#it just came out a little late in the game

[bucketbueckers]

TEAM BUECKERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: language, kinda silly, kinda rushed

wc: 5.9k

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

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

tags: @jnkbueckers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As one does.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could only hope so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bueckers.”

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

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

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

You snort. “I’m Slay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Desperate,” you cut in. 

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

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

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

“Sure,” you concede. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Team Bueckers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You dropped hints before?”

“So many,” she confirms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You gonna share those coupons?”

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

“You’ve got me.”

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

[anemoiashifts]

what your s/o thinks about you !

+ your relationship

choose a painting above.

💌

disclaimer !! please don’t force messages to fit. i do a ton of readings & im sure if this one doesn’t fit, you will find one eventually that resonates. this is just a general reading :) ! ps this is also primarily for people who have not shifted yet but that doesn’t mean people who have shifted can’t get some insight on how their s/o feels about them !

sorry this reading is so late. i was on top of my game by posting this on the first of the month for a while. anywho ! happy late valentine’s day. may you consume all the gourmet chocolate & watch all the cheesy 2000’s strait to dvd romance movies you can find. sending you all a virtual bouquet of flowers. rose ? tulips ? your choice.

────୨ৎ────

🕊️ | dear pile one,

quite honestly based on the cards i pulled, your s/o puts you on a pedestal more then anything. they love that analytical, take nothing at face value aspect of you. while they celebrate it, they see it can become your detriment too. overthinking your every action, going “frame by frame” in life, can be tiring. you have a tendency to keep stuff in to appease others & not rock the boat, which they pick up on more then you think they do. this is someone intuitive & can sense your emotional wellbeing as if it was sentient. they want you to come to them. a caregiver at heart, wanting to soothe any insecurity or worry that floats around in the back of your head. while they may be awkward & stiff with their approach, they mean well despite struggle to execute the touchy-feely aspect to your relationship. they’re not as open as you are when it comes to emotions or trusting others. they’ve been burned in the past & for some of you that could mean literally. they’re the silent, sitting in a dark corner, the people watching type. they appreciate your input & how you always seem to open their eyes to new perspectives that they’d never come up with themselves which pulls them out of their funk.

the both of you make up a wing of a phoenix, always rising from the ashes of whatever hardship you may be facing together. the two of you are riddled with self doubts at times, teaching each other how to heal from trauma or let things go once & for all.

in summary with a few extra details ? they love you. like i said they see you as this light which they are not worthy of. with these last two cards & pure vibes im getting the picture that they had this perfectly curated “cool” aesthetic image to anyone looking in on them & when you came around that was shattered, leaving them vulnerable & scrambling to put the pieces back with old chewing gum & popsicle sticks. this person has a tendency to be secretive. never sneaky. not like hiding their phone screen or anything. more like not telling you things to upkeep that image they so desperately want for themselves. could be all smokes & mirrors to hide what’s really going on or maybe they just want you to think highly of them, the same way they think of you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

🐩 | dear pile two,

they like to keep it light with you. it’s giving cat & mouse. on & off but you always end up together. a class project, a seating arrangement. you just look good together, aesthetically.

this person likes to pretend they’re nonchalant & don’t care as much as they really do. unlike pile one, they feel like they have nothing to hide from you. you’re both open books with one another. you have been to the depths of hell & the highest of heavens together. it.

they can get a little short & irritated. nothing a throwing a table lamp at a wall won’t fix, usually. not the best of methods to let out some steam but know none of that is directed at you. anger issues are very much present within this person. why this is relevant is because it impacts your relationship more then this person will ever admit. they have a vision, having carefully crafted a plan before you came into the picture & now that you’ve stumbled into their life it’s setting everything ablaze. a workaholic who is now scrambling carefully combing through their prospects & goals to make accommodations in the margins for your presence & that scares them sometimes. at times embarrassed that you have this imaginary grip on every aspect of their life. they want to buy a new car ? what’s your favorite color ? they’re hungry ? they’ll stop at your favorite place as an excuse to bring you your favorite dessert. they somehow hold everything together really well considering the unnecessary stress they put on themselves.

expect late nights & going to bed alone. when morning comes, arising with a bouquet of flowers being delicately placed on your bedside table with a handwritten note. chances are they’re probably in the kitchen doing the dishes you were to lazy to do the night prior. their love langue is very much acts of service. they really really do care. going to the ends of the earth to bring you your simplest of desires. weather that be leonardo da vinci's "salvator mundi” or a pair of shoes you saw in a vintage fashion magazine yesterday. it will show up perfectly perched on your bed on a random tuesday as a just because.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

🐇 | dear pile three,

deep, intense spiritual connection. literal fireworks erupt when you first locked eyes with them. you’re in tune with others emotions & can physically feel what the other feels. you’ve spent past lives together. very high school cheerleader x football player in a 90’s romcom. a slight delay in actually dating or tying the knot. the whole friends to lovers pipeline may be in the cards for you. at the very least, a slow burn type romance.

you two could’ve met traveling. maybe that’s something they do for work ? nonetheless, they seem very artistic. having a sketch book filled with drawings of you & your favorite things. a secret poet who writes poems about you & puts little hearts around your name like a lovesick school girl. a photographer who takes your photograph when you least expect it. not in a creepy way. they just like to look at you. except them to pick you up little things off the ground and present them to you like a small child. they like collecting rocks & see a really shiny one on the ground ? congratulations you are now a proud shiny rock owner ! they’re very sentimental & thoughtful like that. someone who has a little box of every item you’ve ever given them no matter how minuscule. you’re their home, which could’ve been something they’ve never had before & neglected to even think about before they ever met you. somethings does tells me they’re a little bit of an age gap. if not in the literal sense, one of you may be more mature then the other. an “old soul”. this could go for any aspect in your relationship. sense of humor, how petty they (or you) could be, interests, tastes.

the love talking to you. loveeeee talking in general. about things that interest them, about things that interest you, the news, a new book they read. a very curious mind of which they enjoy sharing with you. i mean like up until four in the morning talking to you in bed all while still under the impression that it’s nine o’clock at night. time absolutely flies when it comes to spending time with each other. most importantly ? they listen. really well. like their memory is pretty much photographic. said your favorite food was chocolate covered strawberries one time two years ago ? your fridge will never not have chocolate covered strawberries in it again for the rest of your life.

────୨ৎ────

[watchmegetobsessed]

LITTLE NERDY VALENTINE

A/N: one day late, but here's a bit of valentine's day cuteness with fratry bc i've been thinking a lot about him lately

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

SUMMARY: Harry wants to celebrate Valentine's Day, but you're not a fan of his plans of going out and you have your reasons for that, but talking about them is not easy, so it causes some frustration.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So, what do you want to do on Friday?” 

Harry is lying on your bed with a textbook lying open over his chest, but he hasn’t read a single word of it in the last hour, he’s been too busy playing on his phone while you were sitting at your desk, working on a paper that’s due next week. He came over to study, but you both knew you’d be doing all the studying, you actually have no idea how Harry has good grades. 

“Friday? What’s on Friday?” you hum, still typing away on your computer, pretending to be oblivious.

“You know…” He draws out the words, sitting up so his back is against the wall. He puts the textbook aside, closing it, done pretending he is actually reading any of it. 

“Hm?” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel Harry’s burning eyes on your back. 

“Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day,” he chuckles, giving up the game. “We are having a Cupid’s Party at the frat house, but if you want to go out, maybe have dinner or something I’m down.”

“Uh, I don’t know…” 

“Or we can go to the movies, I’m willing to watch that new romcom with you, if you want.”

“Harry…” Sighing you give up and finally turn with your chair to look at him, but you wish you didn’t because he is giving you those puppy eyes he knows you can’t resist and he is hugging your pink fluffy pillow like a little kid. 

“Y/N?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out.”

You catch the tiny wince that twitches his lips, but he recovers quickly. You were really hoping you could avoid this conversation today, though part of you knew it would come up, since it’s Wednesday, only 2 days until Valentine’s Day. 

His eyes jump down at the pillow as he starts fumbling with it, like a hurt kid who just got told no. 

“Harry…”

“Are we ever gonna leave this room and act like a real couple?” 

“Don’t start this again, please…”

“I just understand, Y/N,” he groans as he looks up at you again. “We’ve been together for over two months and I haven’t even held your hand in public.”

“That’s not true, you held my hand when–”

“When we were hiking in the middle of the woods so no one could see us. Yeah, you’re right,” he scoffs. 

“We’ve talked about this,” you say, looking down at your lap as the guilt bubbles in your gut. 

“Actually, we haven’t. You just keep telling me you need more time, but never really explain why or what bothers you. I’m trying to be patient, but I really want to take our relationship out of this tiny dorm room.” He gestures around your room where you spend the majority of your time together with him. 

Chewing on your bottom lip you just keep picking on your chipped nail polish, not looking at him, but then he climbs to the edge of the bed so he is sitting right in front of you. He lifts your chin gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I’m more than happy to wait for you, but I need to know a bit more.” He places a hand to your thigh, reassuringly rubbing it as he waits for you to say something. 

“I’m just… I don’t know, I like that it’s just the two of us.”

“Bullshit. It would still be just us.”

Ugh, you hate how well he knows you, you can’t lie to him, but you’re not willing to tell him the truth either. 

“Can we just not talk about this right now? I really need to finish this pa–”

“Y/N, stop avoiding this, please. You know you can tell me anything.”

He is looking at you, waiting and expecting, but you just can’t give him what he wants. His gaze keeps flickering between your eyes, hoping you’d finally open up, but you keep your mouth shut. And then he loses his patience.

“Alright then,” he whispers, jumping up to gather his things, showing everything into his backpack.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him tug the zipper angrily before swinging the bag over one shoulder. 

“I can’t do this, Y/N. I don’t want to hide and not even know why. You wouldn’t tell me what bothers you, so I have to draw my own conclusions and want to know what all of this seems like to me? Like you don’t want to be seen with me, like you’re ashamed of being with me.”

“Harry, that’s not true,” you protest, standing from your chair. 

“Then what is it?”

You open your mouth, but your voice dies in your throat. Unfortunately, Harry takes that as your answer. 

“Okay. Call me when you’re willing to talk.”

And with that, he is out of the room. 

A couples’ party might not have been the best place to be today for Harry, but the thought of easing his mind with a few rounds of beerpong was good enough to make him leave his room and join the party. 

Cupid’s Party usually has two groups of people: the happy couples, attached by the hip, eating each other’s face off and the single people getting wasted, hoping to at least hook up with someone. Currently Harry doesn’t feel like he belongs to any of these groups.

He assesses the living room over the rim of his red solo cup and tries his best to ignore the pain in his chest at the sight of all the happy couples in matching outfits, celebrating their love. In the beginning of the week he was still hoping he and you might be one of them, but things didn’t turn out to be the way he planned. 

After the fight in your room you texted him, asking him to come back, but he made it clear he wouldn’t be doing that unless you’re willing to talk.

Which you werent, so it’s been radio silence since then. 

He had to stop himself from texting or calling you like a million times, it’s been quite the fight since Wednesday, he’s been missing you like crazy, but he is also determined to finally move forward. 

