#his valentine?? his bed. some REST

[bubblegumbirbe]

valentine’s day outfits for the alola kids ! (except im a day late) ((oops))

[atxchiphxbix]

just something small for my boy, a late valentine's day gift

Content. mdni afab + f! reader, unprotected sex, oral (f! receiving), swearing, ig angst if u squint, caleb finishes in reader, L-word drop, he does call you pipsqueak im sorry, slight spoiler for 'verified rumor' memory

fake boyfriend! caleb who calls you up one day, asking you to come to skyhaven for a teeny-tiny favor that only you can help him with.

fake boyfriend! caleb who tells you he'll do anything for you if you pretend to be his fake girlfriend because there are too many people interested in him and he doesn't want any of them (he's only wants you)

fake boyfriend! caleb who says this is a "win win" situation. He gets to fend off his admirers (prove that you belong to him) and you get some needed relationship experience in. Of course, it's all fake and there aren't any feelings at all — besides, you two grew up together and this is a normal thing, right?

fake boyfriend! caleb who is just so charismatic and falls perfectly in place as a boyfriend, your boyfriend. It's almost like he's made for you (he is)

fake boyfriend! caleb who introduces you as his needy girlfriend, with an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his warm, toned torso. The way he so easily takes on the role is absurd, the way he easily introduces you as his girlfriend sends your mind reeling but it feels so... right. It feels right in a way that causes your cheeks to burn and chest to tighten.

fake boyfriend! caleb who looks at you so fondly whenever you're interacting with one of his friends, telling them stories of how you and him 'met.' He feels his heart swell with so much love and he wants to kiss you until with lungs cripple and lips sore. It's even worse because you fill the role perfectly (you're made to be his) it only makes his pants tighter and the apples of his cheeks red.

fake boyfriend! caleb who keeps the act up even when his admirers die down and he isn't so bombarded with love letters and lunchboxes anymore. He keeps up the act long after you leave skyhaven, even carrying it over when he visits you in linkon, taking his precious girl out on dates and spending long nights at your apartment. You don’t even realize how cemented he is in your life, how your heart beats just a little faster when he nears you, placing a braised chicken wing on your plate or when he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

fake boyfriend! caleb who starts to feel a little less like a fake boyfriend and more like a real one. It begins to feel so much more real when you catch your heart stuttering in your chest, when you catch him gazing fondly at you, when you sleep in the same bed because you’ve begun to feel bad for making him sleep on the couch. It’s so much more real when you realize how easily he slots himself in your life, how routine it is that you don’t even have to change anything because he’s always been there. He’s always been there for you.

fake boyfriend! caleb who, once again, spends another night at your apartment. He’s in your bed this time, lying next to you as you use his arm as a pillow. His soothing fingers pat down your hair, your own trailing down his chest before resting on the expanse of flesh where his collar meets his jaw. It’s then you become alarmingly aware of the proximity, the shared breaths, and the intoxicating space between your bodies. You’re so close that you can count every speck of stars in his violet hues.

fake boyfriend! caleb who lets silence marinate between you two, neither wanting to break the thin veil that masks your relationship, whatever it is or whatever you want it to be. But he's the first to turn away, breaking the hypnotizing eye contact with you. He turns his face to bury in the soft pillow, ears, and cheeks flushed the same shade as his favorite asiatic apples. His voice comes out in the muffled murmur, you’d be unable to hear if you two weren’t so close.

“It’s late. You should get some rest, pipsqueak.”

A light scoff leaves your lips and disappointment stirs in your heart. You aren’t sure what drives you to surge forward, fingers fisting into the blue cotton of his shirt, pulling him towards you, and mushing your lips together. It’s messy and forceful but you’ll swear it isn’t your fault — it’s all because of Caleb. Everything is because of him.

You seal your lips together, spurred by sudden want and need, heat surges through your veins, fogging all logic in your fuzzy mind. The kiss is longer than it should be, a minute, two, or three until all the air crawls away and leaves your lungs crippling and aching for air.

And then, you breathlessly pull away. Out of breath like you’ve climbed to the top of the highest mountain, you think it might be similar to how you’re feeling right now. A familiar heat pools in your lower stomach when you brave to see the state Caleb is in.

fake boyfriend! caleb who’s eyes are half-lidded, lips swollen, and a heavy blush settled onto his pale flesh. His lavender eyes hold swirls of yearning and want, mirroring your own. Shared breaths and heated air are stifled between you and the pilot before he pushes forward, connecting your lips again with a needy groan that's greedily swallowed.

fake boyfriend! caleb who hovers over you, violet eyes boring into your soul. His hot breath beats against your cheeks, a quiet groan escaping his pretty lips when he buries his face into the crook of your neck, and it takes everything in him not to mark you up, to claim you.

“Did you mean to do that? Did you mean to kiss me?” His voice is soaked in desperation and he’s completely and utterly entranced by you. The pretty, sweet, stubborn girl from his childhood. The girl he’s watched grow up into the woman under him, the woman who has clawed into his heart, making a home of him.

fake boyfriend! caleb who loses his mind once he sees you nod your pretty head, teeth biting down on the plush of your lower lip. His body feels numbingly hot, the air is stifling, and his pants are suddenly too tight. He isn’t close enough, he wants — needs — to be closer. He wants to settle into your body, carve himself into your heart, meld his soul with yours. He wants whatever bone you’re willing to throw his way.

fake boyfriend! caleb who strips the two of you out of your sleepwear and in an instant, his lips are on yours. The kiss is in no way tranquil or soft, it’s greedy and messy, and downright sinful, pushing his tongue in your mouth and completely disregarding the mixed saliva that drools down the side of your mouths. He takes in all of you as he feverishly kisses his way down your body, biting and suckling at any glimpse of skin he can reach.

fake boyfriend! caleb who lavishes wet kisses from your breast and down to the navel of your body, fingers curling at the edge of your panties, inching the fabric down once he settles between your thighs. An audible groan is ripped from his throat when he sees how soaked you are, the fabric sticks to your skin as it’s peeled off with strings of your wetness clinging to the thin fabric. A wave of embarrassment washes over you when he comes face to face with the most intimate part of you and it’s better than any fantasy he’s ever had.

“Fuck, pipsqueak… you’re so soaked.” His voice comes out as a raspy cadence of love, eagerly pressing his nose to the wet material of your panties, taking in your scent.

fake boyfriend! caleb who suckles sloppy, dark hickies into the plush fat of your inner thighs, working his way up to your core. Bruises bloom across the expanse of your skin, trailing wherever his lips find purchase on you. You’re aching now, desperate for him to devour you but helplessly watching him litter his love on your thighs. Your fingers thread into his dark locks, pulling him closer with a soft whine.

“Caleb, please…” You can hardly recognize your own voice, whiny and needy for his lavish attention. “Please don’t tease.”

fake boyfriend! caleb who chuckles softly and abides by your sweet pleas. His soft, wet tongue makes contact with your soft folds, laving the wet muscle over your throbbing clit, groaning like a starved man at your sweet taste. It's better than he could've ever imagined. Spurred by the delicate harmony of your moans, he devotes himself to pleasuring you, intently watching your expressions with great care. He wants to know everything— what colors you blush, what makes your toes curl, he wants your fingers pulling at his hair, and whining his name like a prayer.

fake boyfriend! caleb who makes you cum alarmingly quick when he pushes two fingers into your sopping hole, stretching out his pretty girl. He watches his fingers piston in and out of your squelching hole, enamored with the way your cunt sucks him in like a black hole. Your cunt spasms around his digits, velvety walls fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm washes over you.

"You're so cute, pipsqueak. So, so cute." He coos, pressing light kisses to your throbbing bundle of nerves before smearing his fingers, covered in your release, across your lips.

fake boyfriend! caleb who asks for consent (he would never want to make you uncomfortable) before pulling out his cock. Your jaw falls slack when you see his pulsing length. He's big and thick with one prominent vein running on the underside and pearly beads of pre-cum dribbling from his tip. For a moment you wonder what it would feel like if it pulsed on your tongue, how it would feel to have him shooting ropes of cum into your womb. 'I'm screwed,' you think to yourself but your body opposes and your core aches to be filled again.

fake boyfriend! caleb who thinks he's just ascended above skyhaven when his tip notches against your entrance.

"Oh, fuck—" His forehead falls onto your shoulder, a series of whines and pleas falls from his lips, feverishly pressing kisses onto your skin, anything to make him last a little longer as he pushes inch by inch into the velvety walls of your tight cunt.

fake boyfriend! caleb who watches your eyes roll back when he finally bottoms out, balls resting against the soft curve of your ass. He takes a moment to admire your pretty frame, the sweat glistening on your chest, heavy breaths that leave your tits heaving, and the dull pain of your nails leaving crescent shapes in the meat of his biceps. Caleb doesn't think he can ever let you go.

"I love you. Fuck, I love you." The words fall from his lips like a mantra as he fucks you, folding your knees onto his shoulder. His cock splits you open, pressing and abusing your g-spot every time his hips meet yours. The room quickly fills with the harmony of desperate whines and moans, littered with I love you's that're quickly engulfed in messy, hurried kisses.

fake boyfriend! caleb who cums with you when you whisper your confession into his ear, like a little secret between the two of you. His hips stutter and he's suddenly shooting hot, white ropes of cum into your fluttering pussy, milking him dry and filling you up.

fake boyfriend! caleb who collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his toned arms and pulling you close to his warm body, pressing soothing kisses to your temple, cheeks, nose, and finally onto your lips.

"I love you," he confesses. His words are hushed and speak of the longing and teetering of the line that the two of you hesitated to cross for years.

"I love you too," you reply, pressing a trail of gentle kisses along his jaw as your fingers intertwine with his. Your body feels sore and full, heart content, and so, so loved.

He presses his lips to yours once again, smiling gently before soothing you to sleep. He'll always be by your side, no matter what happens. He'll be right there.

lovesick! caleb who... loves you a little more than you realize.

first fic hehe

thx for reading <3

[hsjazebel]

Meant to be

Summary: Y/N never expected a college party to change anything—until she met Harry. What starts as a quiet connection over books and movies slowly turns into something deeper, proving that some things are simply meant to be.

Wordcount: 32k+ (I have been carried away, sorry 😅)

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! ♡ Here’s a little story about love finding you when you least expect it. Hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

— — —

The party was louder than she expected.

Y/N wasn’t sure why she had let Charlotte convince her to come. Maybe it was the way her roommate had pleaded, eyes wide with excitement, promising it would be “just for an hour.” Or maybe it was the fact that she had spent too many Friday nights curled up in bed while the rest of campus buzzed with energy.

She had thought, just for once, that maybe she should say yes.

But now, standing in the middle of the crowded living room, she regretted it.

The music thumped against the walls, the bass so deep she could feel it in her ribs. Laughter and voices blurred together in an endless hum, broken only by the occasional shout of someone calling out to a friend. The air was thick—too many people, too much perfume, too much heat.

She tugged at the hem of her sweater, suddenly self-conscious. She wasn’t dressed for this, not like the other girls in shimmering tops and short skirts. She had gone for comfort—jeans, a fitted top, her favorite oversized cardigan—but now she felt out of place, like she hadn’t read the unspoken dress code.

Charlotte had disappeared almost immediately, swallowed up by the crowd, probably off to find that guy she’d been texting. Y/N had tried to follow for a bit, but the sea of people made it impossible to keep up.

Now she was alone, pressed against the wall, holding a drink she hadn’t even sipped.

She exhaled, glancing toward the front door. Maybe she could just leave. Charlotte wouldn’t mind—she was too caught up in her own night.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted an open door leading to the balcony.

Without thinking, she headed for it, slipping outside and closing the door behind her.

Cool air washed over her, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat inside. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and leaned against the railing, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal. The city stretched out in front of her, distant lights flickering against the night sky. From here, the noise of the party was muffled, just a dull hum beneath the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle over her.

And then—

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

The voice was smooth, warm. British.

Her eyes snapped open.

Turning slightly, she found herself face to face with someone she recognized immediately.

Harry Styles.

Her breath hitched, just for a second.

She had seen him around before, of course. It was hard not to notice him. He wasn’t the typical loud, overly confident guy that thrived in these kinds of settings, but he had a presence that made people gravitate toward him anyway. Maybe it was the way he carried himself—calm, collected, always with an air of quiet amusement, like he was in on some inside joke no one else knew about.

Now, standing in front of her in the dim balcony light, he looked impossibly at ease.

His dark curls were pushed back messily, a few strands falling over his forehead. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, framing sharp green eyes that studied her with quiet interest. His loose button-up was unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the intricate tattoos winding down his forearms.

He held a drink casually in one hand, the other tucked into his pocket, like he had all the time in the world.

She swallowed.

“I—uh—yeah,” she finally managed. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

His lips quirked, as if her answer didn’t surprise him at all. “Figured as much.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how exactly did you figure that?”

He took a slow sip from his drink before answering. “Well, for one, you’ve been out here for at least five minutes and haven’t checked your phone once.” His eyes flickered toward the door. “And two… you look like you’re trying to disappear.”

She huffed out a quiet laugh. “That obvious?”

Harry smirked. “A little.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city lights flickered in the distance, and the air between them felt charged—not uncomfortable, but something else entirely.

Then, he shifted slightly, turning more toward her.

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

She let out a small breath, amused. As if she didn’t already know.

“I know,” she admitted, then immediately winced. “I mean—everyone knows who you are.”

Harry chuckled, the sound low and warm. “That’s fair.” He tilted his head slightly. “And you are…?”

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, softer this time, like he was testing the way it felt on his tongue. Then, with a small smile, he extended his hand. “Well, Y/N, it’s nice to officially meet you.”

She hesitated for just a second before slipping her hand into his.

His palm was warm, his grip gentle but firm.

“Nice to meet you too, Harry.”

His fingers lingered a second longer than necessary before he let go.

He leaned his elbow against the railing, glancing at her thoughtfully. “So, if parties aren’t your thing… what would you rather be doing right now?”

She bit her lip, thinking. “Watching a movie, probably.”

Harry’s brows lifted slightly. “Anything in particular?”

She hesitated, then decided to be honest. “A romcom.”

His lips curled into a slow smile. “You like romcoms?”

She nodded. “I grew up watching them. Notting Hill, 10 Things I Hate About You, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days… I know they’re cheesy, but I love them.”

He studied her for a second, then let out a soft chuckle. “Cheesy doesn’t mean bad. Those are classics.”

She tilted her head. “Wait… you actually like them too?”

Harry smirked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Course I do. I mean, have you seen When Harry Met Sally? It’s got my name in it. That’s a sign, don’t you think?”

She laughed—really laughed, for the first time that night.

Harry watched her, his expression softer now, like he was pleased to be the reason behind it.

The conversation flowed easier after that. They debated over the best romcom of all time, exchanged favorite scenes, and argued about which movie had the most unrealistic yet satisfying ending. Somewhere in between, Y/N forgot about the party altogether.

But eventually, her phone buzzed in her pocket—Charlotte, probably looking for her.

She sighed, realizing she had to go.

Harry noticed. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She hesitated, then, feeling unusually bold, added, “But… maybe next time, I’ll skip the party and just watch a romcom instead.”

