt you badly. she can’t stand being away from you for too long, she can barely sleep at night, wondering if you’re binging again, wondering if you’re punishing yourself again.   

⟢🖤⟢

she silently keeps track of the physical signs. she sees you sizing up every plate of food. she sees you obsessively reading the nutrition labels. she sees how you avoid going out to eat with people, how you always opt for something different for date nights, anything that isn’t eating together. she sees your exhaustion, the swelling in your face. you can hide it from everyone else—you can hide it from the world—but Sevika loves you too much to let a single detail escape her. 

⟢🖤⟢

beats herself up honestly, especially after realizing that sometimes she could be a trigger—an offhand word, a change in her tone, a spike of irritation. you don’t blame her for this: everyone has their bad days, and sometimes the two of you argue. she wishes she could do more for you, wishing she could take away the thoughts that cause you to spiral and hurt yourself. 

⟢🖤⟢

Sevika is confounded at first when you tell her candidly about your issues with body image, because to her you are the most beautiful perfect being who ever existed. it makes her furious at whatever caused you to think otherwise. maybe it was a history of bullying at school. maybe it was your mother’s thoughtless comments on your body. maybe it was the media, constantly telling you that your body is imperfect. maybe it is not your body at all, but the sense of control and discipline that comes from regulating the food, the erasure of food. Sevika’s first response is always to fight. she’s sworn to herself that she will protect you from the world, that she can keep you safe by the strength of her fists. but when the threat is something untouchable, something inside your head, she feels helpless. so she becomes more physically protective than ever. calling you several times a day just to hear your voice. kissing you, touching you, holding you more often, as if to reassure you of how much she adores you.   

⟢🖤⟢

she picks up on your triggers for b/p cycles and does her best to interfere with them. she notices that your routine is to restrict throughout the day, return home, where the stress and hunger of the day triggers a binge. so she shows up at your door around the same time you return home and asks if you want to go on a walk. if you’re too tired, she stays with you and makes you soup. if you say you can’t eat it, she will not pressure you. but she stays, thinking maybe if she’s there to watch over you, she can keep you from going into the cycle again.

⟢🖤⟢

there are stretches of time where you leave the cycle. Sevika marks the days on slips of paper to keep track of your progress and gives them to you with a proud look in her eyes. you don’t want to relapse for her sake, but you’re also terrified of recovering completely. you’re scared that if you let yourself recover, your body will change—it will gain back the weight you have been controlling, and you’re scared Sevika will not find you attractive anymore. one night you give into the thoughts. and when Sevika finds you on the bathroom floor, hovering over the toilet bowl, she says nothing but pulls you into her arms. 

i’m sorry, you whisper. 

shh. it’s okay, sweet thing. just breathe. 

she brings you water and rubs your back as you drink it. you wonder what you look like to her. you wonder if she is already planning to leave. another apology rises to your lips but you swallow it. Sevika doesn’t say anything for a long time, she just sits with you. then in a low voice, she speaks. 

i used to have the same habit. 

you look at her in surprise. 

yeah, she says, with a deep sigh. god, it was a million years ago, but i still remember those days. i’d sneak down into the kitchen when my parents were asleep. ate anything i could find. then punished myself the next day. 

her hand finds your knee, bent against your chest as you curl into yourself tightly. her warm grip grounds you. i’m telling you this because i want you to know… she pauses. …that i get it. 

you tell her, i’m scared. 

i know, baby. 

you say, i might change. you might not want me anymore. 

she looks you in the eyes. brushes the hair away from your face, leans forward, and gives you a long kiss on your forehead. you’re perfect, she says, her voice rough. you hear me? i will always, always want you. every shape. every side of you. 

a sob breaks from your lips. you lean into her, and she cradles your body with her own. kissing your hair, she gives you a promise. 

it’s not easy. but i’ll be with you the entire way. every damn step.

⟢🖤⟢

-thank you @hexthathoe for the req <3

-divider by @enchanthings-a

[bambi-kinos]

Dakota Days Review

I got an ask requesting I post the Dakota Days review. The rest of the ask will be mega long so I don't want to just add on the review to the end and make it an even bigger read. So I'm posting this as its own free-floating thing.

So my deal is that in 2023 and 2024 I had enough time on my hands that I read a shitton of Beatle books (including most of the books in my big recommendation post, which I am still thinking about updating so keep in mind it hasn't achieved its final form.) I regularly talk these over with a friend and this review is mostly what I told her when she asked if she should read it or not. Either this will sell you on the book or it will not lol. I did some light editing for readability but otherwise it is mostly intact from the original post date February 13, 2023....good God, 2 fucking years ago!

Okay so Dakota Days. It's an account of John Green, also known as Charlie Swan who was a tarot reader that was close to the Lennons following John's return from his Lost Weekend.

Charlie states from the start that he is only trying to impart a snapshot of what it was like to live with John and Yoko during this time. He straight up admits that he has edited out certain parts of it to respect their privacy (and to cover his own ass as he did his fair share of scamming Yoko during this period.) He also straight up admits that he smushed together many years, events, and conversations in the book. He explains this very sensibly: while he claims a prodigious memory (which will prove not to be the case) he also says that he just spent too many years in John and Yoko's employment to recount all of them without boring the reader.

This is a very effective tactic. Charlie is deliberately telling us something that he is doing (editing the accounts of what happened) because it will make us trust him more. Being honest about misdoings you've done or will do tends to get people to like you more. This is what con artists do when they are trying to get people to fall for their schemes: they will tell you what they are doing and then they will do it. It is effective because it works. Charlie tells us that he is either misremembering or covering his own ass and because he does this we like him, which primes us to accept everything he says.

Charlie gets called up by Yoko only a few hours after John drags home. She renames him Charlie Swan because she knows John will be jealous of him having the same name. Charlie goes along with it because he knows Yoko is an easy mark; he claims in the text that he found John at Disney World of all places and that this is how Yoko ended the long weekend. Considering this is not how it happened we can guess that what Charlie actually did was pull the wool over Yoko's eyes and then claim credit for it. Again, a very effective tactic.

What happens next is really interesting: John feigns being poisoned. He's told Yoko that May poisoned him in his tea. Charlie reads the cards and they tell him "no way was John poisoned" and John leverages this to get Yoko out of the room. John picks Charlie's brain about the occult for a while and then lets him go home after a few hours.

Won't recount everything that happens next but I will say this: Dakota Days is the second half of the story about John's Dakota years and it compliments Fred's book perfectly. Fred depicted a manic John and a cold, distant Yoko. Charlie depicts a depressive John and an anxious Yoko in desperate need of hand holding at every single stage in her life. The amount of time and money that John and Yoko spend on con artists like Charlie as well as their other astrologers, mystics, and Korean herb healers is astounding. They were completely and utterly paralyzed with terror if they had to make decisions on their own. Indecisive, fretful, worried, anxious, Yoko straight up has a panic attack at one point because Charlie orders her to make a decision on her own and she almost dissolves into tears because she can't do it.