“You alright man?” Niall pats him on the back with a cup in his own hand that smells so much of alcohol that Harry can’t stop himself from wrinkling his nose. While he likes to have drinks, he is often surprised how some of his friends in the house haven’t died of alcohol poisoning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he nods with a sigh. 

“Uhuh, that’s why you’ve been moping around for days, right?” Niall laughs.

“I have not–”

“I have not been moping, you arse!” Niall mocks him, which he finds hilarious, but Harry just rolls his eyes and takes a swig from your drink. “Alright, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push it, but if you feel like you need a shoulder, you can come to me.”

“I know,” Harry sighs. “Thanks, I’ll just get a refill for now,” he says, holding up his cup. Niall nods and they go their separate way.

Harry fights through the crowd towards the kitchen and tries his best not to get stopped by drunk girls that are more than eager to hook up with him tonight. He would love to tell them he is taken, but he can’t. Even despite the fight you had, he still doesn’t want to go against your will and tell everyone that you’re dating. 

The kitchen is a mess, but he quickly finds the tequila and then mixes it with some pineapple juice, then he stops by the pizza and grabs a slice so his stomach wouldn’t be completely empty. Though his original plan was to get drunk, but now he is not feeling that, so this is probably his last drink, since he is starting to feel a bit dizzy. 

Leaning against the counter he is debating if he should just go back to his room and spend the rest of the night playing video games, but then he spots an all too familiar face in the crowd outside in the hallway. 

You look very uncomfortable, navigating between the half drunk people while looking like you’re searching for someone. Harry puts his pizza slice down right away and he just starts moving towards you when he sees a guy bumping into you, making your shoulder hit the wall.

“Ah, sorry sweetheart, you alright?” the guy asks and his hand is already on your arm, leaning way closer than you’d like him to.

“It’s okay Dave, I got her.” Harry pats him on the back in a friendly manner, though inside he is fuming at the way he is looking at you right now, like he is ready to peel you out of your clothes. 

“Harry, hey! I was just–”

“I know, I got her,” Harry repeats, this time with a tougher look at the guy, which he finally notices so he just nods and wanders away. “Are you okay?” he asks, finally looking at you, keeping one hand on your elbow.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” you ask and Harry nods right away, moving his hand to the small of your back, guiding you upstairs, towards his room. 

You’ve been to his frat house, you actually met him at a party here, but you’ve never been to his room. If the other boys saw you coming and going from his room it would have been quite obvious there’s something going on between the two of you, so you usually stayed at your dorm room where it was easier for Harry to sneak out without being noticed, that place is too big for anyone to notice him.

The hallway leading to his room is scattered with couples making out by the wall and you try not to stare at the pair that’s practically dry humping each other like they are in a private place. 

Harry unlocks his door with his keycard and then ushers you inside, finally shutting the noises of the party out. You’re curiously looking around the room that’s a lot tidier than you expected. Aside from a few clothes lying in the corner and two unwashed mugs on his night stand, it’s pretty neat. On his desk you notice the book you gifted him a week ago. You pick it up and open it where the bookmark is at around the third of the book and then you realize the bookmark is a polaroid of the two of you. It was taken the first time he slept in your room, your faces are mushed together as you laugh at something. You remember him taking a picture, but you weren’t expecting him to use it as his bookmark, which is such a sweet thing. 

He has been nothing but sweet to you and that just makes your guilt even worse for treating him the way you did. 

When you turn around you find him watching you with his hands in his pockets, just patiently waiting for you to start talking. 

“I’m sorry for making you feel like I’m ashamed of you. That was never the case and… yeah, I’m just really sorry.”

Harry nods, but then just keeps looking at you and you know he wants you to continue. So taking a deep breath you force yourself to keep talking before you chicken out. 

“I was actually thinking it was the other way around.”

That confuses him, he frowns but before he could ask anything you just continue.

“We are not really from the same crowd. You’re… You live in a frat house, you play football, people know you around campus while I’m more like just… a face in the crowd. I know it’s such a cliché, but I felt like that if people saw us together they would question why you’d go out with me a-and–Um… I just…”

“And you thought that I would also question why I’m with you?” he finishes what you couldn’t and you just nod, feeling your throat closing up. It’s been such a heavy weight on your chest the past weeks and now that you said it out loud it’s a relief but you’re also worried how Harry will think of you now. 

Then his eyes soften and stepping closer he gathers your hands between his palms, holding them to his chest. 

“Y/N, you realize this is not a movie where there are popular kids and nerds and they never talk?” he asks with a soft chuckle, making you laugh. 

“I know. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s just been haunting me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you repeat. “Deep down I knew it, but I just couldn’t help it. I thought that I could get rid of it with time, but I couldn’t and I swear I didn’t want to hurt you with all of this, it’s just that I can easily get into these… spirals and it’s so hard to get out of them.”

“I know,” he softly says and leaning closer he kisses your forehead. “I just wish you told me so I could help you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.”

Letting go of your hands he cups your cheeks in his palms as he pulls you in for a kiss while your hands fist the fabric of his shirt at his waist. He is sweet and gentle, his lips reassuring you that he is right here, with you. He rests his forehead against yours, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. 

“By the way, did you just call me a nerd?” you ask, opening your eyes, making Harry laugh with your words.

“Do you not fit the nerdy stereotype of romcoms?” he challenges you with a wide grin on his face.

“Well, I do study a lot and spend every other afternoon in the library.”

“See? You’re my little nerdy Valentine,” he arches an eyebrow and you just roll your eyes at him, but can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. Then slowly, his expression turns more serious. “So what would you like to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a sigh.

“Listen. If you need more time… I’m okay with that. I want you to feel comfortable and if that means that I have to convince you that no one will point fingers at us if they see us together, then that’s what I’ll do.”

You’ve known it from the beginning, but Harry just keeps proving that he is the right person for you and you couldn’t be more thankful for him. 

Leaning in you kiss him shortly. “I want to move forward, I’m just a bit scared.”

“Then you’ll lead us in whatever pace feels comfortable for you, okay?”

You nod and he kisses you again. 

“Do you want to go back down?” he asks, nodding towards the door. 

“Yeah, I would like that.”

Walking out of his room he locks the door and the two of you head back down and you notice that he is still keeping his distance from you, not trying to change everything all of a sudden. Returning to the kitchen he makes you a drink and he grabs another slice of pizza when Niall emerges from the crowd. 

“Hey, you’re still here! Thought you’d lock yourself up in your room soon,” he chuckles seeing Harry.

“You thought I’d bail?” Harry grins, leaning against the counter. Niall’s eyes move over to you.

“I think we haven’t met yet. I’m Niall.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand. You catch a look the two boys exchange and after that, Niall just smiles at Harry knowingly.

“Alright, I’ll be by the beerpong tables if you need me,” he waves before making his way out of the kitchen. 

“You have a bit of sauce there,” you point at Harry’s mouth smiling.

“Hm? Here?” he asks, wiping his lips, but he completely misses the spot, making you laugh. “Where?” he grins.

“Right there…” You raise a hand to help him out, but it stops midway when a thought pops into your mind and before you could talk yourself out of it, you lean in and kiss his lips. 

“Now you’re good,” you smile against his lips. Harry can’t contain his growing grin, because this was the first time you kissed him in front of other people. 

“I think it’s still there.”

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle at him.

“Yeah, all over my lips, everywhere.”

“Stop,” you roll your eyes at him laughing. He leans down and kisses you shortly before he continues eating his pizza, trying his best not to comment it when your hand sneaks into free hand, fingers lacing together.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[queenbee298]

Hey, can you do one where Y/N has coffee that's really sweet and Doey, being curious, drinks it and gets really hyper before having a sugar crash?

Good idea 👍🏾 Thank you for request this story. Poppy Playtime x Gender Neutral Reader “Finally Free” Request #4. Enjoy the story. Btw it may take a while for me to get all of your request, but I will write them. Lots of fluff ☁️ in this story.

🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬

Like any other day, you woke up did your daily routine and make breakfast for your family. The toys woke up and came downstairs for breakfast

Y/N: “Morning kids.”

You prepared waffles, bacon, eggs, and orange juice for your kids. And a coffee for yourself.

Doey was the last one to walk downstairs. He let out a big yawn, showing he’s big, red fang.

Y/N: “Good morning, Doey.

You placed a kiss on has forehead.

Doey: “Good morning, mama/papa.”

You prepared a plate for yourself and Doey and join the others at the kitchen table. You set your coffee near you and Doey.

Doey: “Mama/Papa, what are you drinking?”

Y/N: “ Just some coffee.”

Doey: “Can I have some?”

Y/N: “No, sir. The last time we need is for you to have a sugar rush.”

Doey pouted a little, but when back to eating. As you and your family were eating breakfast, the door knocked.

Y/N: “Oh! That must be my new camera!”

You ordered a new camera to take pictures of your new family. You left the table, and Doey stared at your mug.

Doey 💭: Now’s my chance! But mom/dad said no. Maybe a little sip won’t hurt.

Doey picked up your mug and took a sip. The coffee was sweet and had a taste of peppermint. Doey chugged your mug until it was empty.

You came back into the kitchen to show off your new camera.

Y/N: “Hey guys, check out my new camera. You want to take some pictures of you all the hang up on the walls.”

Poppy: “That sounds like fun!”

Kissy wrote on her write board: “I want to look perfect for the camera.”

Y/N: “Okay, let’s finish breakfast then we can start.”

You went back to your sit to finish your breakfast. You tried to take a sip of your coffee, but the mug was empty. The only one who could have drunk it was Doey. You didn’t say anything until Breakfast was over.

Y/N: “Kids, why don’t you go play? I need to talk to Doey for a minute.”

The toys left the kitchen, leaving you and Doey alone.

Y/N: “Didn’t I tell you not to drink the coffee?”

Doey: “…Yes.”

Y/N: “So, why did you drink it?”

Doey: “I know, I know! I’m sorry! But it was so sweet and tasty! And smelled like peppermint!”

Doey continued rambling so quickly. You knew he was beginning to have a sugar rush. You needed to get the sugar out his system or he might destroy your house.

Y/N: “Okay, Okay! Doey, it’s fine. Why don’t we play a game?”

Doey: “Like what!?”

Y/N: “Hide and seek tag. You try to hide and I’ll seek.”

Doey: “Okay! Okay, Okay! Let’s play!”

He took your arm and ran outside.

Y/N: “Okay now you go hide and I’ll seek!”

You counted to ten and went to look for Doey. As you were looking for Doey, you heard giggling behind some bushes and saw Doey hiding.

Y/N: “Tag, you’re it!”

You ran as fast as you could away from Doey, but he was too fast to the sugar in his body. You looked back to see him catching up to you really quickly. You tried to run away from him, but he was too fast and grabbed you by your sides, tickling you. You broke out into laughter.

Y/N: “Doey! Stop! I’m caught! I’m caught! Let me go! Please!”

Doey: “ Ha! You’re it! You are it! You can’t trick me! I’m too good! I’m too quick!”

You couldn’t stop laughing as Doey continued tickling you and bragging about him catching you. He stopped tickling you and picked you up in the air.

Doey: “ Let’s play some more mama/papa!”