His smile was slow, almost knowing. “Maybe next time, you won’t have to watch it alone.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

And as she stepped back inside, disappearing into the noise and the crowd, she couldn’t help but hope—just a little—that this was only the beginning.

———

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sound of Charlotte’s voice.

“Well, well, well,” her roommate drawled, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Look who’s finally awake.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face into the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” Charlotte said, walking over and flopping down onto the bed beside her. “And you have some explaining to do.”

Y/N peeked at her through one eye. “Explaining?”

Charlotte grinned, far too awake for this early in the morning. “Don’t play innocent with me. You disappeared at the party. And when I finally found you again, you looked… different.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “So spill.”

Y/N sighed, rolling onto her back. “There’s nothing to spill.”

Charlotte gasped dramatically. “Lies! I saw you talking to Harry Styles.” She poked Y/N’s side. “You—quiet, book-loving, avoider of all social gatherings—somehow ended up alone on a balcony with the most intriguing guy on campus.”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “It wasn’t like that,” she muttered.

Charlotte smirked. “Then what was it like?”

Y/N hesitated. The truth was, she wasn’t exactly sure.

“It was… nice,” she admitted after a moment. “We just talked.”

Charlotte studied her, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Talked? That’s it?”

Y/N nodded.

Charlotte huffed, flopping back against the bed. “You’re impossible.”

Y/N smiled, sitting up and stretching. “Did you at least have fun?”

Charlotte let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, absolutely. And I might have secured myself a coffee date with Mason.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Mason?”

“You know, Harry’s friend? Tall, kind of scruffy, ridiculously charming?” Charlotte waggled her fingers. “I think we have a connection.”

Y/N laughed softly. “I’m happy for you.”

Charlotte sat up again, her expression turning devious. “And speaking of coffee dates…”

Y/N’s stomach fluttered. “No.”

Charlotte pouted. “Come on! I think he likes you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We talked for, like, twenty minutes.”

Charlotte shrugged. “That’s plenty of time to make an impression. And if he really likes you, you’ll see him again.”

Y/N didn’t answer. Because the thought had already crossed her mind.

Would she see him again?

———

She did.

Three days later.

At the campus café.

Y/N had been curled up in a corner booth, a warm cup of tea beside her as she flipped through a book for class. The café was quiet, filled mostly with students studying or catching up on assignments. The hum of conversation and the occasional clinking of cups created the kind of atmosphere she loved—calm, steady, familiar.

And then, a shadow fell over her table.

“Y/N.”

She looked up.

And there he was.

Harry Styles, standing beside her table, a cup of coffee in one hand and a curious tilt to his head. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, but she still recognized the quiet amusement in his eyes.

“Hi,” she said, feeling her heart pick up speed.

His lips twitched. “Mind if I sit?”

She hesitated for only a second before shaking her head. “Go ahead.”

Harry slid into the seat across from her, setting his coffee down. “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Alright, I might have hoped I would.”

Her stomach did an embarrassing little flip.

“What are you reading?” he asked, nodding toward the book in her hands.

She glanced down, suddenly self-conscious. “Uh, Wuthering Heights.”

His brows lifted, impressed. “Intense choice.”

She shrugged. “It’s for class, but I like it.”

Harry studied her for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, stretching out comfortably. “So, tell me—are you one of those people who think Heathcliff is romantic, or do you see him for the walking red flag that he is?”

Y/N blinked in surprise. “You’ve read it?”

He smirked. “I have.”

She bit her lip, eyeing him. “And?”

Harry sighed dramatically. “Look, I get the passion, the whole ‘soulmate across time and space’ thing, but let’s be honest—if Heathcliff were around today, he’d be sending late-night ‘u up?’ texts and brooding over his ex’s Instagram posts.”

Y/N let out a surprised laugh. “That is… disturbingly accurate.”

Harry grinned. “And you? Are you a Heathcliff apologist?”

She shook her head. “I think he and Cathy deserved each other—because no one else should have to deal with that level of drama.”

Harry chuckled. “Harsh, but fair.”

There was something about the way he looked at her—curious, amused, like he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. It made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t used to.

A beat of silence stretched between them.

Then—

“So,” Harry said, breaking the moment, “you never told me your verdict.”

Y/N frowned. “My verdict?”

“The best romcom of all time.”

She smiled, relieved by the lighter topic. “That’s impossible to answer.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright. Then let’s make it simpler. What’s your go-to comfort movie?”

She thought for a second. “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”

His eyes lit up. “Classic.”

She nodded. “It’s just fun, you know? The whole fake dating thing, the ridiculousness of it all. And Kate Hudson? Iconic.”

Harry smirked. “And the ‘You let it die!’ scene? A cinematic masterpiece.”

Y/N laughed. “Exactly.”

Harry studied her for a moment, then said, “I like that.”

Y/N suddenly felt warm under his gaze. She looked down, tracing the rim of her cup. “What about you?”

Harry pretended to think. “Mmm… Notting Hill.”

She grinned. “Oh, come on. You just like it because of the ‘I’m just a girl’ scene.”

He laughed. “Maybe. Or maybe I like the idea that two people from completely different worlds can still find their way to each other.”

Something about the way he said it made her stomach flutter.

The conversation drifted after that—talk of books, movies, little things that made them both feel at home. The more they spoke, the more Y/N felt that strange, unexpected ease settle between them.

And when she finally glanced at the time, she realized an hour had passed without her even noticing.

“I should probably get to class,” she murmured, closing her book.

Harry nodded, but didn’t look particularly eager to leave.

As she stood, sliding her bag over her shoulder, he tapped his fingers against the table. “So…”

She looked at him expectantly.

He smirked. “Movie night?”

Her heart skipped. “Are you asking me out, Harry Styles?”

His expression was all mischief. “Maybe.”

She bit her lip, pretending to consider. Then, feeling unusually bold, she said, “Okay.”

Harry’s smirk turned into something softer.

“Good,” he said.

And as she walked away, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.

———

The library was quieter than usual.

Y/N liked it that way. She liked the solitude, the way the world seemed to shrink down to just her and the words on the page. It was calming—predictable.

What she didn’t expect, however, was a voice breaking through the silence.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to hide away in a library for fun.”

She looked up, already knowing who she would see.

Harry stood in front of her table, a familiar smirk on his lips, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He had a notebook tucked under his arm and a coffee in hand, looking completely at ease despite the way his presence sent her heart racing.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “And yet, here you are.”

Harry hummed, sliding into the chair across from her. “Touché.”

She watched as he set his coffee down and flipped open his notebook, as if he belonged there—like this was routine.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually here to study, or are you just bothering me for fun?”

Harry grinned. “Can it be both?”

She huffed, biting back a smile as she returned her gaze to her book. But she could still feel his eyes on her.

A beat passed before he spoke again. “Wuthering Heights, huh? Still brooding over Heathcliff?”

Y/N sighed, looking up. “You do realize I read more than one book, right?”

Harry’s smirk widened. “Do you, now?”

She rolled her eyes and turned the book so he could see the title.

His gaze flickered over the cover before he raised an eyebrow. “White Nights?”

Y/N tilted her head. “Surprised?”

Harry leaned back in his chair, studying her. “A little. Didn’t take you for a Dostoevsky kind of girl.”

“And what kind of girl did you take me for?” she challenged.

He smirked. “Jane Austen, maybe. Brontë sisters, definitely. But Russian literature? That’s a surprise.”

She shrugged. “I like stories about lonely people.”

Something flickered in his expression, but it was gone too fast for her to catch.

“Lonely people,” he repeated. “And here I thought you just liked tragic love stories.”

Y/N hesitated, then said softly, “Aren’t they the same thing?”

Harry studied her for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, in a voice quieter than before, he said, “I guess they are.”

Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like something had shifted—like she had let him see a part of her she didn’t show to just anyone.

Then, after a moment, Harry’s lips twitched up into a smile. “So, is White Nights a re-read, or am I catching you in the middle of a first-time experience?”

She exhaled, grateful for the change in tone. “Re-read.”

His grin widened. “Interesting. That means you must really like it.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you about to judge my taste in books?”

Harry smirked. “Not at all. I was actually going to say… maybe I should let you convince me to read it.”

Y/N studied him. “You’ve never read it?”

“Not yet,” he admitted.

A small smile played on her lips. “Maybe you should.”

Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe I will.”

———

That night, her phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

Unknown [9:07 PM]: So, lonely people, huh? Convince me why I should read White Nights.

Y/N frowned, staring at the screen. Who the hell—?

Y/N [9:08 PM]: Who is this?

A pause. Then—

Unknown [9:08 PM]: Wow. That hurts.

Her heart skipped.

She squinted at the message, then at the number, but it wasn’t saved in her contacts.

Y/N [9:09 PM]: Seriously. Who is this??

A few seconds passed before a reply popped up.

Unknown [9:09 PM]: It’s Harry.

She blinked.

Then—

Y/N [9:10 PM]: …How did you get my number?

Harry [9:11 PM]: Your lovely roommate gave it to me.

Y/N groaned out loud. “Charlotte!”

Across the room, Charlotte barely glanced up from her laptop. “Hmm?”

Y/N waved her phone in the air. “Did you seriously give Harry my number?”

Charlotte smirked. “Oh. So he finally texted you?”

“Charlotte.”

“What?” she said innocently. “He asked, and I figured it would take you forever to do it yourself.”

Y/N let out a long, dramatic sigh, turning her attention back to the screen.

Y/N [9:12 PM]: I hate you.

Harry [9:12 PM]: No, you don’t.

She rolled her eyes.

Y/N [9:13 PM]: Maybe you should read it and see for yourself.

Harry [9:14 PM]: Bold of you to assume I have time for Russian literature.

Y/N [9:15 PM]: Bold of you to assume I’d let you borrow my copy.

Harry [9:16 PM]: So possessive. I like it.

Y/N [9:17 PM]: You’re impossible.

Harry [9:17 PM]: And yet, here you are, still texting me.

She bit her lip, trying not to smile.

Harry [9:18 PM]: You still good for our not-date movie night?

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

Y/N [9:19 PM]: You mean the highly academic film screening of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?

Harry [9:20 PM]: Exactly. For research purposes.

She hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen.

Y/N [9:21 PM]: Yeah. I’m still in.

His reply came almost instantly.

Harry [9:21 PM]: Good.

She stared at the word for a long time, ignoring the way her face felt impossibly warm.

———

“You’ve checked your phone three times in the last minute.”

Y/N shot Charlotte a glare from across the room. “I have not.”

Charlotte smirked, finishing the last touches of her makeup. “You so have.”

Y/N huffed, locking her phone and tossing it onto the bed like that would somehow make her friend drop the topic. “I’m just checking the time.”

“Mm-hmm.” Charlotte turned, arms crossed. “Because, of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that Harry is coming over.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her face felt warm. “It’s just a movie night.”

Charlotte grinned. “And yet, you’ve changed your sweater twice.”

Y/N groaned, flopping back onto her pillows. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Charlotte grabbed her bag, checking her reflection in the mirror. “I think it’s cute that you’re all flustered over him.”

“I’m not flustered.”

Charlotte raised a brow. “You are so flustered.”

Y/N groaned again, covering her face with a pillow.

A knock at the door made her sit up way too fast.

Charlotte smirked knowingly. “That’s my cue.”

Y/N watched as Charlotte opened the door, revealing Harry—standing there in his usual effortless way, glasses on, a bag of snacks in one hand.

“Oh, hey, Harry,” Charlotte greeted with a grin, throwing Y/N one last look. “I was just leaving.”

Harry glanced between them, looking mildly amused. “Leaving?”

“Yep.” Charlotte winked at Y/N. “Have fun.”

And before Y/N could even form a reply, she was gone.

Harry stepped inside, brow raised. “Did I just interrupt something?”

Y/N exhaled, shaking her head. “No. She’s just being Charlotte.”

Harry chuckled, setting the snacks down. “That explains a lot.”

Settling onto the couch, Y/N pressed play on 27 Dresses, tucking her legs under her.

Harry sat beside her, stretching his arm along the back of the couch. The space between them was small—too small—and she tried not to focus on the way his knee almost brushed hers.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked.

She scoffed. “Please. At least twenty times.”

Harry smiled. “Figures.”

For the first half hour, they made occasional comments about the movie—Harry teasing her about knowing all the lines, Y/N defending why it was a romcom classic.

But eventually, the room grew quieter. The soft glow of the screen cast shadows across Harry’s face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the way his glasses slid down his nose.

And Y/N—despite her best efforts to stay focused on the film—felt her eyelids growing heavy.

She shifted slightly, trying to stay awake, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of the dialogue, and the presence of Harry right beside her made it impossible.

At some point, she leaned just a little too far to the side—

And before she could stop herself, her head landed gently on his shoulder.

For a second, she almost panicked.

But Harry didn’t move. Didn’t pull away.

If anything, he relaxed.

She felt him shift slightly, adjusting so that she fit more comfortably against him.

And just like that, sleep took over.

———

The next morning, the first thing Y/N registered was warmth.

A slow, steady warmth surrounding her, lulling her in a sleepy haze.

Then, she felt movement.

Her eyes fluttered open, and it took her a moment to realize:

She was curled into Harry’s side, his arm draped loosely around her shoulders.

The snack bag was on the floor. The TV screen had long since gone black. The early morning light was filtering through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room.

And Harry—

Was still asleep.

His head rested against the back of the couch, lips slightly parted, curls falling across his forehead. His glasses were slightly askew, one arm still tucked around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N barely breathed.

She should move. Should sit up, stretch, do anything to break the moment before he woke up.

But before she could, she felt him shift.

A slow inhale. A stretch.

And then, with a small frown, Harry’s eyes blinked open.

For a second, he looked confused. Disoriented.

Then, his gaze landed on her.

They both froze.

Silence.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

And then—

Harry’s lips twitched, still laced with sleep. “Morning.”

Y/N swallowed. “Morning.”

Another pause.

Then, realization dawned in Harry’s sleepy eyes. He glanced down at their position—her body still tucked into his side, his arm still loosely wrapped around her.

And yet—he didn’t move away.

Instead, his mouth curved into something softer.

“Didn’t mean to steal your couch,” he murmured.

Y/N huffed out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t mean to steal your shoulder.”

Harry smiled.

And for a moment, they just… sat there.

Close. Warm. Unmoving.

Y/N was still sitting on the couch, trying to process the fact that she’d just spent the night curled up against Harry Styles, when she heard him stretch beside her.

She glanced over. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, one hand running through his curls, the other adjusting his glasses.

And he looked… way too good for someone who had just woken up.

Before she could stop herself, she spoke.

“Do you—” She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “Do you want some coffee?”

Harry turned to her, blinking.

Then, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Are you offering me coffee, Y/N?”

She rolled her eyes, standing up. “I regret it already.”

Harry chuckled, pushing himself up from the couch. “Too late.”

———

They ended up in the small dorm kitchen, Y/N fumbling with the coffee machine while Harry leaned against the counter, watching her with amusement.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to function without caffeine,” he said.

She scoffed. “Who says I function at all?”

Harry smirked. “Fair point.”

Once the coffee was ready, she handed him a mug, grabbing one for herself before hopping up onto the counter.

Harry took a slow sip, humming in approval. “Not bad.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Not bad?”

“Yeah.” He nudged her knee playfully. “Could be better.”

She gasped in mock offense. “You are such a snob.”