The funny part is I find none of these depictions at odd with one another. Yoko's imperious mask always hid the frightened baby underneath and John's aggressive ego always hid the broken hearted lover who wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Yoko didn't give Fred an "in" because he was a servant but she feared and respected Charlie so she could afford to be a broken little girl in front of him. John respected Charlie as a magician and hung on his every word. He didn't see a point in pretending to be something he wasn't like he did with Fred.

Charlie's big thing in the book is that he depicts himself as Spitting Straight Facts at John and Yoko. He condenses these into different conversations. For example, at one point Yoko takes John to Japan for a few months because she wants to convince him to live there full time. All of their clothes are packed according to what Charlie's tarot cards tell them are lucky to take. Yoko asks him to cast spells to keep John in a good mood. They plan out their journey to follow certain directions based on Japanese numerology that calculates the luck of cardinal directions. (Charlie cheerfully admits that this is outside of his education so he can't give an opinion on it. This is part of his set up, he doesn't have a problem admitting his weaknesses which makes him come off as more honest than he really is.)

It all goes wrong within two weeks: John hates Japan. Absolutely hates it. He hates having to entertain Yoko's family. He hates the hotels they are in. Yoko calls Charlie on the verge of tears and tells him that John is humiliating her in front of her family -- apparently Yoko's mother and sister called Yoko out on her bullshit and they accused her of accomplishing nothing with her art. (Holy shit, based?!) Yoko is desperate for John's wealth and status to impress her mother and tells Charlie, "I know what they say about me, they say that all I did was marry John and spend his money!" Which is of course absolutely true.

Yoko is desperate to win her mother's favor because she wants Sean to get a sizable piece of the inheritance but she was so disgusted with Yoko that she wouldn't even acknowledge Sean. (Brutal.) Yoko takes this personally because her sister Setsuko married a Westerner, a diplomat, and Yoko dissolves into hysterics over the phone demanding that Charlie tarot read for new, luckier clothes and have them air mailed to them. As far as I know, Charlie did it because it was an order and Yoko was paying his bills.

It gets worse though because John starts shuffling around like a zombie, moaning, whacking his head against the walls, etc. He tells Charlie that he's pretending to be dead. (I actually think I know what John was doing -- he probably absorbed some of Japan's pop culture about ghosts and he started imitating it.) This freaks out Yoko's family and her mother asked what the hell she was doing bringing this fucked up white guy to Japan. Charlie depicts himself as being the only person John can vent to which is something that I actually believe even though it probably didn't go down in precisely this way.

When Yoko tells John that they're going home soon, John perks up. He starts wooing Yoko's mother and makes nice with her. The funny part is that after all that, John actually succeeded in making Yoko's mother like him! Of course Yoko calls Charlie, again almost in tears, and tells him "John is doing it all wrong, he's being friendly with her, he's not holding her at a distance, he's buying her things and taking her out to fancy eateries!" Yoko is depicted as flat out hysterical in this conversation, enraged and upset that John charmed his way into her mother's good graces instead of making her submit by being ice cold and imperious (aka acting like Mimi) which dissolves her into anguish. And then, at the end of it all, Charlie says that Yoko is being ridiculous and it's a good thing that John is finally getting along with her mother. (Hittin' hard with that street wisdom!) Yoko is very bitter in response. After that chapter I thought, "man Charlie is putting up with a lot huh."

The entire book goes this way. It depicts a John that will make grand gestures towards Yoko (he has Charlie perform a "druidic" marriage ceremony to reaffirm his marriage to Yoko and Charlie has a GREAT time making shit up and forcing John to gather all this bullshit stuff that has nothing to do with Celtic traditions, Charlie's account is so so gleeful about making John dance like a monkey) but actively loathes her the rest of the time. Charlie outright states that their relationship is unhappy.

For example, when Sean was born, John was crazy with worry and made up the Dakota to be more comfortable for Yoko and the baby. But when Yoko finally came home she immediately handed Sean to the nanny (which John HATED, he tried to make her pick Sean back up because he was so upset) and went to her room after a huge fight with John. John then sat down with Charlie and bitterly vented about the fact that he knew Yoko didn't appreciate him and that he was furious that she smoked through her pregnancy and that she wasn't interested in Sean. He accuses her of making Sean sick which is probably true considering Yoko was probably on heroin through out the pregnancy! John is actually kind of stunning here because he is utterly pissed off at Yoko for putting Sean's health at risk and then snubbing John when she finally gets home. His breakdown when Yoko comes home is incredible. They have a baby that she hyped up to Charlie as a Messiah and then she didn't want him. And it still didn't make her love John. The despair in his words.

A lot of the conversations that Charlie depicts follows this pattern. At one point John gets so angry about Yoko's coldness that he picks a fight with her, gets in her face, and just starts screaming at her. She runs out of the room crying because she's frightened of him and then calls Charlie to do a tarot card reading on why John was so mad at her. Charlie speculates it's because she doesn't communicate well with John and he was trying to shake something loose. She goes on a long rant about why this can't possibly be the case because she's only doing what's best for him so please Charlie read the cards…. of course when Charlie spoke to John, John replied that he was angry that Yoko speaks Japanese because he doesn't understand what she's saying to the servants and he thinks that they're talking about him. He's paranoid and angry that she's doing something that he can't get involved with. So he started screaming at her and throwing cigarette packets at her.

At times like this, when Yoko and John are fighting, Charlie takes on an interesting role. He will tell them hard truths about their relationship that they don't like. When Yoko whines that John is being too independent in 1979, Charlie tells her that this is a good thing and that she should be happy that John doesn't need to be managed. He also tells her that she and John will be happier if they are independent of each other. This bounces off Yoko completely and she whines (Yoko is VERY childish in this book) that this isn't possible or safe because John is too stupid (!!) and naive (!!) to make decisions on his own.

Charlie very deliberately depicts himself almost as a marriage counselor to them. You can see his prodigious perfect memory fails him at these junctures because when he relays conversations, John and Yoko don't sound like themselves most of the time. But the funny part is, I totally believe it. I actually do think that Charlie Swan had moments where he gave his unvarnished opinion about JohnandYoko to John and Yoko. He could do this safely for a few reasons:

1) He knew they considered him superior to them. He successfully dug a foothold in their minds and had them both totally convinced that he was legit. They couldn't throw him out because he was their closest tarot reader and it looks like he also had a legitimate head for business because he was able to give them some good financial advice. All of this meant that they were in awe of him and neither of them wanted to go against what he said. They were completely at his mercy. In a way I think it's lucky that Charlie wasn't more malicious because he could have manipulated John and Yoko into doing some depraved shit if he felt like it. They both worshipped him completely. Independent sources verified that John called Charlie "the Oracle" and it wasn't all a jest.