You gave him a thumb up as you were a little tired.

For the next 2 hours, you played capture the flag, statues, scavenger hunt, and Hopscotch. Some of the mini critters and Yarnaby came out to play were you two, but they couldn’t keep up with Doey’s sugary energy.

Y/N: “Okay, Doey. It’s getting late. Let’s go inside.”

Doey: “But I’m still wanna play!”

Y/N: “Well, let’s play inside.”

You, Doey, and the others toys came inside the house and the toys, except for Doey, fell asleep on the couch. Yarnaby took up most of couch and the mini critters laid on top of him.

Doey: “What do you want to play now, mama/papa.”

Y/N: “I got the perfect game!”

Doey: “OH! What is it?”

Y/N: “Sit next to Yarnaby, close your eyes, and count to 35.”

Doey: “Okay, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, ….17…”

Y/N: “ This game is called nap-time.”

Doey fell asleep. Now his sugar rush crash and he was sound again.

You took your camera out and took a picture of the sleeping toys.

Y/N: “These is going in the photo album.”

😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴I hope you all enjoyed this story. If there is an artist reading this story, can you drawing the mini critters, Yarnaby, and Doey sleeping together?

See you next time! <3!

[cutiecusp]

Galentines, a 141 drabble.

Just a little fluff for us girlies, happy Galentines!

.........................

"What's all this for?" John asks, as you put another handful of pink and red in the trolley, smile beaming as you deposit chocolates, decorations, and snacks.

"Its Galentines!" You smile, eyes shining.

"The girls and i get together, bring a dish, and watch rom coms or something together, with a few games and snacks. It's my chance to show the love for my girlfriends this year."

John smiled, seeing his birdie radiating happiness always put him in a good mood.

"So what do you need?" He asks, his Captain brain mentally checking off things on a list.

"I have decorations, and sweets, i just need something for the girls to drink, and then i can go home and set up."

Nodding, John turns the trolley to the drinks aisle.

"Want those fancy straws and cups we had for your birthday?" He asks over his shoulder, smirking at the heart eyes you give him.

"Perfect." You reply, throwing your arms around his middle.

./././././././././././././././

"Babe, the girls are over later, can you pass me the baking tray?" You ask Johnny, who was wolfing down his cereal, staring at his phone.

"Johnny!" You say a little louder, startling him.

"What do you need, hen?" He replies, putting his phone down.

"The baking tray, im making those heart pastries for the girls tonight."

He hands you the tray, a furrow in his brow.

"Have i forgotten something?"

You roll your eyes, lately Johnny had been glued to his phone, so probably didn't even hear you talk about your plans.

"Galentines, the party?" You remind him gently.

A look of recognition passes over him, getting out of the chair, he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck.

"M'sorry lovie. Just had a lot on my mind." He apologises, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"Gotta head out early today, need anything for your party?" He asks. You reply with a shake of your head.

With a quick kiss on your cheek, he heads out the door, waving to you from the car.

"Wonder what has him up so early?" You muse.

Little did you know, he's been planning a valentines surprise, and was waiting on the notification on his phone to say it was ready.

./././././././././././././././././././

"The red ones or the pink ones?" Kyle asks, holding out both pairs of shoes from your closet, trying not to stare at you in your pretty outfit.

"I think the red?" You mull over, taking them both and trying them on, walking around your flat.

You and Kyle had been friends for a really long time, so when the opportunity arose that you needed a flatmate, he was the perfect person to ask. Little did you know, he had feelings for you that you matched with your own.

"R-red's good babe." he admits, watching the way the heels made your legs look longer, he wonders what they would look like wrapped around his hips.

You smile, fiddling with the buckles on the ankles before standing up to your full height, even in heels you came up to Kyles chin.

"You look pretty, where are you and the girls headed tonight?" He asks, focusing his gaze on yours.

"The cocktail bar in town, then i think Harriet wants to go to the strip club, they have a male show on tonight." you reply, a little blush fluttered over your cheeks. You wonder what it would be like to have Kyle dance for you.

"Ah, strippers, cocktails, heels.. bad combo, will you need picking up?" Kyle smiles, a dimple flashing in his cheek.

"You read my mind, if you don't mind waiting up?" You laugh, your eyes shining with mirth.

"Let me know when you need me, and i'll be there." With a deep look, you realise Kyle meant so much more than just tonight.

You lean in, the night now charged with a thick tension.

"Promise?" you murmur, eyes not leaving his.

"Promise." He answers easily, before taking you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

./././././././././././././././

"I miss you." You say into the phone, Your face appearing on Ghost's screen.

"I know, love. But I'm home soon." A gruff voice answers.

"Did you get my flowers?"

You smile, panning the phone back to show him the vase and the matching flowers, a mixture of the darkest tulips and lilies he could find.

"I did, and i love them. Thank you." You beam.

"And you are all ready for the girls thing tonight?" He asks, his voice softening as he relaxes in his chair.

"I am, nice to have the girls over, but-" You pause, not wanting to add the the guilt you knew he was feeling already.

"I know, soon." He finishes your sentence for you.

You hear a commotion on his end, and the call drops suddenly, you send him a text to say you will ring him after the girls leave.

You spend the day prepping food, and making sure the house is clean, along to a playlist of all your favourite alternative love songs.

The party is a success, the girls took your mind off Simon for the night, facemasks, a movie marathon and enough snacks to shake a stick at made you appreciate your girlfriends more.

Shortly after midnight, and the last girl had gone, you heard a key in the door, and there he was.. With a massive smile on his face.

"Told ya it would be soon, love." he mumbles into your hair as you pounce on him, pressing kisses all over his face.

"Happy Valentines."

././././././././././././././.

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-lover-blog @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @skeletonsucker

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: sub!Renjun x Dom!fem!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Pathetic, adorable Renjun (as it should be). Tit sucking. Lots of tit sucking. Jerking him off. Noona kink. Overstimulation.

| wc: 2.5k

| aurora's notes: give me 10 minutes and a strap, i can get him preg--

There weren’t many times when you were out late and Renjun beat you home for the evening. Of course, if you had it your way, he would have been the prettiest house husband on Earth, but he liked to work, and you supported his career as an idol, so you were patient in waiting for the day he would finally leave the spotlight behind in order to let you take care of him. In the meantime, he looked after you. Financially, that was. In most aspects, you actually took care of him, and that was the way you both preferred it because it meant when he came home late after a long day of rehearsals, you could help turn his brain off; so you could understand his disappointment when he came home after a rough day to find that you weren’t there waiting for him like usual. He texted you to ask about your whereabouts, and you replied thirty minutes later that you were stuck at work but you were racing to finish up to see him as soon as possible. Renjun pouted. He had a rough day, all he wanted was you… He even looked so pretty just to seduce you, yet you weren’t there. He huffed and sat on the couch.

When the front door did eventually swing open an hour later, Renjun had already moved to the bedroom to lay down while scrolling on his phone— Still pouting to spite you— so you had to play a short game of hide and seek around the house in search of him. Not on the couch… Not in the kitchen, snacking… Ah, the bedroom.

“Don’t you look handsome,” you cooed from the doorway as you reclined against it with your arms crossed over your chest and a smile creeping on your face.

Renjun wanted to be upset with you. He tried his absolute best to keep staring at his phone and not give into your perfect smile or the way he knew you were ready to ravish him after seeing his outfit of the day. He had a photoshoot during the day, so they did his hair and makeup all pretty, and he asked if he could “borrow” the outfit they put him in since he loved it so much and wanted to take pictures in it before returning it to staff the following day. They obliged. Little did they know that it wasn’t for pictures, it was for you. His long blonde hair was straightened, they put red eyeshadow in the inner corner of his eyes, sparkly red blush on his cheeks; and all of that was to compliment the red silk blouse he was wearing. The V-neck drooped low to show the entirety of his sternum which you loved so much. When he rolled over to “ignore” you, his shirt moved enough for you to see one of his pecs and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you said coolly.

Renjun still didn’t acknowledge you.

“My pouty baby…” You pushed yourself off the doorframe in order to enter the bedroom and approach the bed. The closer you got, the more you earned Renjun’s attention with quick glances out the corner of his eye. “Did you miss noona that much today?”

Renjun readjusted himself to be faced away from you even more as you crawled up beside him.

“Long day?”

He vaguely nodded.

“Rough day?”

He nodded some more.

“Oh, my poor baby.” You took a hold of his shoulders in order to turn him to face you. “Want noona to make it better?”

He kept trying his best not to give in, and you found it admirable to some extent, even when his gaze turned down to your own outfit, something you had changed into in order to impress him and make it up to him when you knew you were going to be late. As if you hadn’t been staring at his chest, of course Renjun looked at the boob window cutout in your shirt, putting on display his favorite things in the entire world: your tits. The thought of ignoring you flew out his head at the same time his phone fell out of his hands so that he could turn himself to face you completely with his cute, pouty eyes— But not because he was upset with you anymore, but because he did indeed need you desperately.

“Noona.” he croaked.

Ah, it was just too easy to get him wrapped around your finger. In a blink of an eye, he was trying to sneak his hands into the boob window so that he could feel you up, and in return, you snuck your hands under his red silk shirt to feel his soft tummy.

“Noon…”

There was barely any time to finish his thought before his lips were on yours. He tried to fight for a little bit of dominance, as if he would ever win that battle, so of course the second you reached up to tug his blonde hair with one hand, he whimpered and surrendered to you, allowing you to take the lead completely. You chuckled against his lips. All that pouting and for what? He just needed some attention, which you were more than happy to give him when he was all dolled up for you— Well, you would always spoil him regardless, but the fact that he looked so cute and luxurious, and like the type of house husband you wanted him to be, how could you ever say no to that?

In order to get both of you more comfortable so as to take care of him properly, you began adjusting him slightly. Still kissing, you brought him onto your lap. He laid down, his back resting on your thighs, his legs tucked up a bit so he could try to keep your hand on him as it was glued to his stomach under his shirt. You weren’t going to go anywhere. You were happy as you were, rubbing his tummy, moaning into his mouth, and letting him tug at your shirt. He wanted you to pull it off so he could see more— So he could feel more. Of course you obliged by pulling away from your kiss to give yourself enough room to remove your shirt. Renjun squirmed on your lap. He was already getting hard, and with his legs tucked up, it was easy for him to rub his thighs together to create enough pressure and friction to help relieve some of his neediness.

“Let me help you out, baby.”

You pushed his knees down semi-roughly. Renjun looked up at you with those adorable big eyes of his as you undid his black silk pants expertly with just one hand.

“Noona,” his gaze trailed back down to your chest, “can I?”

“Can you what, baby? Use your big boy words.”

He whimpered quietly upon hearing you say that. “Can I… Can I suck on them?”

With a proud snicker, you nodded before removing your bra with the same expertise that you used to undo his pants. “Are you gonna be a good boy now or are you gonna keep pouting?”

“I’ll be good, noona, I promise!”

You believed him. So as your bra slid off your shoulders, you didn’t protest when he immediately leaned in to latch onto your left nipple, his eyes slowly falling shut in euphoria as he let out a moan simultaneously. You threw your head back against the headboard. His mouth was so wet and warm… and his tongue felt so good while swirling around the bud… And when he sucked, you felt your head spin.