Harry grinned. “I have high standards.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling.

They fell into comfortable conversation, talking about everything from classes to 27 Dresses to how Harry apparently had a very strong opinion about the correct way to make tea.

And Y/N—despite the fact that she had woken up to a situation that should have been extremely awkward—found herself relaxing.

That was, of course, until Charlotte walked in.

She stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight before her—Harry standing in the kitchen, hair still tousled from sleep, drinking coffee from their mugs.

Y/N sitting on the counter, wearing the same clothes from last night.

Charlotte’s eyes widened.

Then, a slow smirk spread across her face.

“Oh,” she said, drawing out the word. “Good morning.”

Y/N groaned. “Charlotte—”

Charlotte ignored her, turning to Harry with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Wow, Harry. You’re still here?”

Harry, to Y/N’s horror, grinned.

“Apparently, I make decent company, and your couch is not too bad” he said, sipping his coffee.

Charlotte gasped dramatically. “Did Y/N let you sleep on the couch? That is so rude.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Charlotte.”

Charlotte pressed a hand to her heart. “I mean, I was gone all night, you totally could’ve used my bed—”

Y/N almost choked on her coffee. “Oh my God, stop.”

Charlotte just smirked, eyes dancing between them. “I’m just saying…”

Y/N glared. “You’re the worst.”

Harry chuckled, setting down his mug. “I should probably get going before Mason starts wondering where I am.”

He turned to Y/N then, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he murmured.

She swallowed. “Yeah. Anytime.”

Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows.

Y/N shot her a warning look.

Harry—completely amused—grabbed his bag and made his way to the door.

“See you later, Y/N.”

And with that, he was gone.

Y/N barely had time to let out a breath before Charlotte pounced.

“So.”

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Don’t.”

Charlotte ignored her, flopping onto the couch with a wicked grin. “You slept together.”

“Oh my God—”

“Not like that,” Charlotte amended. “But still. You slept together.”

Y/N groaned. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Charlotte scoffed. “Oh, honey. It so was.”

———

Y/N had spent the entire morning convincing herself that nothing had changed.

That waking up next to Harry hadn’t felt different.

That the way he had smiled at her over coffee hadn’t made her stomach flip.

That she wasn’t replaying every second of their time together like some lovesick idiot.

But she was failing—miserably.

And Charlotte wasn’t helping.

“So,” her roommate drawled, flipping through a magazine on her bed, “are we just gonna pretend that last night never happened?”

Y/N, sitting at her desk, sighed. “Nothing happened.”

Charlotte scoffed. “You cuddled on the couch, made him coffee in the morning, and practically gazed at each other the whole time. That’s something.”

Y/N turned to glare at her. “I wasn’t gazing.”

Charlotte smirked. “Oh, honey. You were gazing.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her head onto her desk.

Charlotte laughed, tossing the magazine aside. “Look, all I’m saying is—he’s different, isn’t he?”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I mean, I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy. You usually keep your distance, but with Harry… I don’t know. You let him in.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest—but nothing came out.

Because, as much as she hated to admit it, Charlotte wasn’t wrong.

Harry was different.

And that was what scared her the most.

———

That afternoon, she tried to focus on studying.

Tried being the keyword.

She was in the library, sitting at her usual spot by the window, but the words on the page blurred together.

Her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, already knowing who it was.

Harry [3:27 PM]: You’re not skipping the library today, are you?

Y/N [3:28 PM]: I’m literally here right now.

Harry [3:29 PM]: Good. Would’ve had to question your commitment to academia otherwise.

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips.

A minute later, she heard a chair scrape against the floor.

She looked up.

Harry slid into the seat across from her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

Y/N tried to ignore the way her heartbeat definitely sped up. “Hi.”

He set down his bag and pulled out a book. “What are we studying today?”

Y/N sighed. “I’m trying to get through this reading, but it’s not working.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Do you want me to quiz you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You just got here.”

He smirked. “And?”

She shook her head, amused. “Fine.”

And so, they studied. Or at least, they tried.

Every time Harry read a passage aloud, he did it with exaggerated dramatics, making Y/N laugh.

Whenever she got an answer right, he’d tap his fingers against the table like a drumroll.

At some point, he reached for her book, fingers grazing hers—and neither of them pulled away.

The touch was brief, but her skin tingled where it had been.

Harry didn’t say anything, but his gaze flickered to hers, something unspoken lingering between them.

For the first time, Y/N felt like she was on the edge of something.

And she didn’t know whether to step forward—or run.

———

An hour later, Y/N packed up her things.

“I should go,” she murmured.

Harry nodded, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Alright.”

She hesitated before speaking. “Thanks for—y’know. Keeping me sane.”

Harry’s lips quirked. “Anytime.”

As she turned to leave, he called after her

“Oh, Y/N?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

Harry reached into his bag, pulling out a book.

She frowned as he held it out to her.

“The Symposium?” she read aloud, eyebrows raised.

Harry smirked. “Figured you might like it.”

She stared at him. “Harry, this is your copy.”

He shrugged. “So?”

“So, I know you annotate all your books.” She flipped through the pages, confirming her suspicions—his familiar, neat handwriting filled the margins. “I can’t take this.”

“You can,” he said simply. “And you will.”

She glanced up at him, confused. “But… why?”

Harry held her gaze for a moment, then leaned in slightly.

“Because I think you’ll understand it,” he murmured.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Because there was weight behind his words—something deeper than just a casual book recommendation.

She swallowed, gripping the book a little tighter.

“…Thank you,” she said softly.

Harry smiled. “See you later, Y/N.”

And as she walked away, The Symposium pressed against her chest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

That, maybe, she had just crossed a line she could never go back from.

———

The night wrapped around them like a quiet secret. The streets were nearly empty, the world softened by the golden glow of streetlamps.

Y/N and Harry walked side by side, their steps unhurried, as if neither of them wanted the night to end just yet.

She wasn’t sure how they ended up here—how a simple goodnight after studying turned into do you want to take a walk? But she didn’t regret saying yes.

It had been a week since that night at her apartment, since they’d woken up together on the couch, and things between them had shifted. Not in an obvious way—there were no declarations, no grand confessions—but something had changed.

Harry had always looked at her like he was intrigued. But now?

Now, he looked at her like he knew. Like he was just waiting for her to admit it, too.

“You’re quiet,” Harry murmured beside her.

She glanced at him. “So are you.”

He smiled, a little crooked. “Guess I don’t always have something to say.”

“Impossible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Harsh.”

They walked a little further before she spoke again, a quiet admission in the stillness of the night.

“I read your notes.”

Harry turned his head slightly. “My notes?”

“In The Symposium.”

Realization flickered in his expression. “Right.”

She hesitated. “There was one part that stuck with me.”

His gaze softened. “Which one?”

Y/N swallowed.

“The part where you wrote that love is about recognizing something familiar in someone else.”

Harry didn’t speak right away.

Then, quietly, he said, “That’s my favorite part.”

Y/N stopped walking.

So did he.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with something.

She could feel her pulse thrumming in her wrists, in her throat, in the space between them that was growing smaller by the second.

Harry took a step closer. Slowly. Like he was giving her time to stop him.

She didn’t.

His gaze flickered to her lips, just for a second, before meeting her eyes again.

His voice was softer when he spoke next. “You realize I like you, don’t you?”

Y/N felt something tighten in her chest.

Because, of course, she did.

But hearing it—feeling it—was different.

She exhaled, barely a whisper. “I think I do now.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good.”

He didn’t move right away.

He just looked at her, taking her in, like he was memorizing the moment.

Then, so softly it was almost imperceptible, his fingers brushed against hers.

Y/N inhaled sharply.

And that was all it took.

Before she could second-guess it, before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the space between them.

She barely had time to process the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his breath, before his hand came up, fingers grazing her jaw as he leaned in—slow, careful, waiting.

And then—

Then, he kissed her.

It was soft at first. Just a whisper of a touch, a silent question against her lips.

But the moment she kissed him back, the moment her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, it changed.

It deepened.

Harry let out a quiet sound—like he had been waiting for this longer than he cared to admit—and then his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, closer, like the space between them was unbearable.

Her heart was racing.

She could feel the warmth of his palms, the faint scrape of his stubble against her skin, the way he kissed her like he was learning her—like he wanted to know exactly how she fit against him.

And she let him.

By the time they pulled apart, her head was spinning, her breath uneven.

Harry’s forehead rested against hers, and he let out a quiet laugh.

“What?” she asked, still breathless.

He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing. Just… glad I finally did that.”

She bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to smile.

“Me too.”

Harry’s thumb brushed against her waist absentmindedly.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked.

Y/N nodded.

But neither of them moved.

Not right away.

And when they finally started walking again, Harry’s fingers found hers, intertwining them effortlessly—like they had been waiting to do that, too.

———

It had only been a couple of weeks since that night—their first kiss under the dim glow of the streetlights—but things between them had changed so much.

Not in an overwhelming way. Not in a way that made Y/N feel rushed or pressured.

But in a way that made her soften.

In a way that made it impossible to ignore how utterly smitten Harry was.

It was in the way he always found a reason to touch her, even in the smallest ways—fingertips brushing against hers when they walked, absentmindedly tucking her hair behind her ear when she was focused on something, resting his chin on her shoulder just because he could.

It was in the way he remembered things, like how she liked her coffee and how she hated the sound of loud chewing. In the way he always waited for her outside class even when they had different schedules. In the way he looked at her, like he was always choosing to.

Like he couldn’t believe she was real.

Today was no different.

Y/N sat curled up on the library couch, actually trying to get some work done, while Harry sat beside her, flipping through a book he had absolutely no interest in.

At least, that’s what she assumed—because instead of reading, he was staring at her.

She sighed, setting her pen down. “Harry.”

“Hm?” He looked unbothered, too comfortable as he rested his head against the back of the couch.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

She shot him a pointed look.

He smirked, unfazed. “Looking at my girlfriend?”

Her stomach flipped.

Even after two weeks, the word still did something to her.

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were warm, and Harry knew it.

With a quiet chuckle, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers, absentmindedly running his thumb across the back of her palm.

“Should I be studying?” he murmured, lips twitching.

She nodded. “Yes.”

Harry pretended to consider it. Then, with zero hesitation, he squeezed her hand and dragged it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“Too bad,” he murmured against her skin.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

This boy.

She was so doomed.

———

Y/N had tried to keep things subtle.

Not because she wanted to hide it, but because Charlotte was the biggest menace when it came to teasing her, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that just yet.

Too bad Charlotte noticed everything.

Like the way Y/N smiled at her phone when she thought no one was looking. The way she suspiciously left the dorm at night with an “I’ll be back later.” The way she got flustered when Harry’s name came up in conversation.

She had her suspicions, but she didn’t have proof.

Until now.

Because today, as Charlotte was walking toward the dorm, she saw them.

Saw Harry pressing a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. Saw the way she leaned into him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And that was all she needed.

“I KNEW IT!”

Y/N jumped, turning to find Charlotte standing a few feet away with the biggest, most victorious grin on her face.

“Oh my God,” Y/N muttered.

Harry—who clearly wasn’t fazed at all—simply raised an eyebrow. “Did you, though?”

Charlotte turned to him, still grinning. “YES. I just didn’t have evidence.” She turned back to Y/N, wiggling her eyebrows. “But now I do.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Charlotte sing-songed.

Harry chuckled, amused, before leaning down and whispering into Y/N’s ear, “I’ll leave you to it, sweetheart.”

She sighed dramatically. “Coward.”

He smirked, kissed the side of her head one last time, and walked away, leaving her to deal with Charlotte’s relentless interrogation.

Y/N was so in trouble.

———

After an hour of being mercilessly teased, Y/N flopped onto her bed, groaning in frustration.

Charlotte smirked from across the room. “Oh, come on, you love me.”

“Debatable,” Y/N muttered, reaching for her phone.

She scrolled through her messages before typing.

Y/N [10:08 PM]: I officially hate you.

Harry [10:09 PM]: That’s unfortunate.

Y/N [10:09 PM]: Charlotte won’t stop teasing me. This is your fault.

Harry [10:10 PM]: Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you, won’t I?

Y/N froze, rereading the message at least three times.

Before she could even think of a response, there was a quiet knock on the door.

Charlotte and Y/N shared a look.

Y/N opened it—and there he was.

Harry stood there, a lazy smirk on his lips, holding a small pastry in a white paper bag.

“Hey,” he murmured.

Y/N blinked.

Charlotte—who was watching the whole thing unfold—snorted. “Oh, my God. You are so whipped.”

Harry didn’t even deny it.

He just shrugged, handed Y/N the bag, and kissed her temple like it was the most normal thing in the world.

When she looked inside, she found her favorite pastry, the one from the café across campus.

She looked back up at him, eyes soft. “You went all the way to—“

Harry simply shrugged. “Felt like it”

Y/N pressed her lips together, trying not to melt right then and there.

Charlotte, however, had no such restraint. “You two are disgusting”, she muttered, rolling her eyes before dramatically throwing a pillow over her head.

Harry chuckled, then leaned down and whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Worth it.”

And just like that, Y/N knew—

She was so, so screwed.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, afab!reader, kidnapping, captivity, semi-public sex, and wildly unbalanced power dynamics.

Valentine's Day is Satoru's favorite.

Suguru likes Halloween more (albeit, mostly the part where they dress you up in a slutty costume and fuck you with a B-rated horror movie playing in the background), but he's got a soft spot for anything that makes Satoru happy. You think something about the shamelessness of it all appeals to him - pale pink stuffed animals tall enough to reach your waist, boxes of sickeningly sweet chocolate that you'll never get around to finishing, gifts that serve no other purpose than to affirm your love for him. Of course, you can't actually get either of them much of anything, not with so many locks on the apartment door, but he and Suguru still do their best to make the day special.

Your morning starts early. Suguru sweeps you out of bed while Satoru sleeps in, holding his hand over your mouth as he explains exactly what'll happen if you ruin his little surprise. Predictably, it involves lingerie - all pink silk and red lace and unnecessary frills. He gives you a white teddy bear before taking you back to the bedroom, a heart-shaped pillow embroidered with a cursive 'Be Mine' cradled in its plush arms.

A few minutes later, he'll guide your hips as you grind against its expressionless face, Satoru's cock lodged halfway down your throat.

If you're lucky, they'll get called away shortly after the first round - to tend to their students or to handle some curse, you aren't picky when it comes to what gets them away from them. If you're not lucky, Suguru will suck love-bites into your chest while Satoru makes breakfast, occasionally calling you into the kitchen to try pancake batter or grimace while he licks whip-cream directly off of your cheek. You aren't allowed to hold cutlery, not after trying to gauge out Satoru's eyes with a butter knife shortly after your abduction, so they'll take turns feeding you before leaving for the day, Satoru pressing kisses into your cheeks and promising he'll be back soon while Suguru laughs and shakes his head.

While they're gone, you'll wander aimlessly, picking at your meager list of chores (vacuuming, laundry, etc. - enough to keep you sane, but not enough to stave off the restlessness) and generally lamenting your pitiful existence. When you find the teddy bear thrown haphazardly into a corner of their bedroom, you'll consider trying to wash it before tearing its seams open with a pair of safety scissors and hiding its disparate pieces in different places around the apartment for lack of a better way to get rid of them. You'll try to sleep the time away, but you won't be able to.