2) Conmen are incredibly good at reading people. They see our weaknesses and they understand them. He had John and Yoko sized up the moment he met them. He realized John and Yoko were both inherently childish, very credulous, willing to believe anything, and that they would only take the easy way out. They wanted self improvement to come only at the cost of their check books. They loved spending money (I think they both had shopping addictions -- I know because I have a shopping addiction) and they didn't want to be disciplined in the slightest. In fact Charlie depicts several moments where outside parties force John and Yoko to be disciplined and they both react like children being forced to sit in the time out chair.

3) John and Yoko, being very petulant, lazy, and weak at this stage of their lives, were totally impervious to criticism. John at least admitted that he knew Charlie was right about certain things but Yoko always had excuses for why she couldn't give John a longer leash/respect him as her life partner, be nice to her mother (Charlie at one point straight up asks why she's being such a bitch to her mother and Yoko is full of pathetic excuses), spend time with her baby, etc. (She couldn't buy farmland on her own because she didn't know how to ascertain if any of the property was good, so she had Charlie do readings so she didn't have to take responsibility for it.) John and Yoko did not want to shoulder any kind of responsibility for anything at all. They are both depicted as sleepwalking through life, becoming outraged when anything temporarily waylaid them.

You could give them as many hard truths as you wanted and it would never take because they will never ever accept it or act on it or own their mistakes. John and Yoko are often at odds in the book, screaming and arguing with each other, John fucking things up on purpose for Yoko's family, but when it comes to Growing The Hell Up, they were a united couple saying "no the hell we will not!"

This is reading between the lines now but I think Charlie is straight up laughing at them at some points and he's letting us in on the joke. He knows that so long as they remain petulant and undisciplined, he will always have a job. So he can tell them honestly to their faces that they are bad parents, that they are a terrible couple, that John is a sullen asshole and Yoko is a whiny bitch, and they will never ever fire him. They will argue with him but Yoko will have him back in her bedroom in 15 minutes to get him to read tarot cards for her again.

A few things I found interesting:

Sean is not portrayed at all in the book. John once describes Sean as overly quiet and meek especially around John and John says it's because he knows Sean is frightened of him. Interesting that this is at odds with Fred's portrayal of Sean. However I actually feel a little soft towards Charlie Swan on this because I think he did it to protect Sean, the way he said he would protect the Lennons' privacy at the beginning of the book. I legit think he was shielding Sean because Sean under 18 when Charlie published this. I think he didn't want Sean to have to wrestle with being depicted in a memoir at that age. The Dakota situation is so fucked up that I legit believe that this expert scam artist might have been in the only moral person on John and Yoko's payroll. I say this because Charlie is absolutely fearless towards John and Yoko in this book so he clearly didn't give a shit about being sued for libel. So IMO he did it to protect Sean because Sean was only a child.

John goes in a 15 month depression in 1978 because Sean once asked him (after seeing one of their poor cats fall out of a window) what happened to the cat that died. John tells him that the cat went to the Land of the Dead because it fell, explaining that nothing can survive a fall out of a window that high. Sean apparently thought about it and said "then Daddy, why haven't you walked out the window?" Jesus Christ.

Charlie scolds John for being a shitty parent and tells him that Sean is just a kid and that he doesn't understand what he's saying. He's just repeating things that he's heard around the house, and if you read between the lines you can feel Charlie judging John and Yoko because Charlie understands that this exposure to the occult is fucking Sean up. John becomes very surly and asks him "how the hell do you know" to which Charlie replies "I studied art therapy and child psychology in college for my teaching degree." (Independent verification has proven that this is true!) John sinks even deeper into a funk that yet another person is proving to be more knowledgeable about John's children than John himself, and rolls over in bed, beginning a 15 month period where he won't see anyone. He just lays there watching tv with the sound off.

Yoko is constantly on edge. She's obsessed with what people think of her. Charlie describes 1979/80 as being very trying because Yoko constantly repeating the same questions for Charlie to read for, trying to divine what stories journalists will write about her next.

John is similarly obsessed with having a positive PR image. He's deeply upset that no one liked his Rock n Roll or Shaved Fish albums (because they don't have new material.) John spends an entire chapter moaning that he hates his audience because they don't love him enough. Then he admits that he thinks he owes them new material but that he won't commit to anything without having a decent stock of songs to burn through. Then he swivels back to piling more blame onto his audience and continues bitching that they don't love him enough to make up for the anguish that he feels all the time. He piled a lot of blame and resentment onto The Public for not being able to "fix" his sadness.

At one point Yoko wants to buy blessings/curses from an actual witch so they go to Brazil. They find a bruja and Charlie intimates to the audience that brujas are expert con artists in a class of their own. He relates that a bruja once sabotaged a building project at which time the builders invited her onto the property to do an """exorcism""" from which she made a tidy profit and they were able to resume building. (Charlie does not depict it in precisely this way but he relates the story in such broad ""magical"" terms that you can see him grinning, pointing, winking, and nodding at you from across the room. Charlie made it as obvious as he possibly could that he was totally fucking with these people and that he knew when other magicians were fucking with people as well.)

Yoko has to sit through a week of a Brazilian woman putting her through fake and expensive rituals, all while putting on a fake Jamaican accent??? Yoko is so dumb and desperate that she doesn't see through it. Charlie is incredibly contemptuous through out the section. He does have an interesting "magic" battle with the bruja (here called Nora, her actual name was Lena) where they size each other up and the bruja agrees to take Yoko on as a client. Eventually Yoko gets cold feet and begs Charlie for a way to get her out of the rituals because she's scared that Nora mentioned a "blood sacrifice" and Yoko doesn't want to kill someone.

To which Charlie replies: "Yoko, why don't you just tell Nora how you feel? You're the client, if you don't want to make a blood sacrifice then just ask Nora to do something different. I don't think she's going to kill a person but if you're that worried then you can tell Nora about your concerns and she'll either change it or explain what will happen. You're paying her, remember?"

Yoko dissolves into more hysterics. She's scared the bruja will put a curse on her or Sean or John. She's too anxious to ask for clarification or help. Charlie rolls his eyes through the entire section.

Then the actual ritual happens, Nora kills a dove (poor thing) and then tells Yoko to sign her name to sell her soul to…something? I actually didn't understand what, though Charlie told Yoko "it's impossible for you to sell your soul so just go along with it dumbass."

But Yoko melts down. She can't do it. She begs Charlie to sign on her behalf and it sounds like she was actually crying because she was so scared. Charlie and Nora both sigh but Charlie signs the document and Nora goes "okay, done!"

Yoko then asks Charlie "Hey did you sign Charlie Swan or John Green?" To which Charlie replies, "what makes you think I signed either of those names?" Yoko freaks out and follows him around going "What name did you sign?? Whose soul did you sell??? Charlie?!!!! Charlie!!!!" But he never tells her lmao. He is so fucking contemptuous of her, it's amazing. This sequence is Charlie Swan rubbing his superiority in Yoko's face with utter glee, and he completely gets away with it. She's too scared to argue with him.