“Just like that, sweet boy.”

And to reward him, your efforts in opening his pants became of use when you snuck your hand under the waistband of said pants as well as his underwear in order to wrap your hand around his shaft. His hips jolted upright with a muffled moan of complaint.

“Are my hands cold, baby?”

He nodded against your breast.

“Warm it up for me.”

He moaned happily at the thought, no more protests erupting from him when you began stroking him slowly so as to encourage him to keep sucking on your nipple. Poor thing was always so needy for you. He could pretend otherwise as much as he wanted, but his body would inevitably tell you the truth, which was that he needed you every second of every day. The more you did things like this to him, the more he genuinely considered the thought of leaving the spotlight behind just to stay at home for you. He could imagine it perfectly in that moment as he switched to your other nipple. Him waking up to eat you out before you had to get ready for work. Him making breakfast for you as you showered to wash away the scent of sex. Him seeing you off to work before spending his day cleaning, walking around the city aimlessly, lounging around the house thinking about what he would do next to impress you. And his favorite part— The thought that got him so horny he bucked up into your hand again— was the idea of you coming home every single day just to lay on top of him and fuck him. Every single day. Without fail. Kissing him as you would ask about his day, jerking him off as you asked where he wanted to go on vacation next, sliding your strap into him as you asked if he really, truly, deeply loved you. He did. He did! More than anything in the whole world, he loved you so much that it made him go crazy.

“No, no, you can’t be close yet,” you warned him as your hand slowed.

Renjun pulled off your chest for a moment to argue, “I wasn’t!”

“I know you better than that.” Your free hand went back to his hair and you wrapped your grip in it so that you could tug just enough to prove you were still in charge before guiding his mouth back to you. “You have a tell, baby. When you get close, you start panting and your hips roll left to right instead of up and down, and your nose starts bouncing like a bunny’s.”

He immediately went to hide his nose from you, but you smacked his hands away.

“I want to see my pretty boy.”

When you went back to jerking him off fast, you released his hair in order to play with his silk shirt again, your palm running over his clothed stomach which was perhaps one of the most sensitive parts of his body, and like a cat, he only allowed people he really trusted to touch it. You specifically had unrestricted access to it. Whenever you wanted, you could simply pet his stomach while cuddling or whenever he had a stomach ache or even when he was on the verge of cumming and just couldn’t hold back anymore.

“P-please,” he begged against your nipple.

“Not yet.”

He turned his body into yours in an attempt to get your hand to slip off his cock so that he could have a moment to catch his breath, but he wouldn’t be able to escape you that easily. If he wanted to get all dolled up then pout at you, he could withstand having you torture him for a few minutes. Your thumb swiped over his sensitive tip which was leaking pre-cum against his silk pants and your hand. At first, he jolted again in response to the sudden surprise of overwhelming pleasure, but the second time you went for it, Rejun tried his absolute best to prevent himself from giving you the satisfaction of another pathetic reaction. He sucked harder on your nipple to keep himself from moaning. That just wouldn’t do. So you continued to bully his tip with your palm.

“W-wait—”

He lurched forward to curl himself up into a ball, but your movements didn’t waver. Through his mouth which was still loosely latched onto you, he panted to bear the torture, but it wasn’t enough, so he flicked your nipple with his tongue and used one of his hands to pinch the other. It felt good… Really good… But what was more entertaining to you was the way he was squirming and whining so pathetically you thought there was no way you’d ever be able to let him leave the bedroom again, not when you needed him all to yourself.

Renjun whimpered with his eyes closed. “Please, noona, I’ve been good.”

“I know, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for noona, but I just want to have a little bit of fun, okay? I’ll let you cum soon.”

The ‘good boy’ comment had Renjun spiraling even further into subspace than he already was. Good boy. He wanted to be your good boy. Only your’s. No one else’s. He wanted to spend the rest of his life curled up on your lap, playing with your tits, begging to cum because he knew how much you enjoyed babying him and seeing him so desperate for you. He liked giving you his full attention and handing over every ounce of control he had. For that, you could show some mercy.

Holding the back of his head with your fingers laced through his soft blonde hair, you made sure he held steady as you quickened your pace jerking him off to the point your arm felt sore, yet you couldn’t will yourself to slow down for a moment to rest because Renjun was on the brink. He was gasping your wrist desperately with one of his hands like he had a chance to convince you to keep going. You looked down at how pretty he was in that outfit of his with his eyes still closed and your nipple in his mouth. His cock twitched in your hand suddenly. The desperate thrusts in the air began swaying side to side, his breath was hot against your skin as he panted, his grip on your wrist and his fingers pinching your other nipple all tightened, and his nose began bouncing like a bunny’s.

“Cum for me.”

Renjun moaned against you as he did just that. His cum came out in pent-up spurts which stained your hand and his silk pants, but that didn’t deter you from helping him ride out his high. Even then, once you knew he was done by slumping on your lap and trying to release your nipples, you continued to play with him. Renjun squirmed some more. He tried to escape you again. How had he not learned yet that it was futile when you had him there in your arms with his cock still pulsing with desire.

“You think you can do one more?”

Renjun shook his head and stuttered, “Please, noona, please, it’s too much, I can’t—”

“Try for me, my good boy.”

He started nodding within an instant with little spirals in the reflections of his eyes. Yes, noona. Anything you say, noona. Still, it was too much for him, but instead of protesting it all, he tried to be on his best behavior for you by switching nipples again. You looked down to see you were red and swollen— You’d probably be sore in the morning. But you would rather be sore after having him suck on your tits all night than have them go neglected for so long.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, combing your fingers through his hair.

The whines continued with a quiet, “Too much,” being mumbled against your chest every few seconds.

When the dwindling remnants of his orgasm faded and the euphoria of being overstimulated passed, you were quick to notice and finally give him the relief he asked for. As your hand slid off his wet cock, Renjun slumped again, this time permanently. Your grip in his hair guided him off your tits and up to your lips so you could swallow the last of his moans he had to give before he would eventually fall asleep in your lap. 

Your lips lingered against his as you asked him, “Do you feel better?” As he nodded, you chuckled slightly. “Still mad at me?” He shook his head and you ran your fingers through his hair one more time, easing the tension on his scalp. “Good boy.”

Renjun leaned up to kiss you again. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

He wanted to plead with you to never be late again because he didn’t know how to live without you— But he stopped himself short because if the two of you could make a habit of this reward whenever you were late, Renjun could somewhat tolerate it. For you.

taglist: @luverboyhyuck , @jsbluu , @junrenjun , @ant-onie

@faeryus , @aeriwave , @shoetaroshoe , @jimintrain , @jaeminnanaaa17

@goodiegoddesselle , @armaegddn , @xomakara , @rizz798 , @meowniee

@babuis , @henderysposts , @trash-number-one , @mystverse , @zierose-freak

@itskpopular , @maguisilla , @feelsrosegold , @lwrkpoppy , @nenie223

@narcisstict ,

[nanamineedstherapy]

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Summary: It was supposed to be a normal frat party. Just a stupid game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Just him, king of never taking anything seriously, getting shoved into a closet for a dumb dare. And yet. Now, he can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t stop thinking about you. And one by one, his friends are starting to realize—Whatever happened in that closet? It never really ended. Warnings: Frat House Buffoonery™ Characters Being Absolutely Oblivious Until It's Too Late Unexplained Boners (Yes, It Needs a Warning)

You sat cross-legged on the floor, watching the empty bottle spin. It twirled and twirled, catching the dim glow of fairy lights as it whirred against the wood. The room smelled of cheap liquor, stale perfume, and the faint, acrid trace of someone’s recently smoked cigarette. Laughter and hushed whispers filled the air, but your world had narrowed to this single moment.

You wished it would slow down.

You wished it would stop.

And then—it did.

Pointing directly at him.

Your stomach dropped.

Your heart skipped a beat when his eyes seemed to bore into your soul, the dim light of the room amplifying the intensity of their sparkle. You felt like a small, insignificant thing, lost in the vastness of his attention.

The cheers that erupted around you felt distant, like you were hearing them through water. Someone clapped you on the back, and before you could fully process what was happening, hands were shoving you forward. Your heels skidded against the floor. The closet door swung open.

Then—darkness.

The door clicked shut behind you, sealing you in a space so small it felt like the walls were pressing against your back. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and forgotten dust, and somewhere in the darkness, he shifted.

You strained to hear the sounds of the room, but it was as if the world had narrowed to a single, fragile thread—the sound of your own ragged breathing.

Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, until his voice—gentle, smooth, husky and entirely too amused—broke through it. "So... only seven minutes?"

A shiver ran down your spine.

You swallowed hard, pressing your back against the wall, desperate for something solid. "Oh God," you whispered.

His low chuckle was warm, rich—dangerous in a way you couldn’t quite place. “Oh God...? That’s the first thing you say to me? Not gonna lie, kinda hurts my feelings.”

Your fingers twitched at your sides. You forced a laugh—nervous, brittle, barely a sound. "I should leave," you stammered, the words rushing out too fast.

He tilted his head, smirk evident even in the dim light. "Leave? Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?"

Your hand shot out, scrambling for the doorknob.

It rattled.

Didn’t turn.

Locked.

You barely held back a whimper. "God, nooo."

He let out a sharp, genuine laugh, the kind that made his shoulders shake. “Hey… relax. Why’re you panicking so damn much?” His voice was softer now, teasing but not unkind.

You opened your mouth, but your brain short-circuited and your tongue betrayed you. "Why are you so cute and tall?"

Silence.

Then, his laughter deepened—low, honey-warm, curling around you like smoke. You felt it more than heard it, the way it filled the tiny space, and seeped under your skin. He took a slow step forward, his presence swallowing the remaining inches between you. The scent of his cologne—clean, a little sharp, like cedar and something fresh—hit you like a second wave of intoxication.

"You think I’m cute?" His voice was laced with amusement, eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Oh my… and you’re the one panicking right now."

“I’m not,” you blurted out, even as your pulse betrayed you.

He clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment. “Not panicking? You tried to run, like, three seconds ago. Plus—” his gaze flicked down “—look how shaky your hands are.”

You looked down, and they were.

“Because…” Your voice came out barely above a whisper. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

His smirk faltered.

Just for a second.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before he schooled his expression back into that effortless confidence. But you saw it. The pause. The way his breath hitched, the way he went completely still.

He knew he was handsome. Knew people stared when he walked into a room. But beautiful? No one ever called him that.

“…You sure you aren’t blind?” he murmured, voice quieter than before.

You shook your head. “No. It’s true.”

His throat bobbed, and for a second, you thought he might look away. Instead, he took another step closer—so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him, the barely-there brush of his sleeve against yours.

“…That’s an exaggeration,” he muttered.

But the pink dusting his ears said otherwise.

You nervously started cracking your knuckles.

Your fingers twitched, nerves unraveling one by one.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

The soft pop of your knuckles breaking the silence made you wince, but before you could shove your hands behind your back, his fingers wrapped gently around yours.

Warm. Steady. Confident.