It's dark by the time they get home. Suguru made reservations months ago that you're already running late for, so you'll be allowed to dress yourself for the first time in as long as you can remember. Going out is treated like a privilege, something you ought to be thankful for, but it's hard to be appreciative with Satoru's arm wrapped so snugly around your waist, with Suguru hovering behind you, occasionally resting a hand on the back of your neck whenever you gaze lingers a little too long on any one thing. Satoru slips the hostess a bill that might've made your mouth water a little over a year ago, and you're seated at a table on the outskirts of the dining area, well hidden from prying eyes. They'll make conversation that you try and fail not to join in on, and after ordering dessert, Satoru's hand will slip under the hem of your dress. You'll ask to leave before the food reaches the table, but Suguru will insist on staying until he's gotten his money's worth and you've cum on Satoru's fingers more times than you'd care to count. When you're red-faced and teary-eyed, the waiter will ask if you're alright, and Satoru will pull you into his side while Suguru tells him that you've always been a little nervous in public.

You won't make it home before things boil over. Suguru will park somewhere seclusive as Satoru eats you out, knee deep in the backseat. When Suguru joins you, you'll finally get your present - double-penetration, both holes stuffed while they take turns filling your mouth with their tongues. You'll sob and scream and beg them to stop, say that it's too much, that you're already overstimulated, but they'll insist on making sure you get everything they have to give you. They've been looking forward to this all year, after all. It'd be a shame not to let you enjoy such a thoughtful gift to the fullest.

Exhausted and humiliated, you'll fade in and out of consciousness as Satoru carries you upstairs and Suguru runs a bath, shyly admitting that their present might've been a little self-serving. It's only after they get you tucked into bed, Satoru already excitedly telling Suguru all of his many, many plans for a quickly approaching White Day, that you'll fade into the mercy of a dreamless, thoughtless sleep.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.

For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door. 

And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again. 

“That’s it.”

Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room. 

Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for. 

Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you. 

“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.” 

Nothing. 

With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer. 

“Logan.”

Finally, he groaned. “What?” 

His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand. 

“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”

You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over. 

“Too much information.”

You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”

Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts. 

Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside. 

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking. 

However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled. 

He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie. 

By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were. 

But he was asleep. 

Right beside you. 

Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her. 

Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his. 

“Storm- what are you- Oh.”

Jean looked inside. 

“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”

“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”

You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment. 

You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him. 

It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan. 

For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm. 

Serene. 

Rested. 

Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you. 

Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning. 

“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face. 

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Then a cough came from the door. 

Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”

Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”

You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”

Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed. 

“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away. 

“Sure.”

Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed. 

“They’re got a point.”

“About us being a couple?”

You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”

Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more. 

Jean and Storm were right. 

From the picture…they did look like a couple. 

A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring. 

All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands. 

And for you, that meant finally reading. 

Until you sensed someone stood behind you. 

“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”

Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you. 

“Logan! Give it back.”

“I want to see what it’s about.”

You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”

“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”

“Like the romantic kind.”

Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”

You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not. 

“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“I believe in romance.” 

“Yeah, right.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”

Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?”

“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”

You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud. 

“People really talk like this?”

You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”

Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud. 

It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck. 

“Keep reading.”

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Now I’m awake.” 

“Fine, just be quiet.”

You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading. 

And ten minutes later, you were asleep. 

And so was he. 

An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby. 

“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”

“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”

Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him. 

“What is it?” Then she gasped. 

“Believe me now?”

And what Rouge saw made her smile. 

On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire. 

“Come on, let's leave them.”

“But-”

“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”

Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her. 

The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October. 

Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying. 

Save for two. 

Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook. 

“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”

“You should have more faith in him.”

“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”

And she couldn’t. Because she was. 

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg. 

There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help. 

And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies. 

“Bub,”

Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back. 

You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect. 

“Dance with me?”

“What?”

Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards. 

“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”

“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”

Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”

And you both were. 

Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen. 

“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”

“Logan.”

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”

“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”

“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”

“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”

Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest. 

For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…

Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect. 

He dipped you. 

You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh. 

Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin. 

And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen. 

And dipping you. 

When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you. 

Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background. 

“Logan…”

Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say. 

Had his eyes always had so much green in them? 

Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter. 

Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more. 

So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?

Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door. 

A sneeze. 

A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality. 

Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam. 

Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”

Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed. 

Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him. 

“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking. 

“You did ambush me.”

“I didn’t ambush you.”

“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.” 

You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”

Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own. 

“That big of an ambush.”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa. 

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”

You did so. 

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa. 

Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him. 

An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both. 

She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two. 

And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long. 

Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened. 

Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas. 

Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them. 

But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different. 

“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”

Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”

“So?” 

Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe. 

“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”

“Hey, no.”

“Hey, yes.”

“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”

Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”

“Technically, it’s a month.”

“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”

You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”

Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”

“Great from where I’m standing.”

You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking. 

Not at the garland, but at your ass. 

You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down. 

“I meant the garland.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”

You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”

With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”

“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”

“I get to watch you put up five more.”

You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”

Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up. 

You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away. 

Then Logan gave you a real kiss. 

A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”

He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”

“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway. 

It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms. 

And the others had been watching you and Logan all day. 

The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe. 

“Wait, no. Not there.”

“Where then?”

Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”

Storm shook her head. “Here.”

She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt. 

Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree. 

At least this way, those looking for it, would find it. 

"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”

There was no one else apart from Logan.

Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take. 

Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you. 

Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others. 

“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces. 

“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing. 

“That was some kiss.”

You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan. 

He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people. 

“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”

You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip. 

You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”

“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”

You looked back to the others. “Six months.”

A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”

All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile. 

“I knew it!”

[domm1etae]

Right in Front of You

f!reader x roommate yunho

oneshot | mdni

1.2k

Y/N spends Valentine’s night searching for a hookup, only to come home empty-handed—until she realizes the perfect option was sitting in her apartment all along, proving that sometimes, the best things don’t need to be chased—they’re already waiting for you

nsfw tags under

f/m, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, fingering, doggy style, top yunho, bottom reader, roommates, reader is on BC, roommates to fucking?

author's note: since yesterday was February 14th—aka Valentine’s Day—but i didn’t post anything, i decided to drop a little post-Valentine’s treat ;))

Y/N barely managed to keep her balance as she fumbled with the lock, heels dangling from one hand, bag slipping from the other. She was still in last night’s outfit—nothing too scandalous, but enough to scream I was trying to get laid and failed miserably. Her makeup wasn’t ruined per se, but her eyeliner had smudged just enough to give away that she hadn’t just stepped out looking fresh.

The moment she stumbled into the apartment, Yunho’s laughter rang through the living room. He was perched on the couch, long legs stretched out, nursing a mug of coffee like some judgmental prince.

“Well, good morning,” he drawled, a smirk playing at his lips. “What a sight I have right now.”

Y/N groaned, flipping him off without breaking stride as she tossed her shoes near the door.

“Rough night?” Yunho asked, his tone drenched in amusement.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she grumbled, finally collapsing onto the couch next to him. “What about you? What did you do?”

Yunho took a slow sip of his coffee before answering. “Me? Oh, nothing crazy. Made dinner, played some games till like 2 AM, then went to bed.” He tilted his head toward her, eyes twinkling. “What about you? Who was the lucky one who took you home?”

Y/N groaned dramatically, draping an arm over her face. “That’s the thing. You’d think that on Valentine’s Day, the club would be filled with hot singles, right? But no. Just couples everywhere—kissing, slow dancing, rubbing their happiness in my face. Not a single man in sight.”

Yunho hummed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “Huh. Well, I was alone yesterday, you know.”

She peeked at him from under her arm, brows furrowing. “What are you saying, Yunho?”

He turned to her then, closer than before, his gaze no longer teasing but intent. His voice dropped, slow and deliberate.

“If you wanted action,” he murmured, “you didn’t have to go to some stupid club.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Yunho leaned in, close enough for her to catch the faint scent of coffee and whatever stupidly nice cologne he always wore. His arms rested on the couch, caging her in.

Her lips parted slightly, a mix of confusion and anticipation making her pulse spike. “You—what?”

Yunho scoffed, tilting his head at her like she was the dumbest person he’d ever met. “You’re actually so blind, Y/N,” he muttered, voice thick with amusement but something else too—something darker, something hungry. “You had the easiest opportunity to get laid right in front of you this whole time.”

His fingers trailed up her thigh, just barely skimming the fabric of her dress, and Y/N felt her brain short-circuit.

Looping her fingers behind his waistband, she tugged him even closer, their lips a hair’s breadth apart. “If that’s true, then maybe you should do something about it,” she murmured.

Yunho didn’t need to be told twice.

His mouth crashed against hers, hands sliding up to cup her face, thumbs digging in just enough to make her gasp. That was all the opening he needed, tongue slipping past her lips as he pressed his body flush against hers.

Heat coiled low in her stomach as Yunho’s hands abandoned her face in favor of something much more sinful—one slipping under her dress, the other palming her breast as he deepened the kiss, tilting her head just the way he wanted.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, fingers fumbling at his shirt, nails dragging over his abs before slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats.

“Fuck,” Yunho growled against her lips, his breath coming out shaky. “You’re really desperate, huh?”

Y/N had half a mind to be embarrassed, but then Yunho was pushing her dress up around her waist and dragging her panties down her thighs, and any rational thought she had completely dissolved.

He let out a low groan, fingers sliding through her slick folds, teasing her entrance before slipping one inside. Y/N’s breath stuttered, her back arching at the delicious stretch.

“Shh, keep quiet for now,” he murmured, smirking when she let out a sharp gasp. “We’ll see how long you last before you’re screaming my name.”

Y/N was about to snap back at him, but then he added another finger, curling them just right, and her head hit the back of the couch, a strangled moan ripping from her throat.

Yunho chuckled, working his fingers into her at a pace that was just slow enough to be torturous.

“You’re soaking wet,” he mused, voice dripping with satisfaction. “All that time looking for a one-night stand, and you could’ve just asked me.”

Y/N barely managed to glare at him, her fingers digging into his arms as she rocked against his hand, chasing the friction. “Stop talking and do something.”

Yunho raised a brow, then grinned. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

In one swift motion, he withdrew his fingers and flipped her over, pressing her chest against the couch as he yanked her hips up. Y/N gasped, arching into him as he shoved his sweats and boxers down just enough to free himself.

She turned her head slightly, eyes widening as she caught sight of his cock—thick, flushed, and already dripping at the tip.

“Oh, fuck me,” she breathed.

“That’s the plan,” Yunho smirked, dragging the head of his cock through her slick folds before teasing her entrance.

And then he pushed in.

A broken moan ripped from Y/N’s throat as he sank into her, inch by inch, stretching her out in a way that had her thighs trembling.

Yunho let out a shuddering breath, his grip on her hips tightening. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he hissed. “You feel even better than I thought you would.”

Y/N barely had time to process that statement before he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt.

She choked on a gasp, back arching, hands scrambling for purchase against the couch.

“Oh my God—”

“Yeah?” Yunho groaned, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “Go on, baby. Let me hear who’s making you feel this good.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, nails digging into the cushions. “Fuck, Yunho! You!”

He growled at that, fingers tangling in her hair as he yanked her head back slightly. “That’s right,” he murmured against her ear before biting down on her shoulder, setting a pace that had her body rocking against the couch.

Y/N felt like she was burning, pleasure coiling in her stomach as his thrusts grew rougher, more desperate.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” Yunho groaned, his hand sliding around to rub tight circles against her clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

Y/N nodded frantically, barely able to form words. “Y-Yeah, fuck, Yunho—”

Her body tensed, pleasure exploding through her as she came with a cry, trembling beneath him. Yunho followed soon after, spilling deep inside her with a groan, his body slumping against hers.

For a moment, all she could hear was their ragged breathing.

“So... you wanna tell me that all this time I could’ve been getting the best dick ever, and instead I’ve been suffering in silence?”

Yunho chuckled against her skin. “Well, I guess we have time to make up for that.”

[goldenroutledge]

i must be dreaming

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

prompt: ❛ you’re lucky that you’re cute. ❜

a/n: for my wonderful moot @yearneir, thank you so much for the request! i had so much fun writing this <3

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

“Knock, knock!” Two knocks sound through the door of Lando’s hotel room, followed by the familiar cheerfulness of Alma, the hotel’s concierge. “Delivery for Mr. Norris!”

Lando’s muscles ache with a soreness that weighs him down into the softness of the duvet, having sprawled out face first onto the bed the second he got back from another long day of testing. The winter months are always the shortest, often flying by more quickly than the season does.

His mind is tired as well, struggling a bit extra to get back into the swing of things after months away from being in the car. He doesn’t recall ordering any room service but if he did, he’s more out of it than he previously thought.

With a sigh of reluctance, he drags his feet towards the door of the stylish hotel suite. His vision is blurry as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and instinctively checks the time on his phone that reads 8:03pm. Definitely way too early to sleep for the night, but a power nap has never hurt him before.

Sure enough, Alma is waiting on the other side of the door with a bright smile and a silver platter in hand. “Good evening, Mr. Norris. I was instructed to bring this to your room along with this letter.”

He takes a deep breath, as if the surprise delivery will make more sense when he gets some more oxygen flowing to his brain. “Oh, thank you. Who’s it from?”

Alma smiles coyly but won’t reveal too much. “I can’t say, but your answer is in the envelope. Can I get you anything else while I’m here, sir?”

“Just Lando is fine.” He politely corrects. “I’m okay, thank you though.”

“Have a nice evening.” Alma disappears down the hallway, leaving Lando to his letter and mysterious silver platter. He’s seen enough movies to know that there’s usually someone’s head under these. His first name is written neatly on the envelope and what catches his eye is the red heart stamped into the wax seal.

He remembers the date, February 14th, and blushes at the thought of you. The both of you had been corresponding on the phone like usual, of course confirming that you had received the bouquet of flowers, chocolates, and a few pieces from your favorite designer that Lando made sure to have delivered to your home, with a promise that he’d be able to properly wine and dine you in a week’s time. He carefully lifts the seal, a childlike grin spreading across his face at the sight of your neat handwriting.

-

My dearest Lando,

It pains me to be apart from you, but the distance will let our hearts grow fonder. I hope you enjoy the present I’ve prepared for you.

Yours truly,

Y/n.

P.S. Call me when you get this. XOXO.

-

His hopes are high for whatever’s underneath the silver dome, perhaps some comfort food like a classic Roast dinner that reminds him of home, just like his Mum makes.

Lando lifts the silver to find not a warm meal, but cold and slimy rolls of sushi making the shape of a heart, dipping cups of wasabi and soy sauce resting in the center.

“What the hell?!” He yelps, visibly startled by the sight. “She knows I hate this stuff.” He’s scrolling to the favorite contacts in his call log, instinctively clicking your name.

When you answer on the second ring smiling like the Cheshire Cat, Lando knows he’s been set up.

“Is this your way of breaking up with me? Sending a plate of fish to my hotel room on Valentine’s Day?” Your laugh pierces through the phone, and he’s still dumbfounded as to how you managed to pull a prank on him all the way from Monaco. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing, I just wanted you to know that I’m soy into you. Happy Valentine’s Day, babe!”