Obviously Charlie doesn't talk about everything here. For example, he and Sam Green both pulled a fast one on Yoko by counterfeiting a painting and selling it to her -- her own boyfriend! It was a complete success, she paid them both handsomely for it. He doesn't talk about that here. But it's clear from the outset IMO that he lies his ass off about tarot reading through out the entire book and is able to do as well as he does because he does actually have some good business sense.

I have to be honest: I respect the fuck out of Charlie Swan. This man is a king. He scammed John and Yoko out of millions. He did so well that he could tell them how awful they were to their faces and they had no choice but to swallow it whole. They didn't have the sac to stand up to him. And he was kind enough to write this book and show us how he did it: by taking advantage of their fear, petulance, and refusal to grow up. Dakota Days is an amazing book.

I have decided that the rocknroll industry is one big trailer park and John and Yoko had the biggest trailer. John is straight up wandering around in a robe and curlers reading the astrology and Dear Abby sections of the newspaper, Yoko is knocking back forties wondering when she can upgrade to the younger model. Sean is their poor kid with a learning disorder that is doing the pyromaniac thing. Going to Swiss boarding school (so that Yoko didn't have to be reminded of John) is probably what straightened him out and saved him.

Not trying to diss trailer parks, I met a lot of nice people who lived in them when I worked insurance, so pulling more from sitcom trash here. But John and Yoko fought, a lot, like these types of couples always do (that anecdote of Pete Shotton's second phone call where Yoko is screaming her head off in the background. I live next to a trashy family like this.) Who knows what Sean heard and what he repeated because he was so young.

This is the book that convinced me that John retreated into the Dakota out of shame. He knew that being with Paul was the best thing that ever happened to him, the only good thing, and he fucked it up with drugs and untreated mental illness. Which sadly has to be hung around his own neck. He blew his life up for no reason and he hid because he knew that.

John thought there were only two options: go back to Yoko or eat crow and go back to Paul. He couldn't stand either but at least with Yoko he didn't have to dance for the press. It never occurred to him that he had options and could do anything.

[popcornforone]

The Lore

A Max Phillips Valentines Fan Fic

Bitey Maxie… for valentines… now we’re talking!

@happypedrohours are doing a valentines challenge this weekend & I took up the challenge, my Prompt of Max with heart shaped candies/chocolates. There was only one way to go with this so yes I went there.

Synopsis:- You are not bothered by Valentine’s Day to show your love, but Max has other ideas.

Word Count:- 4100

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!There is a lack of consent in this for lots of reasons, please in real life always give or receive consent before doing anything. PIV sex, drinking blood, alcohol, swearing, vampire lore & powers, drugging, stalking, controlling, boss & staff relationship, age gap (max is a vampire he’s like 200 years older than you in this story) manipulation.

Thanks for the read peoples. I hope you enjoy this.

Oooh as my poem got a lot of love last time, if you click here later this weekend you will get the poem version of this story.

“Ooooh isn’t it going to be romantic”

“I love this holiday”

“Wonder how many roses I will get”

You groan at the constant comments around the office in the lead up to Valentine’s Day. You have never been the kind of person,be it single or in a relationship, to enjoy Valentine’s Day. Yes it’s nice to get gifts & be doted on but you believe you don’t need a day to tell the person you love that you love them, you love them every day. Also there is currently the added bonus that no one in your office knows your in a new relationship. For lots of reasons you’ve had to keep it quiet. It’s been 6 months now, there’s been a few difficult conversations along the way so far but you know what to expect of each other.

As you sit there hearing Darcey talk for the 8th time that on Friday she has the day off & she’s sure her boyfriend will finally propose to her, you get a pop up on your screen.

My office with the reports in 10 mins.

“Always to the point” you mutter & start downloading last months sales reports to the usb drive. He is the only person in the world who hates using the cloud so this has to be done. You don’t mind it though. Means you know he’s not just skimming through the reports.

9mins later you knock on his office door & walk in closing it behind you.

“A minute early,” he says his back to you as he looks out the window at the grey busy city below. His Gucci suit being sleek & making his peachy arse, tiny waist & broad shoulders look emaculate. “Either that’s not good for sales, or you are getting too good at your job, guessing when I’m gonna ask for stuff.” He shifts back on his left foot before turning. There he is. Not a hair out of place. Looking as handsome as ever.

Your boss.

Your Boyfriend.

Max Phillips.

You always gulp upon seeing those eyes. Eyes so smouldering they could set a forest a blaze with one look. His hand smoothed out his blue tie. That large hand that makes you think bad things. & those lips, thin for now but blushing with life, the perfect way to end any day is to have those lips make contact, in lots of ways.

“Well that is why you hired me” you reply & wait for him to beckon you over. He might be your boyfriend & boss, but you are also his sub, & part of his supply of food. Max is a Vampire. Your obedience is rewarded with all sorts of things, but mainly mind blowing sex every other night. You’ve had so many orgasms in the last 6 months your world has truly been rocked. The two fingers extend & he does a come hither. You nod & walk across to him & hand him his usb. He grabs your hand, tightly & you gasp.

“Thank you darling” he then kisses your neck. You flinch a little. It’s the sore patch. It’s where he drinks from. You won’t let him drink while you have sex, one of the disagreements you’ve had, but on a Friday after you’ve dined & wined with whoever you have been out with, he will come over, drink from your neck so he can feel a little intoxicated too & then as you lie exhausted from being consumed yourself, he will devour your pussy until you can’t cum anymore.

“My pleasure sir” you say. He giggles a little, the glint in his eye even more shiney today.

He sits behind his desk & the two of you go through the sales reports. Despite you being his in almost every sense (he’s not agreed to turn you yet) he’s still very impressed with you, your work ethic, your charisma, your professionalism & the fact, that even though he is your master in lots of ways, that you will challenge him. No one has done that for over 200 years. He likes you feisty , because then he knows you’re being real & true. You wear your heart on your sleeve & that’s one of the reasons he adores you.

“That is actually all good” he says at the end of the review & chat”up 15% on last month that’s very reassuring, shows growth is continuing to get stronger”

“As I said Sir” you interject “we don’t need to grow at rapid speed just 12% each month for this year & then they will keep coming back & then recommend us”

“You’re so business savvy” he takes his large hand off the keyboard & strokes your chin. You try to not blush. “Your my little Angel”

“Max” you giggle unable to keep calm you know what thumb stroking usually means “we’re at work”

“&…”

“What if…”

“I’m in charge remember darling” the grip on your chin gets firmer. “If I wanted you under my desk every morning for a blow job, all

I’d have to do is snap my fingers & you’d be on your knees” your bright red, because you know it’s true. Power attracts you. His lore radiates. He pulls your face down, the eye contact intense, the sexual tension could cut through a coconut. Your kiss never materialises, as his phone rings. He answers it angrily.