He lifted your hand between the two of you, inspecting it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "You a little nervous, huh?"

“Yes...” You kept your gaze anywhere but on him.

That was a mistake.

Because the next thing you knew, his fingers ghosted over your chin, tilting your face up—effortless, like he had all the time in the world to make you look at him.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“Noo.” Your breath hitched. He was too close.

Your first instinct was to wriggle away, but his touch—light yet firm—kept you in place.

Not trapping. Not forcing.

Just holding you there, as if he knew you were already melting under his attention.

“Now you’re trying to get away from me?” His smirk deepened, amused. He was already enjoying this way too much. “Don’t like me having a hold on you?”

The way he said it sent something sharp and warm through your spine.

“Come on, look at me.”

The words weren’t a command. But they slithered into your veins like one.

So you did.

And immediately regretted it.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared into his eyes—striking, consuming, too much. Your brain fully short-circuited, leaving you scrambling for words. Any words.

“…Ahhh, your eyes are like… hypnotizing, bro.” Your voice cracked. “Like biblically accurate angels saying ‘be not afraid.’”

For a moment, there was a pause.

Then he threw his head back, laughing. A real laugh, rich and easy, like you’d just said the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

“That’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

You dropped your gaze, mortified. “Well, it wasn’t supposed to be one, but sure.”

His laughter softened, settling into something quieter, something heavier. The tiny space between you shrank, and you felt yourself retreating—only to realize there was nowhere left to go.

His fingers slid away from your chin, trailing down, featherlight, until they rested on your waist.

Testing.

The touch barely there.

You sucked in a breath.

“You’re cute when you’re all flustered.” His voice dipped lower, sending a shiver through you. “Am I making you nervous, princess?”

Your stomach flipped. “Princess?” The word slipped out before you could stop it.

His smirk deepened. “Yeah… you’re all cute and shy, like a little princess.” His fingers flexed slightly, pulling you closer.

You were losing to him. And you were losing badly.

He chuckled at your reaction, watching as your cheeks continued to flush a deep shade of red. “Yeah… you’re all cute and flustered. Like a little princess.” He smirked, his hand on your waist slowly pulling you closer.

A warmth spread up your neck, filling your face.

Before you could think—before you could second-guess yourself—you acted on impulse.

You leaned up, fast, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his lips.

And then immediately tried to flee.

Big mistake.

His arm was tighter around your waist before you could so much as turn, pulling you flush against him in one smooth, effortless motion. The sudden heat of his body against yours sent your brain into a full-blown shutdown.

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” His voice purred against your ear.

You stiffened. “Home.”

He chuckled, the sound curling around you, sinking into your skin. “Now, now… you can’t just steal my first kiss and run away.” His grip didn’t tighten, but it didn’t loosen either. “Besides… what do we have left?” He looked at his expensive watch. “Five minutes?”

“Oh…” You swallowed hard, heartbeat pounding in your ears. “…So now what?”

He tilted his head, feigning deep thought before his smirk curled into something lazier. Something dangerous.

“Now? Well…” His hand on your waist barely moved, but you felt the shift—how deliberate, how controlled every inch of his touch was. “Since you’re stuck here with me, how about we have a little fun?”

You were done for.

“Wh—” You cleared your throat. “I mean, like, what?”

His grip didn’t change, but his presence alone felt suffocating.

Too much heat. Too much confidence.

He leaned in closer, lips hovering just above your temple. “Oh, nothing too crazy... but I have a few ideas.”

Your hands flew up, landing on his chest in a desperate attempt to do something—only for your fingers to betray you by gripping his shirt, balling the fabric into your fists like it was the only thing keeping you from combusting on the spot.

He noticed.

Oh, he noticed.

“Someone’s holding on pretty tight, huh, princess?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Yes, because you are like a beautiful eldritch horror. I can’t look away.”

His chuckle was deep, vibrating against your skin. “A beautiful eldritch horror?” He hummed, tilting his head. “And you say you can’t look away… I’m surprised you’re not terrified of me, then.”

“I am.”

That made him pause.

His hand lifted once more, fingers tilting your chin up again—gentler this time, slower, as if savoring the motion. His gaze burned into you.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t run, princess.” His voice was softer, lower. “I quite like having you in my arms like this.”

Your breath was uneven. Your pulse was a mess. And before you could let yourself think, before you could stop yourself—

You wrapped your arms around his neck, cutting him off with a kiss.

For a split second, he stilled.

Your lips against his.

His breath caught.

Then, like a wave crashing against the shore, he melted into you.

A slow, devastating surrender.

His hands slid to your hips, fingers pressing with something dangerously close to possession. He pulled you in—closer, closer—until there was no space left between you, until you could feel every inch of him against you. His lips moved against yours, slow and teasing, yet demanding all at once. Spearmint. Heat. A smirk ghosting against your mouth, like he was already savoring the way you trembled under his touch.

His left hand moved and he tilted your head—his fingers slipping into your hair, guiding you like he had all the time in the world to kiss you exactly the way he wanted.

The way he needed.

The heat of him was everywhere—his chest pressing into yours, his thigh slotted between your legs, the faint tremor of his breath against your skin.

You smiled into the kiss, fingers threading into his snowy-white hair—too soft, too unfair—and he let out the smallest, pleased hum in response. The sound vibrated against your lips, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

His touch was a paradox—gentle yet commanding, teasing yet desperate. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize you, like he could drown in the heat of your body pressed against his. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue, sent another rush of warmth pooling in your stomach. You could feel the intensity of him in the way his hands explored you, in the way his breath hitched when you tugged lightly at the strands of his hair.

That did something to him.

Because the second your fingers threaded through his hair again, he kissed you harder, deeper—like he was losing control. Like he wanted to lose control.

His grip on your hip slid lower, fingers grazing the curve of your thigh before hooking under it and hitching it around his waist, pulling you flush against him. The movement sent a dizzying shockwave through you—the friction, the pressure, the overwhelming heat of his body pushing you against the door, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

He wasn’t just kissing you—he was claiming you.

And god, you were more than willing to let him.

You smiled against his lips, dazed and breathless.

That was his undoing.

A low, deep groan rumbled from his chest. His fingers curled tighter, his arm locking around you, his grip at your waist firm yet careful—like he wanted to devour you but still didn’t want to break you.

Your warmth. Your scent. The way you melted into him.

It was intoxicating. Maddening.

His heartbeat pounded in sync with yours, the weight of his desire pressing against you, sending another pulse of heat straight to your core.

And still, he didn’t let go.

Couldn’t let go.

Wouldn’t let go.

And then—

You did.

Vanished.

Like you were never there.

He stumbled forward, arms suddenly empty. His breath hitched, chest still heaving.

“What the f—” His voice died in his throat as he whipped around. Had you run away in the dark? That was impossible. The door had been locked.

The closet door slammed open, harsh overhead light flooding in.

And that’s when they saw it.

Gojo Satoru. Standing alone in a musty closet. Flushed. Panting. Sporting a full-on, undeniable, raging fucking boner.

Suguru was the first to react, stepping into the doorway with the kind of deadpan horror reserved for witnessing a catastrophic natural disaster. His gaze flickered from Satoru’s messy hair to his swollen lips, then down to the obvious problem pressing against his jeans.

"Jesus Christ, man." Suguru's face twisted in disgust. "Tell me you were at least jerking off and not—"

"NO! What the fuck?!" Satoru nearly tripped over his own feet as he scrambled out of the closet, hands thrown up defensively.

Behind Suguru, the rest of the frat house was in disarray. Red Solo cups were strewn across the floor, someone was passed out mid-handstand on the couch, and Kashimo was crouched over a half-eaten pizza like a feral raccoon.

Suguru’s brows furrowed. "Dude, I told you not to party with Fine Arts hippies. They always slip you something weird."

“I took nothing.” Satoru semi-yelled.

"Kento, how much did Satoru drink?” Suguru asked aloud, not trusting him.

Kento came up behind Suguru, looking already done with this conversation. "He didn’t drink anything when he was with me, then I left for five minutes to put Haibara’s lightweight ass to sleep, and he ran off."

"You were taking forever," Satoru shot back, still breathless.

"Haibara threw up on me," Kento deadpanned. "I’d rather not walk around campus smelling like his five-day-old burger lunch."

"That’s valid," Toji affirmed, lazily leaning against the hallway door, tossing a peanut into his mouth. "Pukeboy's been living on McDonald’s and spite."

Kento approached closer, rubbing his temples with the exasperation of a man who had seen far too much in his short life. "How much did he drink?" he asked, already regretting it.

Suguru dragged a still-stunned Satoru forward. "He claims he didn't drink at all."

Kento stared at Satoru, then at the situation going on in his pants. Then back at his face. Then back down. Then back up.

Finally, he cracked open a fresh beer from his hoodie pocket and started chugging it while turning the fuck back around.

"Okay, hold on—" Suguru cut in before the inevitable drunk fighting started. "Satoru. Who the hell were you kissing?"

Satoru blinked, still half-dazed. "What? What do you mean? Her." He turned, gesturing back toward the closet.

Silence.

A long, loaded silence.

The group collectively paled.

"Satoru," Shoko said, suddenly way too serious as she stepped forward and pulled the closet door open wider. "There was no one in there. And no one left besides you."

His stomach dropped.

His skin still tingled where your hands had been. His shirt still smelled of your vintage perfume. His lips were still warm from your kiss.

“What did you smoke, man? Better yet, tell me your plug,” Sukuna called from the couch, not even looking up as he flicked his lighter absentmindedly.

"Nothing! I haven’t even had a sip of beer!" Satoru snapped.

“It’s okay, dude. We won’t snitch.” Kashimo snickered, passing the blunt to Sukuna.

"Stop messing with me," Satoru scoffed, but his voice wavered.

Suguru and Kento exchanged a look.

A very specific look.

It was Choso who finally broke the silence, rubbing the back of his neck as he reached for the blunt. "...You do know the story about that closet, right?"

Satoru deadpanned. "What story?"

Yuki let out a slow breath, passing the whiskey to Shoko, uncharacteristically serious. "The girl. The one who got locked in there."

A strange, ancient wrongness settled in his gut.

Hiromi sighed, exhaling smoke from the blunt he had taken from Choso. "No one found her in time."

The air shifted.

The music from the other room seemed quieter now, the hum of the house pressing down on them like a weight.

Satoru’s breath hitched.

His pulse pounded in his ears.

"It’s just a lame story to scare freshmen," he said, more to himself than anyone else.

“This is giving me a bad trip; let’s go somewhere else,” Sukuna muttered, getting up from the couch.

Sukuna wasn’t the type to get spooked—not even when he was piss drunk.

He didn’t seem scared now, but if he was avoiding this place, then maybe... just maybe... the stories were true.

"It’s just a story," Satoru muttered again.

"It's not," Haibara called weakly from the couch, still half-conscious but somehow invested. "She’s been seen before. But never like this."

Shiu grabbed a beer. "Man, I hate this place."

Suguru hesitated. "...Satoru, she’s not—"

Satoru’s throat closed.

He turned back toward the closet.

At the empty space where you had been.

Where your warmth had been.

Where your hands had trembled in his.