“Aw, very clever. I hope you know that I’m gonna get you back for this. What fruit was it that you are mildly allergic to again? Starfruit, was it? I’m sending 50 starfruit arrangements to our house as we speak.”

“With all the risks you take at work, I’m amazed that sushi of all things has become your greatest fear. How is that?”

Lando scoffs, “I am not scared of sushi.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Sorry love, the proof is out there. But I wanted you to know that I love you anyway.”

“I love you too.” He grumbles, but there’s no bite behind his words. Lando finally takes a better look at you, but doesn’t recognize the wall in the background. He doesn’t recognize the wall behind you from your house, that is. He looks around his suite, now puzzled as to how your background matches the exact color of the hotel walls. Interesting. “Wait, where are you? You’re not at home are you?”

“I’m in a place that people temporarily call home?” You offer with a mysterious edge to your words and he subtly catches on. You can see the gears turning for him, the realization visible on his face when he moves toward the door once again.

“Wait a second… Are you HERE?! At my hotel?” His incredulous tone translates from the speaker on your phone to reverberating in your ears, behind his hotel room door that you’re standing in front of.

The door swings open and you’re reunited with those sparkling cerulean eyes you know so well. He takes a pause, glancing back and forth between his screen and you, now within arms reach. Wasting time would be a foolish thing to do. Without a care he drops his phone in exchange for cradling your face in his hands before smashing his lips onto yours. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his frame, relishing in how warm he feels against you.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He breathes out, as if his life depends on saying it.

“Surprise! I missed you too, clearly. I’ve been wanting to try my sushi prank for a while now and this gave me the perfect opportunity. Had to get you riled up with something you hate so you’d be extra happy to see me.”

“Not necessary.” Lando murmurs against you, peppering kisses to your lips. “I don’t need anything extra, you know that. It did serve as a nice surprise, though. Definitely better than the sushi.”

You giggle as he shudders at the thought. “Forgive me?”

“You’re forgiven,” Lando sighs, unable to resist your pleading eyes and the warm notes of amber in your perfume that captivate him, “but I hope you know that if anyone else did this to me, and I mean anyone else on this planet, I would not speak a word to them for the rest of my life. However, for you, I can make an exception. You’re lucky that you’re cute.”

You kiss him sweetly, holding hints of satisfaction behind your smile at how well your plan has been executed. “Don’t worry, I plan to make it up to you. It is Valentine’s Day, after all.”

“Just when I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, how did I get so lucky?”

You pinch his cheek teasingly. “You do look exhausted still, are you sure you’re not dreaming of me?”

Lando catches your wrist and presses a kiss to the skin, content with knowing that he’ll dream of you tonight and wake up beside you tomorrow. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

💌: thanks for reading, comments & reblogs are always appreciated!

psst… my requests are open :) be my valentine blurb event 💌

taglist: @marjorieswrld (add yourself here!)

[hihomeghere]

Insomniac

Word Count : 1.8k Summary : Five has trouble sleeping and when he does sleep it's anything but peaceful. After a nightmare he craves your touch to remind him you're okay. Warnings/Tags : Talk of nightmares, insomnia, smut, piv, cursing, allusions to violence, use of y/n, Aged up!Five

Happy Valentine’s Day <3

Whether or not Five wanted to admit it he was an insomniac. Blame it on his heightened survival instincts from the apocalypse, or the commission. Whenever it was time to relax and go to sleep, Five felt more wired than ever. Which led to you normally finding him in the strangest positions when he finally crashed. Whether that be hunched over the kitchen table, cold coffee in a mug next to him. Sometimes you’d find him slouched in a chair, a blanket draped over him by one of his brothers. Your favorite was when you’d be watching a movie together, his eyes slowly closing, he’d mumble something along the lines of, ‘just resting his eyes for a second’ before he’d be snoring on your shoulder. A sure sign that he was still an old man in a young man’s body.

It’s not like he didn’t try to sleep. Every night you’d both climb into bed, you’d lay your head on his chest, the soft beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. He’d lay awake, his mind constantly churning. He’d gotten so desperate at one point he’d tried to follow the meditation video Klaus had lent him. Although listening to some lady stoned out of her mind telling him to breathe deep only agitated him further.

On the nights where Five did fall asleep it was anything but peaceful.

Five screamed, waking you up as you all but jumped out of your skin. Five sat up in bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing erratic. You sat up, the sheet pooling around your waist.

“Five?” You whispered your hand lightly grazing his back. He jumped, turning to you like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back in a snarl, wide eyes glaring at you. “Hey,” You pulled back watching the gears turn behind his eyes, guilt washing over him as he realized you weren’t a threat. “Hey it’s ok, you’re ok.” He leaned forward resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him. His heart was beating like a small animal against your chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his head resting in the crook of your neck. Hot tears wetting your collarbone.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” You soothed, your hand traveling up to his head. You ran your fingers through hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He let out a shuddering breath, loosening his grip around your waist. “Do you want some tea?” You asked, you had been trying to help him kick his coffee addiction.

“Coffee.” He mumbled, sighing into your neck.

“Ok, let’s get some coffee.” You said peeling the sheets off the two of you. He sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. You grabbed your robe off the floor, wrapping it around your body. Five stood by your bedroom door, bleary eyed. You took his hand leading him down the stairs to the kitchen. You looked at the clock as you passed the oven, 2:35. You internally sighed slipping your hand out of Five’s grasp. He pulled out a chair, grimacing as it scraped across the tile floor. You walked over to your new Keurig, Five’s birthday present. You popped one of the pods in before shutting the lid. You walked over to the kitchen cupboards, pulling out a mug and setting it in the Keurig. The smell of coffee filled the air as Five got up from his seat. He walked up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. His arms wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck. You had both been trying to be more open about your pasts. Which meant having these uncomfortable conversations.

“Just-” He sighed, “Just stay with me for a minute, dearest.” You nodded slightly swaying as you both stood in the kitchen. Five loosened his grip around your waist, reaching past you to pick up his coffee cup. You leaned against the counter, pulling your robe closer around your body. He held the mug in one of his hands, leaning his head back against the cupboard cabinet. He let out a sigh before taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re staring.” He mused, turning to look at you.

“I’m just-” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders, “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” He said with a tight lipped smile. You raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms.

“I know you better than that.” You said a small smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.

“Then you know what it was about.” He huffed, bringing the mug to his lips.

“A or c?” You asked, looking down at your feet. You had invented a code between the two of you, A for apocalypse and C for commission. While you couldn’t relate to being stuck in a post apocalyptic world, you were all too familiar with the inner workings of the commission. The killings you both carried out plagued your dreams as well. Your hands had been stained long ago.

“C.” He answered. The commission. Well that narrowed it down.

“Real or not real?” He hesitated, sneaking a glimpse toward you before raising his gaze toward the ceiling.

“Not real.” He said before clearing his throat. You walked over to him, laying your hands on his cheek. He avoided your gaze keeping his eyes lo

“Was it about me?” You asked, pushing his head slightly with your hand to get him to look at you.

“Yeah.” He said clenching his jaw, his eyes darted away from yours. You waited for a moment, to see if he would say anything more.

“I’m right here.” You whispered after a moment had passed, “I’m right here and I’m ok.”

“I know,” He leaned forward his lips finding your neck, he breathed in your sweet scent. The tiniest hint of sweat from the night. His hands found your hips, pulling you against him.

“I need you.” He breathed against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses.

“You have me.” You sighed, leaning your head back offering him your neck.

The world spun and the temperature dropped as Five blinked you both back to your room. It took a second to get your bearings before your knees hit the bed. You allowed Five to lay you down, his long fingers curling under the waistband of your pajama pants. He pulled them off, while you pulled your shirt over your head.

“So gorgeous.” He murmured, kissing up your stomach. You sighed contently, melting under his touch. He pulled away briefly, pulling his shirt off and stepped out of his pajama bottoms. Leaving both of you in your underwear. He lifted your hips up off the bed, his fingers curling into the waistband on your panties as he pulled them off. Your body buzzed with anticipation as you watched him take off his boxers. He climbed forward onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You grabbed the back of his neck pulling him forward into a kiss as the head of his cock found your entrance. Tasting the bitter coffee on his tongue as slipped inside with the familiar ease of a lover. You gasped into his mouth, feeling every inch of him as he pressed inside you.

“There you are.” He sighed against your lips, his own curling into an easy smile.

“Five-“ You moaned, gripping his shoulders as he slowly started thrusting inside you. He never left your cunt, hips rolling against yours. Your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close as possible. Your moans and the sweet sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air. You looked up at Five, his eyes bore into yours. You felt a bit shy under his gaze, your eyes darting away.

He stilled, laying his forearms beside your head as leant over you. He covered your body with his own, his hand turning your head so you would look at him.

“Let me see you.” He said softly, nosing against your cheek.

It was moments like this that made you feel like a normal person. Moments when it was just the two of you in the world, two becoming one. He reached down, grabbing your thigh, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. “You feel so good.” He mumbled, pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. He was taking his time with you tonight, that much was clear.

Your heels dug into his butt, trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a small laugh, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. He slowed, his hips creating a low drag into your cunt with every thrust. His pubic hair rubbing against your clit in a delicious way that had you clenching around him. A low whine pulling its way out of your throat, as he propped himself up.

“You like that doll?” He whispered, his cock rubbed at your walls in deliberate strokes.

“Mmhm.” You nodded tears springing to your eyes as you bit your lip. Your body craved more, more stimulation, more Five. “Please.” You whined, your hands digging into his shoulders, leaving small crescent shapes in their wake.

“Please what?” He asked tilting his head as he leaned down, nipping and sucking at your neck.

“More, I need more please.” You said bucking your hips up to gain and friction.

“As you wish.” He said, his breath fanning across your neck as he snapped his hips into yours. You moaned, your eyes rolling back into your head as he set an excruciating pace. He sat back on his heels, pulling you down the bed with him. He slammed into you, leaving you a moaning mess under him. You grabbed his thighs, nails dragging down his pale legs. Your body buzzed as you neared your high, breasts bouncing as he drove into again and again.

He watched you, picking up subtle signs your orgasm was approaching. Your toes curled as he reached between your bodies, rubbing deliberate circles on your clit.

That was enough to send you over the edge, you spasmed around him, your nails digging into his thighs as you cried out. Tears slipping down your cheeks.

“That’s it.” He smirked, breathing hard. He was getting sloppy as he neared his peak. You continued to ride out your orgasm as his came crashing down.

“F-Fuck.” He groaned spilling into you, his hips stuttering as he painted your insides. He lowered his body onto yours, laying his head in the crook of your neck as he interlaced his fingers with yours. You both breathed hard, letting your heart rate come down.

“How do you feel now?” You asked breathlessly, squeezing his hands.

“Much better.” He nodded, kissing your neck. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You said pulling your hands away to wrap them around his sweaty body.

Needless to say, Five slept through the night

[dollyfetti]

　𐔌　you love me? ₊˚ ♡

︵︵　notes: bimbo!reader x nerd!bakugou, , valentines drabble, slightly suggestive (reader mentions lingerie), fluffy, katsuki is a little insecure, most of this is unedited, ALSO just bc he goes to the gym doesnt make him a macho man he is still a little dweeb!!!!!!!! ︵︵　word count: 1.4k

you lie sprawled across your pink, plushie-filled bed, while your boyfriend sits at the foot, tying his shoelaces with unhurried precision. mindlessly, your hand strokes your purring kitten as you gaze up at the ceiling, your legs swinging lazily back and forth. “i mean, i would work out, because it's like healthy and whatever,” you say, turning your head to watch as katsuki stands up to grab his headphones from your desk. “but like... it’s just so gross! you get all sweaty, and you have to like... lift super heavy weights.”

"that reminds me," katsuki grumbles to himself, grabbing his key and shoving it into his pocket. "i needa put together that bike fa you."

you hum in confusion, sitting up and pulling princess onto your lap. the tiny kitten meows softly before scampering over to the edge of the bed where katsuki stands. “i dunno how to ride a bike,” you huff, watching as katsuki’s large hand gently rests on the kitten’s back.

he grins lightly, lifting princess into his arms. “it’s a stationary bike, baby. all ya haveta do is sit on it and move your legs.” he scratches princess behind the ears before gently setting her back down and walking toward you.

rising to your knees, you reach for his face, pulling him down for a brief goodbye kiss. he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip before pulling away, playfully squishing your cheeks in his hand. you grin and flop back down onto the bed. “and people say smart people can’t be hot,” you tease, dramatically flinging your hand for emphasis.

"ya, ya, whatever." he tsks in faux annoyance, though he really is a whore for your dumb comments. "don't do anythin stupid while m gone. got it?" he points toward your figure before marching to the door.

you glance up at him upside down, your expression soft and hazy. “yes, sir!” you chirp with a salute, but your acrylics accidentally scratch your forehead, making you shriek.

katsuki grins and shakes his head, stepping out the door, swinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

as soon as the door thuds shut, you're up on your toes, startling your cat in a flurry of excitement. it's valentine's day, and of course, bakugou didn't remember. or maybe he did, and just didn't think it was important. well, you do. you love the cheesy movies and dorky affection that come with the holiday. and you were gonna give your boyfriend the best valentine's ever!!

as his first girlfriend— and hopefully his last— you’re determined to make this day unforgettable. you rush to your closet, pulling out a box of decorations you’ve carefully chosen. dropping to your knees, you pull out heart-shaped streamers and fake rose petals, your face lighting up as you shout at alexa to play a romantic playlist. by the time you’ve hung everything and scattered the last petal into place, you suddenly remember the candle you lit earlier to set the mood. gasping, you blow it out and look around, wondering if the sweet scent is really that essential. yeah..! no biggie.

“okay…” you whisper to yourself, surveying the transformed apartment. glitter and flowers fill every corner. you had also bought a seductive red lingerie set, but when should you wear it? well, you should put it on now, but you don’t want to ruin the ambiance with your impatience. and all your hard work would get ruined! maybe after taking some pictures...

as you stand there, trying to use your brain for once, the sound of a key turning in the door lock startles you. you spin around, wide-eyed. you weren't expecting him back until later!

"I'M NOT READY!" you shout, peering down at your messy appearance. but bakugou's already inside, his eyes widening at the unexpected apartment makeover.

he freezes for a moment, his bag hitting the floor with a soft thump. his fingers run through his sweaty hair as he takes in your eager, pouty face. you shuffle toward him, wringing your hands nervously. “you weren’t supposed to see it yet…!”

he chuckles, pushing up his glasses before kissing your head, still taking in the sight around him. "i text you earlier when you were at the store sayin i was only gonna be an hour. you didn' see?"

you look up, pausing to recall... nope, nothin!

"ohh." you hum. you rub your lips together before spreading your arms out wide. "well, happy valentine's day!!"

katsuki's almost- awkward? he nods, tapping his fingers against his leg. it's like he's unsure of how to respond. he exhales, quickly swooping in to peck your cheek before heading into the kitchen.

you blink at the spot where he was just standing, confusion flooding your chest. what's wrong with him??? you spin around slowly, watching him pull a glass out of the cupboard. you tiptoe after him, cautious as if he'll run away if you move too fast. "do you... not like it?" you ask softly, your eyebrows bent in uncertainty.

without turning around, he pours himself a glass of water. “uh, yeah, i do,” he mutters, taking a sip while his crimson eyes remain fixed on the floor. the silence stretches between you, heavy and awkward. it’s the complete opposite of the atmosphere you were hoping for. a lump forms in your throat, and you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for something, anything, to break the tension.

his gaze lifts, catching your troubled expression. with a grunt, he places his glass down and strides toward you. his hands find your cheeks, rough yet gentle as he holds your face in his palms, humming quietly at the softness of your skin.