“Fine fine fine” he says sternly before hanging up. “Sorry darling, rain check, new interns from the college, here to see if they want to work here”you are both disappointed but know you will get to continue later.

“Actual interns or a snack?” You ask he pulls a face of shock. Almost disappointed in your remarks, but you see the glint in his eye.

“Actual interns…” he then pauses & raises an eyebrow. “But the most Karen amongst them might be a nice little nibble” you giggle at him & take the usb back. “Hang on” you pause just before the door. “Remember I’m at a conference next week”

“Of course sir”

“Means a couple of nights away” he then pauses his face worried “including late home on Friday”

“&…” you reply.

“But it’s Valentine’s Day” he says. He’s shocked you don’t look sad.

“It’s just a day Max” you say softly. “I don’t need a certain day to be doted on” he then looks really shocked by this. In the 284 years he’s been alive he’s always spoilt the woman in his life on this day.

“You sure”

“Yes Max” you smile at him softly “my feelings won’t change for you they will be the same on Saturday as they will be on Friday” you nod & then leave his office.

Max sits back in his chair contemplating what you just said to him. Amazed you don’t want a fuss. He can read your mind, 9 times out of 10 he decides not to, but he had a quick feel around during that conversation & realised you weren’t lying. You really aren’t bothered. But that is going to make what Max has planned so much better. His mind planning only interrupted when the intercom goes to say the interns are in the lift to see him.

Valentine’s Day arrives.

After hitting your alarm on snooze, you see the message from Max on your phone.

I know i love you every day but today I felt like saying it, love you darling 💕

You reply saying the same back before getting in the shower. The hot steam making you wish Max was here, to touch you in lots of ways. Once dressed & in the kitchen making your coffee the door goes. You moan a little & hit the buzzer for whatever delivery this is to come up to your apartment, but your eyes are a delight when you open your eyes. A heart shaped cookie, with some small heart shaped chocolates on it & two roses with thorns still attached. The note that with it says “I bet this made you at least smile MPx” it had. Your dark heart which usually hates Valentine’s Day & the commercialism of it, starting to defrost a little. You decide to eat a chocolate as you head out to get the subway to work. As the last bit of chocolate melts on your tongue you feel wave of euphoria. Maybe it’s having something so sweet this early in the morning that’s woken up your senses, you’re not sure. But it’s making you bounce into the office this Friday morning. People notice how happy you are & are wondering what’s up.

When you get to your desk on your floor there is a pink heart shaped box, with a gold bow & a note. “Thought this morning was all you were gonna get? MPx” you untie the bow as some of your colleagues watch you. Those who aren’t then hear your squeal of excitement once it’s opened. A lavish selection of heart shaped chocolates & sweets sit inside & they smell amazing, making you lick your lips.

“Thought you didn’t do Valentine’s Day?” Danny asked.

“I don’t”

“& aren’t you single?” You blush at that.

“It’s complicated” you say. You’d love to shout out that you are getting railed by Max, but that would make things awkward. “But I have someone” you finish & you take a white chocolate heart & plop it in your mouth. “Oooh raspberry” you then offer the box to Danny “take one”

“But they are yours”

“I’m not gonna be able to eat them all Danny you take one for now & one for the journey” you offer innocently.

2hours later you suddenly realise the office is all around a much happier & nicer place. The usual mid morning slump never arrives. In fact, the entire office feels like it’s running on a different frequency, lighter, faster, buzzing with an energy that’s almost contagious. People are smiling, laughing, moving with an unusual ease. Even the usual grumblers seem… pleasant.

You lean back in your chair, watching as Danny animatedly chats with Sarah from accounts, his usual nervousness nowhere to be seen, he’s always had a crush on her. Across the room, even your perpetually stressed admin clark is grinning as she types away at her keyboard. It’s like someone has turned the volume up on life. It’s only when you realise that you’re tapping your foot at a ridiculous speed & that your fingers have been flying over your keyboard without you even noticing, that a thought creeps in.You glance at the open chocolate box on your desk.

Surely not?

Another bite of a heart chocolate sends a fresh wave of warmth through you, like you could take on the world. Your body feels incredible, light, sharp, almost euphoric. Your brain is firing on all cylinders.

Your phone vibrates. A message from Max.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?”

Your stomach flips. That bastard.

“What did you do?” You reply.The three dots appear.

“Hopefully get you loose”

You look up. Across the room, Danny meets your eye & grins, cheeks flushed. He winks.

“Oh fuck” you whisper & grab the box & run into Max’ office & lock the door behind you before calling him. He answers straight away.

“Darling”

“What’s in the chocolates Max?”

“Happy Val…” you interrupt him.

“I’m serious Max” you say sternly. “I passed them around the office”

“WHAT!” He screeches”why did you do that”

“Cos I’m not gonna eat 30 chocolates it would take me months”

“Fuck” he says “so how is erm… the rest of the office”

“Euphoric, In the most chilled Friday mood ever” you hear him tut.

“Well they have a mild aphrodisiac in them, just to let you inhibitions go” he chuckles. He’s drugged you & no also due to your generosity most of his staff.

“You think this is funny?” You state.

“I do, sorry daring. I didn’t want you stressing & I wanted you to have a nice calm day without me” he then pauses”wait where are you calling me from im guessing not the office floor”

“I ain’t that stupid Max” you scoff “I’m in your office, panicking”

“Bottom left draw of my desk” he says. His tone demanding even down the phone & you obey. You open the drawer & there is a bottle of champagne.

“Max”

“Take it home when you leave, enjoy it tonight, you deserve it baby” & then the phone clicks off, he’s hung up. Your stood there speechless & also very concerned you’ve just drugged the office with heart shaped chocolates. Well technically your boss has, your boyfriend has.

After the most relaxed Friday anyone has ever imagined, you go back to your apartment. Another bunch of red roses are waiting for you with a smaller box of chocolate & the note on the card says, “order a take away on me beautiful MPx” you blush & take them inside. After setting the roses in a vase & placing the smaller chocolate box on your kitchen counter, you flop onto the couch, phone in hand. Ready to let Max know what he might be coming back to at work next week.

“You do realise I am never trusting any food from you again, right?” His reply is instant.

“Oh, come on, darling. Didn’t you have the best Friday of your life?”

“You drugged an entire office.”

“Lightly. They’ll be fine. No complaints, right”You pause. He’s right. No one seemed upset. In fact, people left work happier than they ever have on a Friday. It was as if all the tension that usually hung in the air had dissolved. Still, you weren’t about to let him get off that easy.

“You’re a menace.”

“& yet, I’m your menace & you love me.”

You groan, tossing your phone onto the coffee table at his reply. He’s insufferable, smug & unfortunately, he’s right.

Your stomach rumbles, bringing your attention to the takeout menu you’ve grabbed, you know it doesn’t go well but a burger & champagne sounds good. As you place your order, your thoughts drift back to Max’s little surprise. The chocolates. The way they made you feel. That warm, floaty sensation still lingers in your veins, but now it’s mixed with anticipation. Because you know exactly what’s coming next. After all, he’s not the type to leave things at just chocolates & flowers.