It seemed impossible—your touch, your breath, your mouth on his—it all felt too real.

And yet…

A deep, aching sadness settled in his bones.

And then—

He smiled.

Soft. Almost wistful.

"Well," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

"At least she thought I was beautiful."

The rest of them were too scared to grimace as they dragged his stupid ass out of the house.

A/N: Well. That happened. Got the idea when my mom told me to clean my own closet. Like I'm an adult mom, chill it's just PTSD ruining my life. Not me!

All Works Masterlist

This story is already written & will be 3 chapters total and I'll post the next part tomorrow.

Next Chapter 2 - (Tumblr/Ao3)

[gotta-winwin]

svt x what could've beens 💌

have you ever stayed up so late your mind started to wander? as you flipped through your mind and thought about everything that could've been, all the people you could've had. well, does this cupid have a story for you!

follow cupid of valentine day's past to discover all the things that could've been...[heartbreak almost guaranteed]

divider credits: @sisterlucifergraphics

(💌) Choi Seungcheol

At twelve years old on the playground, you traded plastic wedding rings with Choi Seungcheol, the boy who sat in front of you in class. He slid the ring onto your ring finger, a teasing smile across his face. 

“You have to say the vows.” Soonyoung nudges him.

“I, Choi Seungcheol, take you, Y/N L/N, to be my unlawfully wedded wife.” His nose scrunches as he looks to Soonyoung for his next lines. “Was that right?”

Later, Seungcheol gently breaks apart his orange to share with you. “Let’s get married for real. When we’re 30.” 

You kiss his cheek in a silent agreement. 

Choi Seungcheol gets married at 27 with you sitting on the groom’s side, wondering why it wasn’t you standing next to him.

(💌) Yoon Jeonghan

It shook your fragile heart each time your daughter came home singing Mr. Yoon’s praises. 

“I wish Mr. Yoon was my father.” 

Your heart snaps in two at her words. You could never explain to her how close he had been to that title-- how a lifetime of bad decisions had wound the two of you suffering apart. 

“I know, sweetheart.” Is all you say, as you hand her off to Jeonghan, who smiles kindly your way. 

It’s a polite smile with nothing behind it, the kind you give to passing strangers. 

(💌) Hong Jisoo

You know it wasn’t his fault. Life had strange ways of pulling people apart. It pulled you to your dream university and it had told Joshua to stay.

The universe has to cooperate as well, and in Joshua’s case, it did not. 

“Maybe one day you’ll come back.” He says, and his voice is hopeful. “We can try again.”

“Yeah.”

You leave him behind the airport gates, his eyes crinkling into a smile only you could tell was forced. 

You both knew you wouldn’t be back. 

(💌) Wen Junhui

You’ve been trying to study for the last hour or so but the sound effects coming from Jun’s phone were distracting you. 

“Ahem.” 

He looks up at the sound, his thumbs hovering over his phone screen as he pauses the mobile game he had been playing. “What?”

“Keep it down. I’m trying to study.” 

“Oh.” 

There’s a whole empty cafe for him to choose a place to sit, yet he sits right next to you, elbows bumping into yours as he lounges, occasionally shooting you a look. You see him everyday. You memorize each divot and mole on his face. But that’s it. That’s it.

(💌) Kwon Soonyoung

You spot the tiger jellycat you needed for your nephew sitting on the highest shelf. 

“Move, little lady.” A ball of energy zooms past you and grabs it before you can. “The tiger plush is mine.” 

“Hey!” 

You turn to confront the man who had just stolen the jellycat right out from under you, your words sputtering to a stop when you see his face. Oh fuck he was good looking. 

“Sorry, lady.” He shrugs unapologetically. “I need it.”

“It’s for my nephew.” 

“Well that sucks. This is for me.” 

“Please let me have it.” 

“No.”

(he ends up letting you have it anyways) 

(💌) Jeon Wonwoo

It’s not your fault he looks good pushing up his glasses in between class time. It’s neither here nor there, the way his fingers look handing out your class papers, how his voice melts into your ear canal everytime he explains a question. 

He pretends to not know the meaning behind your stares.

“Eyes on your worksheet, Y/N.” He raps his knuckles against your desk. 

“Right.”

You pretend not to notice how he leaves the classroom with flowers on Valentines Day.

(💌) Lee Jihoon

You first meet Jihoon when he saves you from getting crushed by a dumbbell.

“Thanks.” 

He shoots you a noncommittal grunt. 

“What’s your name?” 

Maybe it was your cheerful tone or infectious smile that made Jihoon take off his airpods, muttering his name before telling you to be more careful.

“I won’t always be around to stop you from getting crushed.” 

But he does end up always being around. You take turns spotting one another, inviting each other for drinks after a particularly long day.  I love you, you want to say. But you hear him introduce you to his friends as his favourite gym bro and the words swallow themselves back down.

(💌) Lee Seokmin

You were sure you had seen much hotter men somewhere, but you really couldn’t remember when. 

Seokmin’s in the middle of another terrible joke, barbecue sauce on his bottom lip and his eyes glassy from all the booze. 

“Y/N!” He waves you over, patting the seat next to him in a warm welcome. His hand rests on your knee in the most relaxed way-- as if the two of you had known each other for decades. “Let me tell you something.” His face splits into a crazy grin when you nod. 

You see Seokmin less than two times a year for neighbourhood functions, both at your worst and neither one trying to impress the other. Yet you still fall a little bit in love with him each time.

(💌) Kim Mingyu

Mingyu knows your favourite color, how you like to tie your hair, your allergies, how you had tried piercing your own ears and then lied about it to your parents. He knows everything about you, down to the most embarrassing secrets.

Yet the first thing he tells people when they mention your name is that you barely know each other. 

After all, time rips people apart and Mingyu had spent enough time loving you to know you were never going to love him back.

Except for the fact that you did love him, many years ago, when he had been in the middle of his ‘playing the field’ phase. 

It was an unspoken thing sitting in between your friendship that eventually grew too big to work around. 

(💌) Xu Minghao

By the time you position your phone against the brick wall and start filming your tiktok, it’s already noon. 

You pose for the camera, taking a sip of your iced coffee while turning around, showing off your meticulously put together outfit. You feel good, confident even, as you move back to grab your phone.

“Cute.” 

You whip your head around to catch whoever had said that. You see the back of his head, his long coat and scarf billowing past him in the wind. You don’t need to see the rest of him to know he’s a catch. 

“Wait!” 

You rush up to catch up with him, your eyes skimming the crowded sidewalk for a face you had only seen once yet you knew you would remember forever. You don’t see him.

“Must have been the wind, I guess.” 

(💌) Boo Seungkwan

“I’ve always thought the book was a bit too gay for my taste.”

You snort at the statement before you even look up. “You thought The Picture of Dorian Gray was too gay?”

“Yeah, you didn’t? The entire time I was reading it I just wanted to throttle Basil and tell him to kiss Dorian already. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so…” The boy pauses. “Demonic.” 

You laugh, and the sound rings clear. “You’re funny.”

“I know. It’s one of my best traits.”

You laugh again, covering your mouth with your hand as you watch him smile, pleased at your reactions. 

“I’m Seungkwan.” 

His bus rolls up far too quickly, as he gives you a little wave before boarding. “Throttle Basil for me.” He points at the book in your hand. 

“I will.”

(💌) Vernon Chwe

He’s like a vampire, or a poorly timed ghost. 

You see Vernon on Tuesdays past midnight, a backwards cap on his head and a skateboard tucked underneath his arm. 

He never says anything, yet he’ll wordlessly hand you a 7-Eleven slushy whenever he arrives, mixed with flavours he knows you love. 

You don’t even skate, yet he never asks why you’re always there, sitting on the concrete with your legs hanging off the side of the ramp, eyes trailing him as he practices. 

A part of you doesn’t even think he’s really real. 

He leaves like he arrives, without sound or notice. One Tuesday he’s there and the other he’s not. You go to the skatepark still, despite how deserted it is without him. 

You don’t ever see him again. Maybe he is a vampire or a poorly timed ghost. 

(💌) Lee Chan

You tell yourself he’s the annoying brother you’ve never had (or wanted), yet you still find yourself actively searching for him whenever it’s time to make groups. 

You ignore the way your heart skips a beat when he wraps your jacket around your waist, tying it up before sprinting away, yelling behind him for you to race. 

You hate how he makes you laugh so easily, how he chases you with little bugs he finds on your nature walks, how focused he looks when he cleans up your various scratches and scrapes. 

But most of all, you hate how you only see him once every year, when the summer heat is the worst and your families meet up for camp. 

You hate how he tells you he loves you because you know he only means that he loves you now: in this bubble, untouched by the real world. 

You hate how he forgets about you the moment summer is over. 

vote for your favourite what could've been and cupid of valentine past will present to you the full story: (i know i forgot mingyu but it’s too late to change so he’ll get his own full fic + whoever wins this poll😀)

[bbybhr]

"A fighter" sevika x fem reader angst

Summary: If there was a soul mate for everyone, sevika would think "and was sure" there's none for her. people,they are connected by their scars their pain and how they could heal one another. People see the broken pieces and offer what they have in exchange for what they want and sevika had nothing to give and plenty to get. she was so broken that the scars on the surface, were the surface. and one should reach out too deep to find a sign of her and only than to try healing her. and sevika wouldn't be that cruel to anybody. that was until you came along and sevika found herself for the very first time...wishing for something selfish...something entirely hers

Sevika is a fighter. not that she likes it or she gets off on it but she is one simply because there's the need for it. she needs to be one, silco needs her to be one, the nation of zaun and all of the people of undercity, needs her to be one...so she became one...and to hold that title she is required to be tough, to man up and forget her weakness...to avoid weaknesses and lately you're becoming one.

she needs to keep her distance from you and she was telling herself that from the day she met you. But somewhere along this mission she failed. somewhere between the beautiful smile you gave her everytime you saw her and the sweet little voice of yours telling her "good morning sev" every morning. Somewhere in the way your beautiful eyes shine everytime she talks to you and somewhere when she felt that tingling feeling inside of her heart after seeing you.

And frankly she thought she could do it. She thought whenever she absolutely had to, she can just cut you off for the greater good. That's what being in the top of the chain of power requires, so she would do it. I mean how hard could it be, she could just forget about all of that there was and get on with her life, with the plan big enough to save thousands of lives... at least she tells herself that before thinking of you and drifting off to sleep.

Why she doesn't do it now?she just simply wants another taste...everytime she tells herself that. she only need one more good morning, one more worried look whenever she shows up beaten, one more time of having you clinging by her side when she's fixing her arm, one more time seeing you looking at her with awe when she wins in card games.

And every time she repeated that sentence that "just one more time and I'm done" it's a fucking lie. she's becoming addicted to you and everyone can see it except herself.

Everyone knows they're not to mess with you and it's showing on their attitude towards you. creep wouldn't dare to look at you in a bad way and the meanest people who won't give a damn about anything bite their tongue before anything bad about you leave their lips because they know better to mess with sevika and getting their shit rearranged.

And that was what encouraged you to take the first step and ask her to have a dinner with you at your place. Because although sevika seemed interested enough for someone like her more than enough you knew she wouldn't take the first step or at least she wouldn't use her words for it, so you would get stuck in between a lot of nothings. So you asked her...