"i do like it." he mutters, swiping a tear that had just fallen from your eye. "s nice."

your pout deepens, dropping your head onto his chest. "did it cuz i love you and i thought you'd be more excited..."

all of the air in katsuki's body suddenly leaves him.

his heart patters against his chest, louder than it ever has before. time slows down as the words you said too casually hang in the air between you. in your head, it's obvious you both love each other. you've been together for over a year, and you make it known every day how much you adore katsuki bakugou. but for some reason, you've never said it until today. maybe it's because you're trying to make him feel better or maybe you're just an idiot who doesn't understand the weight of what you just uttered.

love. does he love you? probably. is he smart enough to actually form the words, look into your eyes, and offer a piece of himself in return? maybe. or maybe not. katsuki bakugou deems himself as the smartest. but in this moment, with your body against his, for the first time in forever, he feels dumb.

hesitantly, he pulls back, meeting your teary gaze with his own. his breath catches, and his lips suddenly yearn for yours. his breath hitches in his throat. “you… love me?” he blurts out, his voice tinged with disbelief.

you blink, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “…yeah?” you smile, as if it’s obvious— because it is.

"oh." katsuki breathes out with a nod, his face flushing slightly. "that's cool." he mutters, yknow, like a moron.

but you already know. you don't need to hear it from him. why would you? he shows you every day too. in little ways, like how he knows exactly how to make your coffee or how he melts into you whenever he's overwhelmed. you're not too smart, "not the sharpest lightbulb in the shed", as you say. but you're not blind. you silently hear, "i love you. i need you." from katsuki in every moment you spend together. and that's enough.

you nod with a dorky grin spreading across your lips. "ya." you giggle, watching him visibly relax. you hum, leaning closer to the man to inhale his scent. "i was gonna put on a little show for you when you got home..."

katsuki smirks, raising a brow. "well, go on then. don't keep me waiting long." his hand reaches for the back of your head, pulling your forehead against his lips, leaving a loud smooch against the skin. you smile toothily, skipping into the bedroom.

the blond sighs dreamily, looking around the apartment. maybe it's about time you two move in together.

♡ ‿‿🍭 taglist @coldember

[minus-plus-zer0]

Valentine's Day Special - First Chocolates

“Um… Happy Valentine’s Day, Bakugou!”

Bakugou gawked at you like you had grown two heads. There you were, in his bedroom, hands outstretched to offer him your best homemade chocolates. You knew nobody ever bothered to give Bakugou chocolates before, so you didn’t know what to expect next despite knowing the boy better than anyone. 

From his seat at his desk, Bakugou took the cute pink box from your hands and gingerly opened it, popping a chocolate into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 

“Well?” you asked. “Do you like it?”

“‘Course I do,” he spat. “But… why’re you giving me these?”

You tilted your head quizzically. “…Because we’re best friends?”

Bakugou paused, scrutinizing your answer.

“You give any of your other ‘best friends’ delicious chocolates?” Bakugou asked, sneering at the thought. 

“I did give some to Kirishima, Todoroki, and Midoriya…” Bakugou’s face darkened with every name you listed. “But I made yours extra special! Because we’re so close!”

Bakugou’s face slowly broke into a wide grin. “S’that so? Sounds about right! Next year, you don’t gotta give those guys chocolates. Just give ‘em all to me.”

Bakugou spent the rest of the day eating your chocolates in front of all his lonely and single friends whenever they came to bother him. He also paraded you around Kirishima, Todoroki, and Midoriya in particular, often walking up to these boys and smacking his lips as he chewed through your super special chocolate to make his intentions quite clear. 

Of course, the Bakusquad swarmed Bakugou in the dorms and asked him one very important question that even Bakugou was still wondering about. 

“Are they friendship chocolates?” Ashido asked. “Or romance chocolates?”

“What, it ain’t obvious?” Bakugou replied, having no clue himself. “Such a dumb question.”

Bakugou looked away with a huff, but he could never give the Bakusquad a straight answer. Whenever they interrogated you for details, Bakugou not-so-discreetly glanced over his shoulder to check your response. 

You merely replied, “It’s a secret.”

This frustrated the Bakusquad (and Bakugou) to no end, but you weren’t quite yet ready to tell your true feelings to anyone, at least not in public. It wasn’t until much later that same day when Bakugou caught you for some alone time in your bedroom that he brought up the question again. 

“Hey…” Bakugou said, sitting alongside you on your bed with a concerned expression. “Next month, I’m gonna totally outdo the gift you just gave me. But don’t go taking gifts from other guys. I’m not gonna give anything to other people either. Remember, it’s just gotta be our thing, ya know?”

You hid your face a little in your hands to cover your embarrassment from his sweet statement. “Oh, okay! Anything for my best friend!”

“Good.” Bakugou steeled himself to say his next piece. “That means we’re officially exclusive from now on. And the only gifts we’re gonna give each other are gonna be special, right?”

He was genuinely wondering about your answer judging by the bit of desperation behind his words. He was so cute sometimes. You needed to tell him the truth.

You beamed at him playfully. “Well of course! I can’t just give everyone romance chocolates, now can I?”

Bakugou appeared surprised for a second before breaking out into a satisfied and proud grin.

“‘Course not,” Bakugou said, his heart pounding as he leaned over to eagerly kiss you.

(I still exist! I have just been busy with real life and I am sick. Thankfully I was able to get this post out in time!)

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | VALENTINE'S EVENT !

tags : established relationship, light kisses, hurt/comfort, angst with fluff, reader has a bad day, kinda slight references to 'hidden motive', it's like if the "youtiful" series had no smut LMAO, use of pet names "love" "sweetheart". ((also... unedited... i finished this at like 2:30am... AHFNNSNF))

wc : 3k (haha......)

an : so i have. been on a bit of writer's block since i recovered from my sick week, but i did somehow get the urge to write something a little angsty… so this was actually the perfect request to work on and i had sm fun with this!! TYTYYY FOR REQUESTING @deepspacenova ILY <333 (also i know canonically valentine's day is azure's echo day but… for consistency we'll stick with valentine's :D)

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

ko-fi jar / commissions

Valentine's Day wasn't supposed to go like this.

When you woke up, the space beside you was empty.

The curtains were drawn, and the room had been left relatively dark despite the little rays of sunshine peeking through. Comforting, in a sense, but—your hand reached out to run through the sheets beside you, now cold and devoid of the warmth of his presence. He'd left it like this on purpose; you knew that.

And it was quiet without him.

The kind of quiet that was loud, the kind of quiet that was uncomfortable.

Your eyes drifted towards the clock on the nightstand, and your heart sank at the realization—you'd slept in, and completely missed seeing him off. On Valentine's Day.

You'd both known from the start that he wouldn't be getting a day off despite the occasion, and you'd accepted it, but you had promised yourself to be present for him in the morning. What kind of girlfriend would let him leave just like that, right?

There was a note on the stand.

You reached out to grab it, and something about the emptiness in the bedroom made you feel so small. Even though you'd always been fond of the neutral colors surrounding you, they looked drearier and gloomier than they'd ever been. Your arms twitched with the urge to reach out for a hug—

There was no one there.

Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well? I noticed you've been very tired lately, so please get some rest. Don't feel too bad that you didn't see me this morning. I'll be home in time for dinner, let me know when you wake up.

It was so sweet. So Zayne. Yet the heaviness in your heart didn't seem to lighten in the least, because the circumstances didn't change:

It was Valentine's Day. And you were spending it all alone.

In retrospect, you could never place the blame on your boyfriend. It had been this way from the start; you'd talked about it, accepted it, that with all of this came his busy schedules and the ever-present possibility that he would miss days like this without having much of a choice himself. You, yourself, weren't exempt to the setup, anyway—normally, your own work hours would have you out of the house in a similar manner. It was only that, this time… the mere prospect of having to spend a majority of the day alone with your thoughts had your skin crawling.

It had to be today.

It had to be now.

You could beg for a new work assignment to come in and save you from drowning, but you had been ordered to take a rest.

…Was this resting?

The air was stifling. You could breathe, but only barely.

You felt nailed to the bed, your head heavy, your body heavy, the tension in your shoulders nearly having you want to cry out if only you could muster a sound.

It had to be today.

It had to be now.

On Valentine's Day, the day of love. You would feel so pathetic, and needy, and so desperate to feel him next to you when you knew that it could not be so and you understood that this was simply the way things were. How they always have been. And it took every ounce of your energy to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill, because what kind of girlfriend would be like this, and why couldn't today be a day you felt normal?

You had to hastily wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, and your hands reached for the phone next.

A simple good morning, a little how-are-you.

You would make yourself be normal today if you could help it.

So you did the only thing you could think of:

You redirected.

Pushing yourself out of bed was a task difficult enough to do, but you grit your teeth through it. Feet touched upon the soft carpet, footsteps padding across the room and towards the door. If you had the majority of the day to yourself, you could do something productive, couldn't you? You could still do that, couldn't you? You could still be the simplest, simplest form of a functioning human being… couldn't you?

A mantra repeated in your head as you made your way to the kitchen.

A list of things: you could clean, you could organize, you could read, you could play… You could cook something, maybe even bake, just so he could have some sort of surprise waiting when he got back.

It sounded like a good plan.

…

It was a difficult plan.

Deep breaths weren't enough to calm you down. Sure, every movement pulled you out of the rubble of your thoughts for a moment, allowed you to continue being for a moment. But a moment was merely a moment. And once that moment was over, then it was over. The wreckage dangling above your head would come crashing.

It was a terrifying, terrifying thing to be alone.

Every so often your eyes would drift towards your phone in hopes for a text; even a simple update, anything, anything—

You liked the quiet, but you liked it when he was around.

You liked the slowness of things, but you liked it when he was around.

On days like these, then only when all this empty space could be filled by the warmth of his presence… that was when everything else could be bearable.

And you stirred the cookie batter absentmindedly, only barely paying attention to what you were doing, when—

Ding!

Your heart jumped.

Immediately, you dropped the spatula back into bowl and turned towards your phone.

—heeeeyyyy, happy valentine's, bestieee!!! —hope you get to have a sweeeett, sweet time with your boyfie!

Ah.

Your racing heartbeat calmed down in slight disappointment; the last conversation you'd had with Zayne had been an hour ago, and you knew realistically enough not to expect another message so soon.

And, sure, you were disappointed, but… to Tara's defense, these texts still made you smile.

She sent a flurry more of messages; silly things, cute things, just a couple of somethings to leave in your chat log. You didn't know if she'd picked up on your own behavior being off at work, but you supposed that if Jenna had, then it was more likely that Tara hadn't overlooked it, either.

A thought rang suddenly in your mind, because you could spend the rest of your day with her. A glance at the time told you that it was only half past two in the afternoon, and you still had a couple of hours left before Zayne would be on his way home. If you were looking for a distraction, perhaps, a day out could have solved it, but—

Realization dawned.

You'd have to put on something pretty, spend a couple of minutes doing makeup. You'd have to speak with people, interact with them, seem normal to them… and then maybe, then, you'd be more conscious of the fact that you were blatantly masking in front of people you held close to your heart.

Vulnerability was a fickle thing.

Though you could desperately want to be so, it was difficult to know where to begin.

It was something to accept—you didn't have the energy to… be.

Not today.

Maybe Zayne was right; you did need to rest.

And the realization furthered in that really, truly, all that you wanted was to spend a moment curled up in his lap, maybe watch a movie, maybe sit in silence… Just enough to recharge, just enough to feel safe enough to be.

You wouldn't have had to think of anything else.

But, he wasn't… Here.

He wasn't here.

Hours passed by in a similar manner, then. A cycle of distracting yourself, and failing, and trying again, and failing… You had gotten a few things done, in your defense. The kitchen and the bedroom had both been cleaned spotless. Your newly-baked batch of chocolate-chip cookies sat to cool on the counter, a treat for your boyfriend, something to remind you of what day it was today. You were proud of yourself for it, of course; despite everything, you could still do a little something.

But the feeling in your chest, the heaviness of it, the burden you bore that you couldn't quite place, yourself… it was still there. Unmistakably, still there.

And then it was late.

Later than you knew his shift to be.

You glanced at your phone once, twice—thrice, and a few times more.

The message you'd sent had received no reply.

It must have been an emergency.

You understood; really, you understood. It was like this. He had no access to his phone when things were busy, and especially not when something had come up. You knew this. You knew.

And so you grabbed a blanket from the bedroom to drape over yourself, as you curled up on the couch.

You could wait.

You could.

You could.

…You could, right?

Surfing through channels proved easy enough.

Not that one.

Not that one.

No, not that one, either.

You huffed as each channel played a show that didn't particularly interest you, the sound of their dialogue merely causing you to be irritated rather than successfully distracted. You had little to no choice but to passively play on a show, lower the volume—and at this point, truly… it was difficult to take.

You curled up, drew your knees up to your chest.

The blanket smelled like him.

You could recall how often it had been like this; it had been busy at the hospital, as much as it had been busy at work… The two of you had barely any time to spend with each other these past few days, and undeniably it had started to take a toll on you.

Because it had to line up with the way that you'd been feeling.

Useless. Worthless. A little bit less like yourself.

Thoughts like these were easy to ignore when you had the capacity to, but you didn't anymore. Once again, the space around you was too big; too heavy; too much. It cemented on you all these feelings of helplessness, the way you were left in the middle of this cold, empty space with nothing to offer solace. It was pathetic to feel this way, you thought, but you no longer had the ability to rationalize it.

You didn't like it here without him.

You missed him—a feeling that had built up all these days spent away from each other.

And then the tears started to fall.

Silent tears, an occasional sniffle here and there… Your eyes glazed over as you continued to hug your knees to your chest, head resting upon them. You weren't focusing. The television remained what it was—white noise. You could barely remember what channel you had left it on in the first place.

Your phone lit up a couple of times.

You no longer noticed it.

—

A light shaking could be felt over your body.

It was a colder touch, you could feel it through even the blanket. Your eyes stirred open. Yet, truly, even before your gaze could focus enough on the figure next to you, you knew this touch.

Zayne.

He had his hand on your arm, having nudged you awake, and you could see the faint outline of a bouquet of flowers seated right next to him. Your favorites, no less.

In front of you, the television had been turned off, and a quick glance at your phone to the side showed several missed calls and texts from him. The time flashed as eight in the evening. You had fallen asleep. Your eyes were likely puffy, and you probably looked exhausted…

Yet, these things, despite how much you had noticed and despite how much you were still thinking—

They didn't matter anymore.

The moment of silence between you two, the way he didn't ask, the way he waited, the way he watched… A wave of understanding passed over the both of you before he pulled you into his arms, and that was it.

This was home.

It wasn't dark, and gloomy, and empty, and cold—

It was warm. Comforting. Full of his presence, just the way you had been longing it to be since you'd woken up. The smell of his cologne was one familiar enough to make you tighten your hold on him, make you snuggle deeper into his chest. It was secure. It was safe.