As if on cue, your phone vibrates again.

“Enjoy your dinner, sweetheart. I’ll be seeing you soon”

Your breath catches. Max isn’t meant to get back until really late tonight. Is this all just a game to him? Playing with your emotions or is it just the heart shaped chocolates playing with your mind.

What you have no idea is that Max was never working away today, he’s been following you. He had been away for the rest of the week but he got back to his place last night. He watched you get the gifts on each occasion including putting a couple of mind control tricks on you, a little one every now & then doesn’t effect you, he even snuck into work to see how the chocolates were going down. He’s been watching you from outside your apartment feeling your aura, ready to strike at the moment you are most care free & relaxed. He wants a special Valentine’s Day himself. He wants you, & he knows by making you so calm & relaxed there is a huge chance you will let him drink from you when you have sex. He will need no mind controls tonight.

When you’ve finished eating & you pour another large glass of fizz, you hear a soft knock at your actual apartment door. Not the buzzer or the intercom. It’s deliberate & sends a shiver of both nervousness & delight down your spine. It has to be him. You slowly make your way to the door, is it nerves, fear, anticipation, lust, desire or all of the above that’s making your heart pound inside you? You can feel the tension as you unlock the door.

Max always has the devil in his eyes being a vampire but tonight it’s glowing. There’s an extra glint shining bright in those eyes. He knows he’s been naughty but he can’t contain his enjoyment of his teases through the day. He’s dressed to the nines as always spotless, the tie in his sleek jacket pocket, you can see the red poking out. Trousers that if he thrust, would show you which side he was dressing today. He’s smirking the only way he can.

“Surprise” he says cockily. You roll your eyes & tut in a sarcastic way. You step aside & he bows before entering. It’s a vampire thing.

“How was the late stay for the work thing?” You ask but you already deep down know he’s been spying on you. Something in your mind is telling you this.

“Erm about that” you sigh”oooh come on I wanted to have fun & you clearly have had enough of it, & I had to know if you really were enjoying yourself.”

“How often do you watch me max” not just a question for today but just in general.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to, I’ve set my own boundaries. Trust me I could stand at the end of your bed all night watching you sleep & you’d have no idea”

“What” you say shocked.

“Joking” he says putting his hands up apologetically, but there’s something about he smirk that makes you think maybe he sometimes does. He then takes your left hand & kisses it. You blush crimson.”you know your better than any drug or blood to me”

Just being with each other intoxicates you both. No more mind games are needed tonight, no more alcohol or chocolates to let yourself go. Your combined auras are making the sexual tension so thick. As you rest a hand on him your certain even though you know it cant be that you can feel his pulse quicken.

“Max i…”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his lips crash into yours, stealing your breath easing your soul, igniting the fire within your bones. He’s possessive as he pulls you into him. He knows you’re his in every way but that doesn’t stop him wanting to claim every last inch of you. You’d willingly be this man’s last meal if he asked you, his scent, his touch, his body, his mouth & those eyes that are are usually so soft now primal & wild, they all belong your man. No one else’s he’s yours.

His mouth leavers your lips, to your jaw, to your neck, to your throat, to where he likes to sip. He’s a man possessed. Too much to feast on. On such a beauty as you. He knows he should ask, he also knows he could use a mind trick but he wants you to willingly bring it up. The thing he wants most. His tongue flicks against the usual puncture holes, the teeth grazing, those prestige fangs starting to form. He lets out a small growl, it vibrates through your body.

“I want you”

“I know max”

“No I really want you in every way”

Your body melts & you moan as he softly starts to nip. It’s not painful anymore it’s arousing.

“Yes” you whimper.

“Sorry” he says & lifts his head

“ I said yes, take me to bed before I change my mind” you say & he lifts his head.

“Only if your sure darling & you must say black if it’s too much”

“Max i trust you with my life”

That’s all Max needs to hear.

Vampiric power is extraordinary in so many ways. In a flash he’s scooped you into his arms & carried you to your bedroom. You body feels like it’s falling in slow motion. In the time it takes you to get your jewellery off he’s gone & got some towels & a bottle of water & a few other supplies, incase things go wrong, although he keeps promising it never would, that he’d never hurt you, that it would make sex so much more enjoyable.

You’re excited as you both undress each other. You’re always excited for sex with max, but today it’s different. You’ve been drank before & after sex but never during it. This is a special treat & one that you know, now that you’ve opened Pandora’s box, he will expect more regularly.

After peeling away your clothes Max kisses every single inch of your skin. So full of life, so beautiful. He makes him more of a creature of a night than ever before. He’s savouring each kiss & touch. You moan as he sucks on your clit for a few minutes, your hands going into his hair. Your hips already rolling pushing his face further into your pleasure, as h gets you going.

“Fuck max”

“Don’t cum already baby” he giggles before his fangs then graze your nipples. He then pauses. He knows once he sinks his fangs into you & his penis, he will turn into an animal.

“Last chance darling” he says hopeful you still consent. Slight restraint in his voice. You pull him up so he can be near his usual drinking spot. Your hand traces over this jaw.

“I’m all yours max, in every way, yes I want this”

“Remember black” he says. He then very unromantic hits a timer next to your bed of 10mins, the longest the knows he can drink without doing any damage. You moan as he penetrates you slowly, filling up your cunt as he kisses you deeply. “I promise you will want this every night” he then licks down your throat, his hips slowly thrusting, you aren’t gripping the bedding yet but you can’t stop moaning already.

Finally his mouth as back at his supply. He sighs, licks & then softly sinks his fangs into your flesh. You’re gripping the bedding now.

Pleasure ripples through your body. You’ve never felt this high, you’ve never felt this happy. Sharp, hot, intoxicating, sexy, ritualistic. Your body arches as you moan pushing him into the air with you before you come back down onto the bed. It’s almost an out of body experience. Your own nails dig into Max to hold him in place, his growling & thrusts making each contraction of your cunt around his penis invigorating like you’ve been born again.

This isn’t just a drink, this isn’t just sex, this isn’t just a vampire & his partner being intimate, this is sacred. Each thrust sets off fireworks, each slurp has you both seeing stars. It’s binding you together in a moment of bliss.

Bzzzzz

The alarm goes off & Max to his word slowly removes his fangs from your neck, drops of blood fall onto where he drinks, your blood & his venom to seal the wound.

“Fuck baby” he snarls & then he picks his pace up. Those 10 minutes flew by, but the ferocity of both your orgasms makes you feel the same connection once again. Your body quivers in pleasure at your release. His face radiant & almost alive, from sweat blood & lust filled eyes.

“Perfect” he pants a few minutes later & lifts his head to look deeply into your eyes, moving a stray hair off your face. “How was it for you darling”

“indescribable”

“Is that good or bad?” You laugh at his response as your thumb traces over his lips. You suck your own blood off it.