And when you did so your heart was in your throat, you could feel the coldness and numbness creeping up your fingers and toes as you played with the hem of your clothing. daring to only take one breath per second.

Sevika on the other hand was stunned. what did she do to make it to this second, standing infront of you, noticing how you were more dolled up compere to the other times and how you were trying to distract yourself from her gaze and avoiding it with all your might and even though it was just a few seconds, she felt like she's missing it...she's missing how your pupils dilated at the sight of her and how your eyes would tremble everytime it was forced to hold her gaze more than mere seconds.

"Sure why not"

She was fucked...not because she said yes...because she didn't even thought of saying no and it would only become harder and harder with every and each passing day. knowing you was both a blessing and a curse because the more she got to know about you she fell more onto the depth of loving you more.

Everytime she got to wrap her hands around you when you were sleep, easily pulling you in her embrace. breathing at the nape of your neck welcoming the most beautiful dreams that she never had she would fell lower.

When she would wake up seeing your messy hair tickling on her neck and chest while sun shining on them made them a little bit lighter she would fell lower and lower.

When she kissed that very kissable lips of yours taking in your lipstick from them and painting them with a flushed redder look that she adored so much she would fell lower and lower and lower.

And when she would make your face blushed make your body get cover in a thin sheet of sweat, quivering underneath her with sweet sweet moan skipping you lips, calling her oh so beautifully she would fell lower and lower and lower to the bottom of that pit.

And than she hit the ground.

When silco warned her about how she was growing too clumsy too much eager to get back home before getting the job done. how she's losing the sense of survival, how she's failing as a fighter a warrior.

And it hit her, the bottom of that pit the end of the days she was living for herself...

She came home that night,trashed, wasted. stumbling on her feet, eyes seeing two for one and stomach burning with dread and alcohol, struggling so long to put the keys in the keyhole that you heard and opened it at last...when she thought of that she was glad that it was you that came to the door that night opening the door her for the last time...she had plenty of time to open that door by herself to an once again empty house.

"Sevika... are you okay? what happened?"

You called her and her ears despite her drunken mind picked up on the sound, devouring everything you gave, every call you create. placing them in the back of her mind, safe from the chaos.

"Get out"

She rasped out as she stepped in, voice hoarse from all the unnecessary yelling and cussing and drinking. she quickly get done with that, ripping of the bandage like she always does. she didn't spare you a look as she made her way to the kitchen grabbing another bottle.

"What do you mean?"

You were shocked to say the least not knowing it's just drunk talking or she's fucking serious right now you. frown in shock a rare sight.

"Do I have to repeat it now"

She said with a calmness in her tone that was far away from the mess unfolding within her. she slammed the bottle down on the counter, turning to look at you with her gray eyes, drowned in emotions so much you couldn't even see anything in them.

"Get out of my life"

She continued, taking an step forward.

"Get all of your bubbly shit all the hope you're trying to put on me all your sickening love and get the fuck out"

You looked up, wide eye feeling like someone dumped hot boiling fucking water all over you your lips moved without any sound coming from it.

"What...what do you mean...where is it coming from...did I do something?I swear to god I didn't"

You sound...desperate voice shaking and body trembling. you could feel the coldness creeping up to your fingers you could feel your heartbeat in your throat but you weren't playing with the hem of your clothes anymore, only thing playing was time with the both of you.

"Stop it"

She cut your voice

"I'm tired of it...I'm tired of you taking my life trying to fix things that I built under pressures that you have no fucking clue about...get out I'm done playing this game"

You didn't know how you left how you put everything you could in a bag sobbing as you close the door fat tears coming down your cheeks sevika didn't know how she could bare the sound of your cries that night and you didn't know how you're going to live from now on...and so did sevika.

[indycinders]

Love and Valentine's :: LADS Headcanons

I've been feeling icky today so I decided to make fluffy, SFW headcanons for each boy and how they'd spend Valentine's Day with you (❁´◡`❁)

Maybe it's just my feed LMAO but I don't see enough fluff, or stuff catered to aces. Sometimes domesticity is better than smut.

Xavier - "You rest, I'll be by your side. Always."

🟣Would create a little nest in either of your apartments. Blankets draped over furniture, tons of pillows and plushies inside, fairy lights strung around providing soft lighting. 🟣He'd have a pile of movies, older romance ones that neither of you have seen before, ready and waiting for your first pick 🟣Bought all your favorite snacks and beverages 🟣Holds you close and strokes your hair or your arm, whatever he can trail his fingers over in gentle comforting strokes. 🟣Mostly watches your reactions during the movies, seeing what makes you light up and what you find too cheesy. 🟣Both of you would probably fall asleep, tangled together in the warm little fort he provided.

Zayne - "... You were the one who protected me in my dream."

🔹He prefers it when it's just you two, so he'd make your favorite meal at his house. 🔹Candles, your favorite flowers in a vase if you don't like roses, soft music. 🔹No wine or alcohol because he wants both of you to enjoy each other without the added effects of alcohol. 🔹Active listener while you talk over dinner, his attention is 100% on you. 🔹Fine with cuddling on the couch after dinner, watching your favorite movie or show. Seems to get invested in the media as well, giving you two something to gossip about during breaks. 🔹Orders a delicious dessert for both of you to share, teasing you by smearing a bit of chocolate on the tip of your nose. 🔹Ending the night cuddling on the couch again, his arms around you as he softly reads from a poetry book, the prose saying everything he struggles to.

Rafayel - "Our bond has existed for years."

🩷Sushi date? Sushi date. 🩷Walking barefoot on a private beach at sunset, holding your hand and listening to you chatter about anything and everything. He's attentive and focused on you. 🩷Still playful of course, so he'll tease you once in a while. Probably get into a splash fight near the water's edge. Laughing and chasing each other in the sand. Lifting you up and spinning you around until you both fall dizzy and breathless on the sand. 🩷Laying on the sand and watching the stars in the sky come out, his fire and warmth keeping both of you from freezing. 🩷Back in his studio and dressed in warmer pajamas, silly romcoms playing in the background as you two do that couples painting each other activity. 🩷Giggling at each other's depiction of the other. He paints a flower on your shoulder and you paint a little heart on his cheek. 🩷When it's late, you both cuddle in his bed as he sings your favorite Lemurian lullaby.

Sylus - "Who could ever do anything to me except you?"

⭕If you're into the whole lavish wining and dining, he'd 100% do it for you. Flowers, dressing to impress, dancing, all of it. ⭕Otherwise, he'd prepare one of your favorite meals or order take out for a night in. ⭕Both of you on the floor on some comfy blankets in front of the fireplace. A nice little in home picnic, your favorite records playing in the background. ⭕Playing board games or card games, whichever you prefer. Enjoying each other's company. ⭕Dancing in your socks and comfy clothes around the living room, giggling every time he spins you or dips you. ⭕Hide and seek with Mephisto because of course. ⭕Carrying you up to the bedroom and whispering how sweet you were today. ⭕Holding you in his arms as you sleep, humming softly the way he knows relaxes you.

Caleb - "No matter what happens, I'll always be the first person you can share things with."

🟧100% already had everything prepared for when you came. 🟧All your favorite dishes made. 🟧Also bought your favorite candy/chocolate like he did every year before. 🟧Both of you wearing matching sweaters because you're adorably dorky like that. 🟧Recreating pictures from when you were younger. 🟧Nerf gun fight? Nerf gun fight. 🟧Will pull you into his lap as you cuddle on his bed and watch movies. Both of you wearing face masks because he does everything with you. 🟧Will give you a massage if you need it, otherwise happy to just cuddle and fall asleep with you in his arms.

I hope I did them justice! uwu I might do a HC thing for disabled/chronically ill peeps like myself as well. All the comfort (❁´◡`❁) Which date night would you prefer out of the above? :3

[punkrockmlchael]

Secret Admirer

Masterlist | Gareth Emerson Masterlist

Gareth Emerson x Fem Cheerleader!Reader

Modern AU ; Secret Admirer to Lovers

Warnings: This is literally just fluff because I just.. needed this, No like literally buckle up for the fluffiest fluff, big bad and scary Gareth is actually a huge and sweet teddy bear when you get to know him, Secret Admirer!Gareth, Cheerleader!Reader, Best Friend!Chrissy, Kind of mean girl cheerleader friends, Gareth has little sisters, Gareth has a cat

Synopsis: Random love letters continue to find their way into your locker at school, it felt like each and every day there was a new one. As time goes on your friends are constantly guessing who they think your "Secret Admirer" actually is. But, they couldn't have been more wrong. This has been giving me trouble because I wanted it to be the best it could be and I continued to come back to it. It has nothing to do with Valentine's Day but I made it a goal to finish it before then and this, uh, this turned out pretty long... So, to anyone that was waiting I'm sorry for the delay but I hope you enjoy how this turned out! Thanks for reading! + once again thank you to the loves of my life @keeryhours + @the-witty-pen-name

Word Count: 7k

Notes. 

Love notes? 

No, just notes… right? 

That’s how it all started… with some small and subtle handwritten notes. Sweet little anonymous notes that always seemed to brighten your day and compliment you when you needed them the most. They came so often you were starting to wonder how you never noticed them being placed inside your locker… they must’ve been stuffed through the gaps but whoever was placing them definitely had to be quick and cunning if you never noticed them before, right?

It felt like every single day when you opened your locker a new handwritten note would fall to the ground and land at your feet. Each and every note seemed to have come from the same person—the consistent handwriting didn’t hide that, it actually only accentuated the fact that all these notes were from one person. But, alas, you never were able to find out who was sending them…

The scribbly and slightly slanted handwriting was a stark contrast to the nice and neat little square the paper was always folded into. It was funny, really, there was so much detail put into the folding of the paper but the handwriting was borderline unreadable unless you squinted and tilted your head to just the right angle. These notes were also never addressed with any name, any initials, anything; never even a clue as to who this person was, they never seemed to slip up and give away their identity. Which left you constantly playing the guessing game of who this person was and why they chose you to supply letters to. 

Each time a new note fell to the ground you’d look around, trying to spot if there was anyone lurking in the shadows and watching you. But, you never found anyone, at least, you never seemed to find someone who was actively watching you and your moves… if they were watching you they were doing it so discreetly that you never once thought anything of it. They were good at concealing their identity, really. 

Every little love note from your secret admirer, as Chrissy had called it, made its way into your folder. It brought a smile to your face every time the folder was opened, but you still wished you knew who exactly was writing the letters that put a huge smile on your face.

And more importantly… did they know they were putting these smiles on your face? Or, was all of this just a trick someone was playing on you? There’s no way you could have a secret admirer… right?

You sighed, yawning softly as you put the combination into your locker on autopilot. You had a late night; a pep rally was directly after school and the championship basketball game followed soon after. So, that meant that you cheered your little butt off for the entire school during said pep rally and for the entire town that had decided to come out to the championship game. All the while the band played in the background to help keep everyone interacted with obnoxious sounds of basketball coming from the court. (You know, the dribbling, the squeaks of sneakers, the shouts from players and the crowd; yeah, all of that.) Fortunately, Hawkins had won the championship game; the first big win in years. Unfortunately, that meant that you were stuck being dragged to a party after the game with your best friends and fellow cheerleaders, Chrissy and Kate. Apparently despite being a school night, the win still needed to be celebrated. But, really, what was the point? The game was already done, the win already secured by Jason Carver as he made the game winning shot at the buzzer. 