You'd missed him, truly.

And there was no need for words, not really. Instead, he stroked your hair, patiently, lovingly. A gentle kiss to the top of your head. A little reassuring squeeze of your hand.

"Zayne…"

"Mn. I'm here."

Another moment of stillness.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

You could still hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, but this time, it didn't bother you. Not when you could just as well hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, not when his quiet words of reassurance could resound in your head like a lullaby.

And a stray tear fell.

Maybe, it was the relief of it. Maybe, it was how everything had bubbled up to crash into you like this.

But—

You lips trembled, and you cried.

You cried, and cried, and cried.

And it was such a stupid way to spend the day of love.

"You're… You're home, hic, I-I'm sorry, I didn't— hic— I fell asleep, a-and then—"

"Shh. It's okay, my love."

His voice was low. Soft.

"B-but I was… It's Valentine's Day, I should've…!"

"No, you do not owe me anything. On the contrary, I, too, have not been a satisfactory partner… I apologize, sweetheart. I wish I could have spent the day with you."

"It's… It's not your fault…"

"Then, it is not your fault, either."

He paused.

"You… feel unwell. You've been unwell. Haven't you? Aren't you?"

Slowly, gently, he coaxed your head up to look at him. His thumb raised, moving to wipe away your tears; to draw you closer by your chin and place a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose.

You sniffled slightly. "I… I didn't want to be needy… I know it's been busy at the hospital, and I thought I could manage, a-and I'm sorry, I know I should be more understanding! I-I should be better, be good, be someone who can give you the world like you deserve, be— something more worth of the comfort you give me, than this…"

The words flowed out before you could stop them, and, in the end, you appreciated that you could be vulnerable with him. But it still tore at your heart to have him listen. Because what if it was silly? What if it was stupid? In the back of your mind, even though you thought these things, you were hoping for him to tell you otherwise. And what would you do if he didn't? If he agreed with you? What if these words, these insecurities, would make him think less of you, or find it irritating, or…

You were spiraling.

You could see yourself drowning, reflected in the very window of his gaze.

But he gripped your shoulders—he wouldn't let you.

"I never asked for you to give me the world."

It was firm this time, and not necessarily gentle... Yet, the look in his eyes told you everything even before he spoke.

Slow, careful words, and his eyes never strayed from yours:

"All I've ever wanted was you."

Your breath hitched.

You waited, quiet, a little stunned; watched as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss. One to your forehead, one on your eyelids. Your cheek, the corner of your lips—

"I ask nothing of you, if only to know that you are okay. If only to know that you understand… that I will cherish you, and care for you, for as long as you are alive. Do you remember that?"

A memory stirred.

I should think about… how to live my life to the fullest. Because in this world, there's someone who'll like me for as long as I'm alive…

Those were your words.

A wave of warmth washed over you once more as he brought back memories from that day, one that, likely, was one that he thought of often himself.

"The moon…" he mumbled. Gently, he nudged your head sideways to allow you to glance out the window. He'd drawn the curtains back, and the night sky showed itself in full view to you. "Is beautiful tonight. Just as you are. Less than you are. Because you always shine brighter. And, to me… That is all of the world that I need."

"Zayne…"

"I bought you flowers, and I saw the cookies that you left on the table. However… how much you mean to me is not meant to be celebrated for simply one day of the year, and I don't plan to do that. I would celebrate it every day, every minute, every hour of my life. Besides… no matter how hectic things get, I will always want to see you."

This time, he pulled you back to him, gently easing his lips onto yours. A quick kiss, but a meaningful one. One that made the world disappear, your troubles disappear… at least, enough for you to focus on him, and all the love that he offered— to you.

"…Zayne?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

You snuggled into his chest, curling into his warmth.

It felt lighter, now. Perhaps, not to be completely freed from the chains you had put on yourself, but… it felt lighter. More bearable. No longer suffocating.

No longer difficult.

"I love you," you repeated. You would whisper the words, quiet as you focused on his heartbeat. "I love you, twice… thrice… and more times… Because saying it once wouldn't be enough."

"And I love you, sweetheart." Once more, he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. "Twice, and thrice, and more. And, for tonight… We can do whatever you want. My time is all yours."

And perhaps, you thought, he was your world just as much as you were his.

taglist: @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @daturasflower @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @oharasmommymilkers00 @pikachuzhc @fackeraccount @rafayelsgf @iloveboysinred @rafslvr @spotted-salamander @venussakura @love-and-deepstrays @evilgojo @keioxo @Zaynes-jasmine @~Air_Heart~ @keymeadoww @rowazuhime15 @strwbrychffoncke

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[moon-ttokki-x]

♡ ‧₊ ot8!𝗌𝗄𝗓 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌' 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 ‧₊ .ᐟ

pairing: ot8!skz x reader imagines

summary: just a snippet of what i think skz would do for you on valentines' day

genre: pretty cute and sappy, lots of fluff, slight crack, mentions of eating

a/n: yet another year of having no valentine, but at least i can buy chocolate half off

Chan who surprises you and shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers and an outstretched hand. He's in a dark fitted suit, handsome as always, and there's a big smile on his face as he runs off the cheesiest pick up lines, handing you a singular rose as he does. He waits in your living room while you get ready and then offers his arm as you both walk to his car. He takes you to a classic night out, a candlelit dinner in some city restaurant, the lights low and ambient music swirling around your heads. Hushed giggles and feeding each other bites of food are done over intertwined hands.

"You look beautiful under the lights, baby. Here, eat some more..."

♡

Minho who pretends to forget what day it is and leaves you feeling a little downcast. That is, until you're in your office working and the cats walk in, each holding a rose of a different colour; one red, one pink, and one white. He appears at the door with a smirk on his face and strokes your hair as you whine about him pretending to forget. The roses are clutched tightly in your hands as he leads you to the kitchen, where there's a small arrangement of gifts. He isn't one for grand gestures but you're satisfied and cosy, sitting in his lap as you open little trinkets, the cats watching on.

"You're so cute when you whine. You really thought I forgot, huh?"

♡

Changbin who is also a hopeless romantic, who is endlessly in love with you, who shows up to your workplace with a hand full of heart-shaped helium balloons and a big grin on his face. He loudly declared his love for you in front of your coworkers, completely unashamed, and watches with a massive, cute smile on his face as you turn the colour of the balloons he's holding. But the gigantic, warm, though slightly crushing hug he gives you is warmer than your cheeks.

"Happy Valentines Day, bunny! Here- Ah, your face has gone so red..."

♡

Hyunjin who told you to show up at his apartment at exactly six o clock dressed in something classy but comfortable. He blindfolds you as soon as he opens the door and leads you to his living room, where he's set up two canvases opposite each other. There's a platter full of finger food, two glasses and a bottle of some fancy drink he took from the company. He's hung fairy lights around the room and he watches affectionately as you show him your slightly messy impression of the love of your life. His is much better, but he kisses you anyway and says he'll hang it in his room above the bed.

"You're so talented, my love. I'm going to hang it up right away..."

♡

Jisung who pretty much kidnaps you as soon as your shift at work ends, telling you to dress in one of his hoodies. When you come out of his room, he's set up a massive mess of pillows, cushions, and fluffy blankets in front of the TV, which is set up to play a game. He hands you a controller and tells you he's ordered so much food. You know he's done it so you can both spend time together without it ending in the kitchen burning down, but it's appreciated nonetheless. He lets you beat him every time and watches you sit up in victory and cheer at his defeat, your fingers covered in cheesy french fry salt.

"Aww, jagi, you keep beating me. When did you get so good at this?"

♡

Felix who, when you come home, surprises you by setting up a few things in the kitchen so you can both bake and make a few things together. He sets up bowls of chocolate and lets you add the food colouring, turning each bowl pink and red. You both dip strawberries and candied orange slices into the bowls, dripping chocolate over the counter before laying them on a tray to set. You mix the rest of the chocolate together and pour them into heart-shaped molds, marbling the colours together with fingertips stained pink.

"Sunflower, we made such a mess! At least the counter isn't stained pink..."

♡

Seungmin who takes you shopping to the cutest little pop up store, telling you to dress in pink, cream, and white. He meets you at your door and holds your hand as he drives you both there, letting you browse excitedly amongst the shelves for mini figures and plushies. You both come home loaded with a ton of accessories, cuddly toys, and matching items. He then sets up pink lights around your bathroom mirror and takes a whole album's worth of selfies with you.

"I like these necklaces... come on, let's be matching. It'd be cute..."

♡

Jeongin who takes you to the arcade and doesn't even try to let you win. It turns into a competition of who can do the best and he keeps kissing you while you're playing the games so you lose your focus. He teases you each time and promises to let you win the next time. He doesn't, and it's all in good fun until you whine about him being too competitive. He just kisses you again and makes it up to you by taking you for a night-time joyride before stopping at a petrol station, where you both buy convenience store snacks and lie on his car roof, talking about everything.

"Look at all the pretty stars up there. I think you shine way brighter..."

a/n: happy valentines' day to all of my loves ♡ !

[navybrat817]

Hi Navy 👋

I wanted to send something in for ficlet friday (valentines day). I hope it's alright

Can I request something with Bucky Barnes (maybe beefy bucky) and a shy reader, where they spend valentines day in bed watching movies with cookies, cuddling and kisses and at the end, he surprises the reader, perhaps the reader wants to surprise him as well (you can choose only if you want to 🥺🙈). He is just so gentle and sweet (romantic too) 🥰🫠

With these prompts:

“You give the best hugs.” and “Have I told you I love you today?”

Please? Thank you so much 🥺❤️

Sorry, I got carried away

I hope I did this justice, lovely!

Best Hugs and Kisses

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You spend your first Valentine's Day with Bucky.

Word Count: Over 930

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, sweetness, kisses, cuddling, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You smiled as you snuggled closer to Bucky in bed. You still couldn’t believe it was your first Valentine’s Day together. He had asked you more than once if you wanted to go out to eat or go anywhere special, but you were a bit of a homebody and didn’t mind a quiet day in with cuddling, movies, and treats. You had a feeling he’d enjoy it, too, since he also didn’t mind staying in. He assured you it would be the perfect day, and it was.

You had to admit that cuddling was one of the best parts of the day. It was a perfect moment of closeness, and every little touch built an intimate connection between the two of you. The warmth that radiated from his beefy build created a sense of safety and care, and the soft sound of his breathing and occasional laughter provided a sense of calm. Time seemed to slow down, and the outside world faded away until it was just the two of you. You were completely at ease with the man you loved.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, offering you a bite of his heart shaped cookie. You graciously accepted and tried to ignore the heat that rose to your cheeks when he wiped a crumb away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Something I think you should know.”

“What is it?” you asked curiously, tilting your head back to get a better look at your handsome boyfriend.

He broke eye contact, only because he brought his mouth to your ear. “You give the best hugs.”

You giggled, partially from his lips tickling your ear and the rest because your face felt like it was on fire. “No, I don’t. You do,” you smiled bashfully, ducking your head down.

All your life you had been a bit on the shyer side, content to stay in the background instead of being front and center. Not many took notice of you, and you still weren’t sure some days how you got Bucky’s attention, but you saw each other in the soft shadows and created your own spotlight together. One you didn't mind sharing with each other. It was a beautiful give and take.

And he really did give the best hugs, enveloping you in his loving embrace every time.

Chuckling, too, he tipped your chin back up. “Yeah, you do. And you give the best kisses.”

Butterflies filled your stomach at the soft touch of his lips, your heart melting from the tenderness. There was no rushing, only a slow and delicate pressure like the brush of a feather. When that kiss ended, he began another and another. They stretched on, neither of you wanting it to end as you shared one breath. They were the kind of kisses that dreams were made of.

He smiled as he pulled away, a soft twinkle in his steel eyes. He likely heard how fast your heart was beating and felt the tremble that moved your body. “See? The best kisses,” he said.

You hid your face in his chest. If he kept talking like that you’d turn into a puddle. But you smiled when you realized his heart was beating as fast as yours. Maybe he wasn't as bashful as you, but it was nice to know that kissing you and being close affected him, too.

“Hey, hey. No hiding,” he said, running a hand up and down your back. “I still have to give you your present.”

“You didn't have to get me anything,” you said once you lifted your head.

The super soldier’s jaw dropped. “It’s our first Valentine's Day. I'd be a rotten boyfriend if I didn't get you something.”

“You’re far from rotten, Bucky Barnes,” you smiled, both of you sitting up so he could reach for the present he had nearby. The heart wrapping paper was sweet and you imagined the cashier swooned when he bought it.

He suddenly looked nervous when he handed it over. “I hope you like it,” he said, tucking a bit of his hair behind his ear.

“I’ll love it,” you promised, carefully opening it. It didn't matter what he gave you since it came from him. “Oh, Bucky…” you whispered, tears instantly blurring your vision.

Inside of the box was a scrapbook titled “Our Love Story”. Blinking the tears away, you slowly opened it and saw a photo of the two of you. It was the first photo you had ever taken together. It was one of your happiest memories. Bucky gave you so many fond memories.

“Do you… like it?” he softly asked as you continued to flip through the pages.

“I love it. Thank you,” you answered in awe. It had how you met, your first date, places you visited, your bucket list, and more. There were blank pages in the back to fill up together, too. It was such a thoughtful, touching gift. “Have I told you I love you today?”

“You have, but I’d love to hear it again,” he winked, pleased that you loved your gift.

You held his face in your hands, not shying away when his eyes met yours. “I love you, Bucky,” you whispered.

His eyes slipped shut, briefly overcome with emotion. “I love you, too, sweetheart,” he whispered back.

“Now time for your gift,” you smiled, but he stopped you before you could pull away.

“Later,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you as you giggled. “Right now I want one more of those best kisses.”

You'd give him all the kisses he wanted, today and every day.

Love and thanks for participating! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[unluckilyimnot]

valentine's gift ! – sae, rin, isagi, kaiser, reo, bachira

Note: i did it with other Fandom but didn't finished all of them beside bllk sorry I was busy preparing valentine's day for my gf. I'll post them tomorrow !!

m.list | rules

Sae has a list with all the things you once mentioned or showed him. It includes clothes, books, perfume – you name it. He’s also closely following all your new books and pieces so he doesn’t get it twice, for books only if it’s a prettier edition. He doesn’t care that you don’t like having things in double, he’ll get it. Any of this, if not all of it, along with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He’d also love see you try the clothes he just got you

Rin prefers to offer you an experience, so maybe he’ll get you a place for an exposition or an escape game ! Something you can share with him, having pictures on your wall and good memories. That also can be going to the movie theater to see a cheesy movie so you two only laugh all along.

Isagi is more shy about it, he really doesn't want to mess it up ! He's asking his friends and even his mom for advice before offering you a homemade meal – that he did himself, with his mother's help. He thought that only chocolate would be boring, so why not enjoy a whole meal and some show you currently have going on ?

Bachira is all about handmade gifts, he's a DIY king. And his mother is always here to help him if he's stuck with something. He would make you a paper bouquet, the kind of letter or box when you open it there's pop-up hearts. He tries every year to make you chocolate but he still hasn’t found a good recipe it seems.