“More” you say. Max looks shocked.

“M…more” Max is stunned his voice husky but it doesn’t take long for that smirk to return to his face. “darling do you have any idea what you just asked for” he murmurs as his hands cup your breasts & he slowly takes hold of you.

“Then show me Max” you challenge him.

“You greedy little thing” he says & he rolls back on top of you.

“Not really” you joke trying to lighten the mood as you get comfortable for round 2”I gave all of my chocolates away”Max laughs.

“Actually” he quickly leans over the top of his timer he had brought some chocolates upstairs with him. Those likely heart shaped chocolates which have caused all sorts of fun today. “Is one more gonna hurt” he says as he bites into his. He then feeds you the final chocolate. Your world exploding into colour once more. You tilt your head to the side.

“no it’s not baby”your practically vibrating with anticipation.

Slowly he pushes deep inside you, thrusting a few times watching your eyes glaze over from pleasure before he lowers his head to your neck.

“Happy Valentine’s Day darling” he whispers before growling in satisfaction as he sinks his fangs into the only sweetness he needs in his life.

[gvshing]

•·.·''·.·•Clingy Ellie•·.·''·.·

masterlist

I think Ellie would be clingy. She would have to be cuddling every single night to fall asleep. And not just spooning. I’m talking facing each other, hugging so tight that a constant pressure can be felt in your chests. Breaths fanning against each other, her ear pressed against your chest so hard she could not only hear your heartbeat, she could feel it beating against the side of her head. Legs interlocked, tangled in all types of ways.  When gaming, because let’s be real she would be a gamer (Possibly even a twitch streamer, the constant yelling at kids is the norm for her) she would have you stay in the room with her. She doesn’t want to be apart if she could help it. She would move her setup wherever you needed. You wanted to lay down in bed? Great. She’s lugging that big ass PC setup into that room and planting her ass. Living room? Give her just a minute, she will be there. Snacks sat in her gaming chair that she’s lugging into the room. Balancing the snacks ever so gently, as to not have them flinging everywhere when the chair inevitably swivels around because she’s got an awkward hold on it.  She’d always ask to take you to work on her days off so she can see you as long as possible before you go in and be able to see you as soon as you’re off. She’d still pout about having to get up in the morning so early, but she’s pouting more if she’s not the one seeing you off.  She loves eating all meals together. Breakfast, lunch, dinner or snacks, she’s there right next to you, eating right alongside you. She loves getting to cook with you, even if she’s not the best at it, she burns at least one thing every single time. Which at some point becomes impressive. How does she burn something and she’s just making cereal? She doesn’t know either. The stovetop got smacked ever so slightly and all of a sudden the box of cereal is turning black and smoking. But she swears she has no idea how that happened. Cooking and baking is her favorite thing to do with you. She stares at you lovingly as you scuttle around the kitchen gathering all your materials. She helps by doing the dishes and that’s all you can ask truly. You shower together, take out trash together, work out together, and when you’re not working out you’re still planted right behind her as she works out, probably staring at her ass and admiring her physique. There’s very little you’re not able to do as a duo. You guys do everything you possibly can together, your friends love her and her friends love you. So why be apart? 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Kinda not great lol my brains been in a fog and not creative. I hope you enjoy nonetheless <3

[fioreofthemarch]

heart flow

This was written for @zelinkcommunity's Loftwing Letters 2025, and is for @hyylia! Words: 1640 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / Tears of the Kingdom Characters: Link/Zelda

It’s a high moon tonight. The rising paths and nestled buildings of Hateno are drowned in its rays. Three days until the full moon, and the harvest festival to celebrate it. 

It’s a welcome light. Link straddles the top of an unsteady ladder, glad to be able to see clearly so late into the evening. He’s been helping string lantern lights across the main thoroughfare of Hateno, but he’s done his bit, securing his end to the mossy roof of Cece’s shop. The string slackens and tightens as his counterparts at the general store struggle with their end. “We’ve nearly got it, Master Link”, one of them calls out. He’s content to wait.

Behind him, inside Cece’s shop, the women of the town have gathered. He can hear feet thumping lightly on the wooden floor, the beating of a drum, and a muffled shouting: and step, and step, one, two! For the festival, the men hang the lights, and the women do the dance. There are giggles, more shouts, more giggles. He wonders if he can pick Zelda’s laugh among them. 

“I’m really not much of a dancer,” she had said, multiple times, but they wouldn’t have it. He pictures her in there now, golden hair tied into a plait, cheeks flushed, spinning and smiling. 

Link frowns. The moon above is harsh, exacting: why not just tell her? He’s been wondering that for a year, since she returned into his life, into all their lives, and set about filling the land with her radiance. 

Practice is over. The women stream out of the building towards their homes, Zelda among them. She is flanked by two others, chatting amicably as they approach. 

He could do it now. He could descend the ladder and tell her plain and clear. Did you know that you are perfect? That I love every single thing about you?

Zelda passes by the ladder and waves up at him. Link... waves back. And sighs. To the north, where the horizon meets sea, the dragon Naydra floats through the sky. 

---

“Finally autumn, after such a long summer!” Zelda says, looking up at the full moon.

“Indeed, and a dry winter to follow, from our observations,” says Symin beside her. 

“Oh. Hopefully we get some rain.” 

They stand together under the shade of an old tree, watching the townsfolk collect long timber beams from the construction site of the planned Hateno School, which is as yet unfinished. “These beams will be returned tomorrow, right?” Symin asks. 

“Of course. They just need them for the festival tent.”

“I hope so. I won’t teach from a tent.” 

Zelda smiles to herself. The only person in Hyrule more passionate about building the school than her is Symin. Well, except maybe–

“Master Link!” Symin calls out, rushing forward. He greets Link, who has slugged an entire beam over his shoulder with ease. “Please remind the others to be careful. This timber is pine, from Tabantha.”

“Sure,” Link answers, but still Symin cranes his neck towards the centre of town, sighing and fussing as he watches his priceless timber being carted away.

“Why don’t you remind them yourself?” Zelda offers. 

“Indeed! I'd better!” Symin says, and kicking up a little dust he marches into town, leaving Link and Zelda to speak alone. 

Only, Zelda never knows what to say to Link. What can she say, to the one who saved her life, saved all their lives? Her gratitude always feels cloying and sticky in her mouth.

“It’s going well?” she asks.  

“Yes.” He lowers the beam to the ground. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I – are you looking forward to tonight?”

He pauses, seeming unsure. Maybe he dreads it as much as she does. “I am.”

“I’ll be dancing, you know."

“I know.”

“It’s so ridiculous.”

Link smiles, a look that makes her want to melt. “I don’t think so.” 