Kaiser is all too much, every time with gifts. He has money so why not spend it on you? He wants you to brag about it, even if he knows that's not the type of gift you cherish the most. That's why every year he takes you to a new or small restaurant, held by natives. It's really out of his new comfort zone, but so that you two can make special memories, meet new people and cultures. Because he never had the occasion to go to this kind of restaurant before, he wants to discover each of them with you.

Reo doesn't want to rely on money – well, not too much. You'll ALWAYS have a giant bouquet of roses, but he tries his best to make the rest meaningful. Yes, he'll buy you that pretty ring you saw the other day as well, and that perfume you said was too expensive. But you'll also have a handwritten, 4 page letter about how much he loves you and how you bring light to his life every day. You'll find a plushie of your favorite animal he made himself in crochet (he learned it just for you) on your bed. It's all about the implication he puts that makes it beautiful.

Let me know if you liked it !

[goldenroutledge]

don’t you remember

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

prompts: ❛ you don’t have to keep me company, i’m fine by myself. ❜ & ❛ can you look at me? please? ❜

summary: running into charles at your favorite spot might be fate’s way (or leo’s way) of bringing you back together.

warning(s): some angst but a happy ending!

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

You don’t miss Charles Leclerc.

You don’t miss the constant travel, the way he softly snores on planes, how his head used to rest against your shoulder, subconsciously finding comfort in your presence even in his sleep.

You don’t miss his curt, one word responses when words got sharp and petty arguments grew between you. You don’t miss his forgetfulness, his habit of brushing the important things under the rug, knowing that you’ll still be there to deal with them later. Once upon a time, his carelessness endeared you, like when he’d kiss you no matter who was watching. That trait of his ultimately turned against you.

You don’t miss the sound of him practicing piano, at any hour day or night. You don’t miss the way he poured his heart out to the piano and saved nothing for you.

Nor do you miss the pitter patter of Leo’s paws through the halls when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, curling up at the foot of your bed. Okay, maybe you do miss that a little bit.

You don’t miss how after standing by Charles for years, cheering him on from the start, his one true love means more to him than you ever could; having a real shot at claiming the World Driver’s Championship. It’s the only prize he could keep his eyes on, one that you could never compare yourself to, knowing that achievement would be larger than life for him. Everything, and everyone else, coming in second place.

That’s exactly why you couldn’t spare any more time denying the obvious. Months were spent convincing yourself that it was the right decision, reassured by the common saying that people either grow apart or they grow together. The breakup might have been sudden, but you’d grown so far apart that he was out of your reach, and you had grown out of his. Each of your paths had no intersection in sight.

It’s what led you to bail on him at the last minute, deciding to randomly stay home instead of accompanying your boyfriend to a race weekend. Charles had mastered the art of avoiding tough conversations; you’d only done the same. It didn’t break your heart any less knowing that Charles and Leo would arrive home to an empty apartment come Monday.

Sure the furniture, the decorations, the art work, his beloved grand piano… the material things remained. However your clothes, your belongings, your pictures, your presence, it was all gone. Any trace of the years you’d spent together, gone as if they never existed in the first place. If Charles wanted space, this was the only way you knew how to give it to him. Maybe, just maybe, he’d come to regret it.

Seeing his family around has been hard. His beloved mom and brothers now hesitate to rush to your side and talk to you like they used to. They might smile out of habit, recognizing your familiar face before they remember what’s happened between you and Charles. Like the flick of a light switch, you were strangers, despite once upon a time being embraced as a member of their close-knit family.

Social media doesn’t serve much of a purpose for you these days. Your friends understand that being tagged in countless fan edits and gossip posts about your breakup has got to burn. If the breakup itself wasn’t wounding enough, you’re forced to relive it with each notification. Embracing the new routine has been good for you, offering stability that life with Charles simply couldn’t-

You drop your pen, pausing from writing in your journal as the incessant barking of a dog interrupts your train of thought. The sound grows louder with each one.

You take one glance of your surroundings, and that’s when you see him. Leo Leclerc, barreling towards you as quickly as his little legs can take him. He’s now the reason your face lights up in the midst of a rather torturous journaling session.

“Leo! What are you doing over here?” You can’t help but pet him. His tongue hangs out of his mouth and his abandoned leash drags against the grass beneath him.

You then realize that if Leo got away, Charles must not be too far. You hope it’s his assistant taking the dog for a walk today. Then again, your quiet hideout spot is along one of Charles’ favorite trails to run. The hair on the back of your neck stands up when you hear the sound of his voice, calling Leo’s name in hopes that he’ll reappear.

Leo, none the wiser, gives kisses to your exposed skin and barks out in excitement. You cringe, knowing that Charles definitely isn’t too far away after hearing the familiar sound.

He rounds the corner, and upon spotting his dog, Charles is more relieved than anything else. “Leo! There you-,” …Until he sees who Leo ran off to find in the first place. “Y/n? Is that you?”

You wave politely, still trying to calm Leo down from his burst of enthusiasm. “Hi, Charles.”

“I, uhh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Makes two of us. Looks like Leo had other ideas.”

Charles smiles, approaching slowly as if he’s intruding on the moment. “You scare me when you run off like that.” He mumbles to Leo, catching his own breath as he was clearly in the midst of a workout. “I’m sorry, he still hasn’t learned much about obedience.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Your words are melancholy, and you try to keep the smile on your face despite knowing this will probably be the last time you see either of them. Unless this happens again, of course. Talk about irony. It’s almost as if Charles was summoned here as you were writing about him. You close the journal with haste, hoping Charles didn’t see his name clearly written at the top. “I guess Leo’s not as over me as you are.”

You regret saying the words immediately after they come out. Heat rises to your cheeks, luckily the sun is partially to blame. Charles’ expression hardens, unsure of what to say or do. “You have no idea what this has been like for me, finding that note on your nightstand, telling me you were leaving.”

“Forget it, Charles. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, whatever you may think, it could not be farther from the truth.” Instead of bidding you adieu, leaving this awkward moment for your memory to replay before you fall asleep tonight, he sits down beside you. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened between us, trying to understand how it happened in the first place. Can you just tell me why you did it? Or tell me what I did to cause it?”

You shrug. “People grow apart, Charles. Nothing lasts forever.”

He laughs bitterly. “Glad to see you’ve turned so cynical. Me too.”

“Not cynical, just realistic. Our breakup has helped me realize a lot of things, actually.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s probably time to move to a bigger place, for one. Where I don’t run into my ex at my favorite sitting spot.” Charles freezes like a deer in headlights, until you nudge his arm with your elbow. “Relax, I’m just kidding. Kind of.”

“And you still have jokes. Good to know.”

Leo has calmed down and snuggled up between you and Charles. By the looks of it, he’s dozing off into an afternoon nap. Your heart warms at the sight of him, and though he’s just a dog, you can imagine that he’s feeling content between the two people that adopted him.

“You can come see him anytime, you know.”

“And that’s not just a ploy to get me back into your apartment?”

“You mean our apartment? It used to be yours too.”

“Exactly, used to be.”

“But it doesn’t have to be like that anymore. We can work it out, we can talk about everything that brought us here. Will you give us that chance?”

Your heart pangs with sadness at the reminder that this is all an illusion. Charles isn’t yours anymore, neither is Leo. He can feel your mood change at the mention of your old life together, and the distance that’s wedged itself between you now. “On second thought, you don’t have to keep me company, I’m fine by myself. You should get back to your workout, Charles.”

Absent-mindedly, you doodle on a blank page, hoping it will convince him you’re too busy for this. There’s no way he can let this conversation fall between his fingers. “Well, I need to rehydrate. So I’m staying.”

“Still stubborn, I see.”

“We spent years together, Y/n. You can’t tolerate me for more than five minutes?”

“You know what Charles? I wanted to be nice, to try to extend some kind of olive branch of friendship but I don’t think I can. We ended things for a reason and we can’t be friends.”

“Ended things? You mean, when you fled our apartment in the middle of the night?”

“Spare me. Things were long over between us. You just never had the balls to end it officially. Or at least wish me a good rest of my life.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but you don’t know what you’re talking about. Leo still sits by the door waiting for you. I must be some kind of idiot because I listen for the door, too. Hoping that one day maybe you’ll walk through it and come back home to us.”

“There is no home for me to come back to, Charles.” You mumble, but he’s insistent on finishing everything he’s been wanting to say to you since you left.

“And as for reaching out, you don’t know how badly I have wanted to. How close I have been to pressing send on some things I probably shouldn’t say, but do you know what stops me?”

“What stops you?”

“The thought of you carrying on, of being happy, maybe being happy with someone else who can give you everything you want. I never wanted to impose on your life because you made it clear that you don’t want me there anymore.”

“Are you insane? That’s not what happened at all! You ‘left’ me so you wouldn’t feel guilty about choosing your career anymore. I left because I didn’t want there to be a choice at all. You say that I left you, but it was mutual. You left me first.”

“Well, I was wrong. I could feel us growing apart and I didn’t do anything to stop it.” Charles shakes his head. “But Y/n, if I knew this is where we would end up, I would change everything. I should’ve never let you let me go. I should’ve fought.” You stay still, ignoring a tear that slips down your cheek and splatters onto the hardcover of your journal. “Y/n, can you look at me? Please?”

Leo’s woken up from the sound of Charles’ voice, alarmed at the distress in his dad’s voice, and the sadness radiating from his mom that he hasn’t seen in far too long. You lean down to kiss the daschund’s head before standing up.

“I should go.”

The dog is quick to follow you, and his cries are unmistakable, as if begging you to stay. Poor Leo never did anything to you. It’s a shame that he suffers from the decisions you and Charles made.

“If you won’t stay for me, will you stay for him?” Charles calls out, finally out of options now that he’s said what’s been weighing on his chest. He walks towards you and takes your free hand in his to stop you. His eyes share a similar look to your own, betting it all on one last plea.

“I can’t change the past. I can’t apologize enough for my mistakes. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel for me anymore, I will let you go. I will wish you a good rest of your life and never bother you again if that’s what you want.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I love you, mon chéri. I always have and I always will. And if you decide to walk away, just promise me you won’t forget that.”

You nod, still teary-eyed. “Fine. I won’t.”

“So what’s it gonna be? Do we have to say goodbye?”

“It’s going to take time, Charles.” You look down at the ground, focusing on Leo walking around you.

Charles’ eyes have watered, and you resist the urge to engulf him into a hug. “However long it takes, I’ll be here. I can’t lose you.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You are. You’ve always been there for me, even when I don’t deserve it.” Charles takes a deep breath, composing himself. “But that’s going to change. I’m going to be someone who deserves you.”

You smile softly. “You’re not so bad, Charles. For what it’s worth, I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I never wanted to lose you either.”

Charles beams at you with hope in his eyes. He wants to hold you, to remind himself that you’re here in front of him after all this time, but he stops himself.

Instead, you take him into your arms, reveling in his familiar embrace. He wraps his arms around you, and his chest feels lighter. “Thank you.” He murmurs into your ear, wishing the moment to last forever.

You both chuckle as below you, Leo barks happily and wags his tail ferociously. “Me? You should be thanking him. If he hadn’t run off and found me here, we would’ve never ran into each other. We got Parent-Trapped by our dog.”

Charles leans down to pick Leo up, sighing in contentment as he looks between you two with admiration. “I guess we did, didn’t we?”

“But something tells me we were always meant to find our way back to each other. Isn’t that right, Leo?”

Leo barks at the sound of his name, confirming what you’ve both known all along; some things are just meant to be.

💌: thanks for reading! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! feel free to request more from my be my valentine blurb event

taglist: @marjorieswrld (add yourself here!)

[ssahotchnerr]

love ur writing!! 🥰😌

would love to see a one shot (or anything tbh) of reader waking up early on vday hoping to make aaron breakfast but he’s beat her to it instead! she just wanted to do something nice for him since he takes care of everyone else but he’s physically incapable of not taking care of her!!

a sweet start

thank you🫶🏻!!! ugh aaron and valentine's day is my favorite thing ever <333 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, descriptions of food, a lot of fluff 🥰

Your phone vibrated beneath your pillow, rousing you from what had been a restful sleep. You had purposely set the alarm low, needing it to be enough to awake you, but not so much as to disturb Aaron.

It was early. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, the bedroom still profusely dark. It was only six, but the hour would guarantee you the time you needed.

You quickly clicked it off, holding still for a moment before looking over your shoulder to ensure he hadn't stirred - your morning plans depended on it. But to your surprise, you found Aaron's side of the bed completely empty.

Shaking off the remnants of sleep, you fumbled with your robe, tripping over your feet as you slipped into your slippers.

You found Aaron in the kitchen; still in his pajamas, standing at the stove with a soft concentration. A bouquet of red roses was perched on the counter, catching your eye and sending a flutter through your chest. Sweet man.

The savory scent of buttery eggs, melting cheese and a touch of spice filled your nose as you inched closer. The floor creaked underneath your feet, causing him to turn.

"Morning sweetheart."

"What are you doing up?" You asked, your words laced with a yawn.

"Making you breakfast," Aaron grinned, averting his focus to fold over the omelet in the skillet. "Happy Valentine's Day."

You sidled up to him, allowing him to throw an arm around you and chastely pressing a kiss to your temple. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

Your words left you softly, causing him to crane his head down, lips in a soft smile before he brought them to yours, kissing you adoringly. You smiled into the kiss, and he mumbled an I love you.

"You're up early." He commented once he pulled away, filled with a light sense of urgency - fear your omelet would burn.

You burrowed into his side as much as you could, trying to soak up as much warmth as possible. Aaron, in his simple t-shirt, felt like a furnace against you. "You had the same idea as me."

His spatula slowed as he soaked in your sentence. His gaze shot to you with some alarm in his eyes - the sudden guilt of spoiling your plans.

"No no no," you laughed gently, kissing him once. Twice. "It's okay, I promise. I still have surprises planned. I just wanted to do something for you. You’re always giving so much - whether it's for me, your team, or anyone who needs you. I wanted to remind you that you deserve to be cared for, just as much as you care for everyone else."

"That's crazy talk. Sweetheart..." He trailed off as he transferred your omelet to a plate, turning off the burners as a safety precaution.

Aaron leaned back against the counter and pulled you forward at the hips, so casually and natural it brought a blush to your cheeks. "Don't even get me started on how much you do for me. Truly. You're here when I come home each day. You support me and understand when I don't. You remind me that despite the horrors I'm subject to encounter daily, there's still good in the world. You've accepted Jack with open, loving arms."

Your expression softened, your lips pouting slightly in a flattered manner.

"You're just, here. My shoulder to lean on. That's all I can ask for and as a result, this is the least I can do. Although you deserve it every day, I want you to have the perfect day today. I intend to go all out."

"I already am, simply because I have you." You wrapped your arms firmly around his middle, closing the gap between the two of you. "How in the world did I get so lucky?"

"That's funny, I was asking myself the same question."

"Thank you for the flowers," you mumbled into chest, pressing a kiss right over his heart. "And thank you for loving me so deeply."

"It's the easiest thing I've ever done. Mean it." He squeezed his arms around you, letting up only to resume doting on you. "What kind of jelly do you want on your toast? Strawberry? Grape?"

"Surprise me." Your lips pulled into a gentle smile as you nestled back into his side, right where you belonged.

A grin tugged onto Aaron's face in return, reaching for the bread, "Anything for my valentine."