For a moment they stare at one another, and everything Zelda has wanted to say nearly rushes out. That he should have his own life, that he doesn’t have to live where she lives. That he can have his house back and that it’s okay if he doesn’t feel anything for her, really. She is grateful just to be able to love him, because it means she is alive, and being alive was once a distant and fading dream– 

“I better go.” Link says. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes.” 

No other words come. After he is gone, she spots the goddess Naydra rounding the mountains to the north. Lady of wisdom, lady of love, she prays. Oh, save me from myself!

---

A harsh wind descends upon the town as the festival starts, rattling the lantern lights. Link helps hang the last of them between the dye shop and a water tower further up the hill. When he’s done, he heads to the festival tent. It shudders under every gust, but the townsfolk are determined. Their ragtag band of drummers and pipers are loud enough to drown out the wind.  

He keeps a low profile, sampling the food stalls one by one. It’s oppressively hot in the tent, the whole town crammed inside, but Zelda is nowhere to be seen. Maybe it’s for the better. Maybe the time to tell her what he feels has passed.  

Then there are three sharp beats of a drum, and the festival goers turn their attention to the centre of the tent. The women of the town gather, with Zelda at the front in a red dress and black leggings. They join hands, forming two long lines, and to the beat of the drum they dance, spinning and clapping. Link blushes as he watches, realising in his gloom he had forgotten the reason he came to the festival at all. When they are done, the women bow to whoops and cheers from the crowd, and in the chaos that follows as they disperse, Zelda appears in front of him with a hand outstretched. 

“There’s another dance. Join me?” she says. There’s a sort of giddiness to her, almost drunken. Is that what dancing feels like? He takes her hand, and wordlessly they step into the dancer’s circle. Maybe this is how he tells her. Maybe he simply sweeps her off her feet. 

Just as the world around them begins to fall away, a terrible crack rips through the air. It’s deafening. The ground shakes. Then another; thunder, beastlike and hungry, accompanied by flashes of lightning. Never letting go of his hand, Zelda hurries them outside, and they see the sky has darkened, clouds churning like the sea. There is shouting all around – everyone inside, quickly! It’s a storm! 

Another flash, as an arc of lightning strikes the general store. Then another hits the grass in front of them, the light blinding. Crack! When Link opens his eyes he is met with a wall of fire. The lightning has set the grass of the main thoroughfare alight, and the wind is blowing the flames towards the festival tent. 

“There's no rain,” Link says, drawing back. 

“A dry winter…” Zelda murmurs. “We have to do something!”

In the sky, just below the clouds, Link spots the dragon Naydra, seemingly undisturbed by the weather. “Can she help? Can you, I don’t know, call her–?” 

“No. How would I even– I mean I could try but –”

He takes her other hand, holding both between his. “Okay, it’s okay,” he says, waiting for her to calm. “We save ourselves.” 

Zelda nods, and they turn their attention back to the fire. Across the thoroughfare, Zelda seems to spot something. He follows her gaze, eyes drawn to the lantern lights, which are now mostly gone out. “The water tower?” he asks. Zelda answers by taking his hand and leading him away from the tent. 

They rush to a nearby stable shed, where Zelda finds two axes, placing one in Link's hands. Then she points to the water tower. It sits on three poorly made struts and is already shaking in the wind, water spilling over the edge of its wide metal tank. Link understands immediately, and can't help but laugh. Alright, Princess, let’s go destroy some public property. 

They run to the tower and begin chopping - one strut each. “We need them to come down at the same time!” Link says. 

“Then follow my lead!” 

She chants as they chop. And swing. And swing. One, two! Lightning flashes around them, and the fire rages towards the festival tent. One, two! One, two! Then there is a creak and a groan - the sound of snapping wood. Link drops his axe and dives toward Zelda as the whole structure collapses, unleashing a flood of water down the hill. 

They roll and tumble, caught in the wave, and come to a rest beside the festival tent, arms around each other on the muddy grass. Bewildered, the townsfolk stumble towards this spectacle; where there was once a fire, a wall of water has consumed it down to the embers. Seeing this, Link and Zelda hold each other close, and laugh and laugh. 

There is nothing else to be said. Zelda rests her head back on the grass, smiling up at Link. Now, he thinks, and catches that perfect smile with a kiss - a lingering, apologetic, long awaited kind, and though it tastes a little of earth and grass, it’s intoxicating. As more townsfolk gather, Link and Zelda pick themselves up and hurry out of sight -- to continue with this new means of communication they have discovered.

Inside the festival tent, the music starts again. Above, Naydra makes her rounds – where she flies the dark clouds split, and the full moon shines through bright and clear.

[capekelpie]

The lesbian pining has reached cataclysmic extremes.

[bumblingbabooshka]

My name is [BRUTUS] and my name means [HEAVY] so with a [HEAVY] heart I'll guide this dagger Into the heart of my enemy

Something about having absolutely no choice in who you marry. About being literally forced by the law to spill blood - to accept this stranger as your husband over a man you truly care for or accept the fact that the man you love might die because you put him in danger. Something about risking becoming the wife of a man you've never even seen before a few minutes prior because you know anything would be better than putting your beloved in harm's way. Something about the trust inherent in that decision and in the way she speaks of it after. Truthfully, T'Pring doesn't know the captain and she doesn't know Spock. Either one of them could have taken her as their wife but she does know Stonn. She knows that Stonn will remain by her side no matter what. They made a plan together. They have an agreement which T'Pring believes will be upheld even though the plan changed with the arrival of Kirk. Stonn will always be there, always, and Stonn will be hers. Something about the language used around T'Pring: Ownership, subservience, non-personhood. T'Pring is an object that Spock can win. She cannot reject him, she has no say in the matter other than having Stonn 'claim' her instead. Even when Spock leaves after being very clearly rejected by T'Pring he says "Stonn, she is yours." as if despite her clear rejection he still owns her and is must formally 'give' her to Stonn. But the language T'Pring uses around Stonn is a break from that: "There was Stonn who wanted very much to be my consort, and I wanted him." Stonn who wanted very much to be HER consort and she WANTED him. The language here is very particular - It's not, for example: "Stonn wanted me to be his wife" - he is HERS. And she WANTS him. There's a mutual affection there and a strong trust - a trust which seems to be well founded since Stonn (though silent) stands by her side at the end of the episode. <- That might seem small but if Spock would reject her for 'daring to challenge' (again, the language is not 'because I don't want you' but more of an implied disgust at her having the AUDACITY to reject him) then it's not a stretch to assume that it'd be considered an insult in the TOS Vulcan society to NOT choose Stonn as her champion after a prior agreement. Anyway T'Pring was a woman in an impossible situation within a society which saw her as more of an object than a person and she wanted Stonn and Stonn wanted to be hers and she trusted that he would understand if she had to publicly pick someone else to ensure his life would be spared and he did understand.

[valewritessss]

Every time I see videos about or hear someone say that they think they don’t look good, and I’m just thinking “what the fuck are you taking about” I wonder if anyone thinks that way about me because it really is that we’re blind to our own beauty but not each others