God, what more was there to celebrate? You wanted to celebrate your bed. But, no. Instead you were dragged out of the gym and to the biggest party you’d ever been to. Chrissy and Kate assured you that you’d be back home by 9 o’clock at night, but once 11 o’clock hit your body was finally resting in your bed comfortably, only to lie awake for ages. The clock showing 1:25 in the morning was the last thing you remembered before finally falling asleep.

You felt like you were running on empty as you yawned yet again, desperately craving an overly sweet iced coffee flavored with caramel syrup with extra whipped cream on top and maybe some extra caramel drizzle on top of that light and fluffy whipped cream. Yeah… that sounded like heaven right now. Caffeine buzz… sugar buzz… honestly, either sounded like they would help at this point in time. After struggling with your locker combination a couple of times, you finally succeeded and opened your locker to grab your English textbook. As you flung the door open, a small folded piece of paper landed at your feet. 

You raised an eyebrow and looked down at the paper by your feet before looking around the hall to see if there was anyone watching you. When you didn’t see anyone actively paying attention to you, you shrugged, bending down to reach for the paper. 

You held the small, perfectly folded paper in your hands before you opened it carefully, reading the contents to yourself.

You looked really pretty at the school pep rally yesterday.

You blushed to yourself, folding the paper back up quickly. You stuffed it in your pocket and grabbed your English textbook, closing your locker. You turned when you heard your name, looking at Kate as she walked towards you with a big grin on her face. Clearly, she was not affected by the late night like you were. She was looking as peppy and chipper as ever… damn, how did she do it? Did she already down that sugary and caffeine filled coffee of your dreams without you?

“Hey, girl,” Kate smiled, bumping your shoulder with her own gently. “How’d you sleep?” She giggled, taking in your tired and disheveled looking appearance. “I texted you, you didn’t respond. I had thought maybe you didn’t wake up in time for school this morning!” 

Looking at Kate, you rolled your eyes as a small scoff left your mouth. “I saw your text, I just didn’t have the brain power to reply. And as for sleeping? I slept like hell, thanks,” you muttered, making the short walk to your English class. Kate walked alongside you, smiling at you.

“Sorry, girl, I thought maybe you could survive off of a few hours of sleep.” She teased, walking into the classroom with you. You sighed, sinking into your seat.

“I can’t,” you replied softly, grabbing your folder out of your backpack. You grabbed the tiny piece of paper from your pants pocket and slid it in the folder discreetly for safe keeping. “And, I think you know that I can’t. I’m going to be honest, I think the only solution at this point is an iced coffee with too much caramel and too much whipped cream.” 

“Damn. Well, you better wake up quick,” she smirked, watching you rest your head in your hands. “Don’t think you want detention with the freaks today.” She added, motioning towards the boys of the Hellfire club. Eddie and Jeff stood around Gareth’s desk, talking far too loud for only being 7 o’clock in the morning. They continued to laugh and talk amongst each other, something about camping? No, a campaign? What the hell was a campaign? You really weren’t sure what they were going on about this early in the morning… it seemed like a foreign language to you and the other students that heard their conversation.

“Kate, don’t call them that,” you yawned again, watching the three boys continue to laugh until the bell rang. “They’re not freaks,” you mumbled, smiling softly when you saw Gareth look at you and smile.

“They are totally freaks, though.” Kate muttered back, looking at the board in the front of the room. 

But you didn’t hear her. You just yawned again, giving Gareth one last smile before looking at the board as well. You were clinging to the hope that you could at least make it to lunch in order to get a nap in… who needed to eat anyways?

You sat in study hall, reading The Great Gatsby to yourself as others around you mumbled and talked amongst themselves about various topics. No one else was doing any homework, and you didn’t really blame them. No one ever actually did homework in study hall… it was the class that students took to tell their parents they would be getting ahead of their schoolwork, but, really, it was just a free for all social hour. Even the teacher that watched study hall didn’t really care, she used this free time to pretend she was grading papers for her class but she was really just swiping through her latest dating app matches trying to find Mr. Right on her phone under the desk. And, it was kind of funny watching her sit and mumble to herself when she didn’t get a match she wanted but, also, this was Hawkins… not many suitors for a teacher at the local high school in her mid 30s. 

Normally you’d be sitting with Chrissy giggling with each other while watching the teacher as she aggressively swiped on her phone, mumbling to herself more. Then you’d move on to giggling about your latest cheer practice, then you’d be discussing the latest shade of nail polish you bought, then you’d go back to giggling about the latest funny video you saw online before finally discussing the newest skirt you had picked up at the mall. But, not today. Today you were just unlucky as Chrissy was sick which left you all alone in study hall. So, you might as well work on some homework… right?

While reading, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pouting to yourself when it moved over your ear again. You ran your fingers through your locks, sighing when you realized how short your hair actually was now. It framed your face perfectly—like you had wanted—but now it was too short to pull back into a ponytail, to place in a bun and apparently too short to even push back behind your ears to get it out of your face. 

Damn haircut.

You continued to attempt to push the strands of hair behind your ears before sighing to yourself, setting the book down on the table. You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked out the window, watching the wind blow the dry and brittle leaves around the field gently.

The sounds of the people talking around you started to become muffled as you continued to look out the window, watching the leaves dance through the air without a care in the world. There was a big gust of wind, the leaves flying through the wind freely, tauntingly almost, as you sat and watched. Your copy of The Great Gatsby sat long forgotten in front of you as your eyes followed the leaves outside the window.

You glanced over to the table in front of the window, watching as the Hellfire boys sat around in a circle having a very intense discussion. How do these boys always seem to be so in the zone and have the most intense conversations no matter the time of day? It kind of made you envious of the fact that they all enjoyed each other’s company and didn’t care what others around them thought—literally, they were so loud. They were polar opposites of so many others; most people in high school were so caught up in wanting to be popular and needing to fall into a specific category that they would do anything for it. But not these boys; no, these boys were different.

You watched as the boys continued to joke around with each other before Gareth stood up. He nodded at the others and walked past your table, smiling at you a little as he walked towards the door. You smiled at him before you glanced back at your book, picking it up again to attempt to dive back into the story you needed to desperately finish for English class. 

After a few minutes you were finally able to get back into your book. You became so engrossed in the story telling of Nick Carraway that you didn’t notice Gareth slip back into the room and back into his seat at the table with his Hellfire friends. They all went back to talking and joking with each other during the remainder of study hall. 

The annoying ring of the bell and the sound of your classmates packing their belongings up in a hurry was what finally pulled you out of your book. You sighed, marking the page you were on before you stuffed the book in your backpack and stood up, making your way out the door and down the hall to your locker. 

You put your combination in gracefully, opening the door to grab the correct books for your homework. A small piece of paper fell to your feet, landing on top of your converse shoes. You picked it up and unfolded it, reading the note to yourself.

You got a haircut; I like it. It looks good on you.

You blushed softly, reading the words on the paper before you glanced around you. There weren't many people roaming the hall at this time; it seemed like everyone was already out the door or on their way to practices and clubs. The only person walking towards you was your locker neighbor—Gareth. He smiled at you softly before he stopped next to you, putting the combination in his locker. You smiled back, holding the paper to your chest before you attempted to tuck the short strands of hair behind your ear again.

You grabbed your folder from your locker, placing the note inside carefully before shutting the door quietly. You glanced at Gareth, watching as he went through his less than tidy locker. Papers were scattered about the inside, crumpled and ripped and continuing to move with each movement he made.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, eyes stuck in his locker. He glanced at you and smiled a little. “Hey, uh, what’re the odds you know the homework we’re supposed to do for English tonight?” 

You smiled, looking at him with a slight nod. “Yeah, uh, here,” you replied, grabbing your planner from your bag. You turned it to the correct day before you handed it to him. Gareth smiled as he took his cellphone out of his pocket, snapping a picture of the homework you had written down. 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver… I swear I had it written down but can’t find it.” He stopped for a second, looking up at you. “Did you get a haircut?” He asked softly, his smile growing more. 

You nodded, running your fingers through your now short hair. “Uh, yeah. I’m not a huge fan of it…”

“Well, I think it looks good on you,” Gareth replied, closing his locker. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked, looking at you. You smiled, a pink tint covering your cheeks.

“Yeah… see you tomorrow, Gareth…” Gareth nodded at your response, smiling again as he turned away and walked towards the theater room, catching up with his friends Jeff and Eddie. You stood there for a second, watching him leave and begin laughing again with his friends. 

“Hey?” Kate called your name, walking towards you. “You okay? What are you looking at?” She asked, stopping next to you. You hummed, turning towards her.

“Huh? Oh, uh, nothing. Sorry, I was kind of zoning out…” 

“Right, well, ready for practice?” She asked, looking at you.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.” You replied, turning to walk towards the locker room. 

“What were you looking at?” Kate asked, walking alongside you. You shrugged, not wanting to admit to her that you were watching one of the freaks as she called him.

“Oh, nothing. I thought I heard something… you know?”

Kate raised an eyebrow, not believing you. “Yeah, sure.”

“Stupid fucking glasses,” you muttered to yourself, squinting as you looked at the board in your World History class. You tried to move a bit closer, leaning over your desk as you scribbled some notes sloppily in your notebook. When you realized that even moving closer to the board wasn’t helping, you sighed to yourself. You sat back in your seat as your teacher continued to speak to the entire class, making more and more notes on the white board about the latest World History Lesson.

You took your glasses off and squinted again, trying to keep up with the notes that were being written on the board. A small groan escaped your lips as you gave up on reading the board, instead taking notes based on what your teacher was speaking aloud. 

Gareth glanced up at you as he took his own notes, noticing how you seemed to be struggling with seeing the board. He raised an eyebrow as you put your new glasses back on, eyes directly on your notebook now as you wrote down everything you heard. You attempted to keep up with the notes, struggling slightly as your pen moved across the paper in hasty scribbles, it would be a miracle if you could even reread these notes later. 

Once the bell rang you stood up and moved towards the front of the room, looking at the board once again only this time from a closer view. You quickly wrote down any of the notes you had missed, comparing your notebook to the board a few times before gathering your belongings. You snapped a quick picture of the notes on the board with your phone to compare later before you walked to your locker, smiling at Gareth slightly as he stood at his own locker. 

He smiled at you, nodding at you slightly. “Hey,” he said softly, grabbing his textbook for his next class. “New glasses?” He asked, motioning to his own face.

“Hey, uh, yeah… I, uh, I got them yesterday after school,” you replied, putting the combination into your locker. 

“Nice, well, they look good on you.” Gareth replied, closing his locker. “I really like the black frames on you, they really make your eyes pop.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled, blushing softly. You opened your locker and watched a folded piece of paper fall to your feet. You bent down to grab it, opening it slightly to read the contents to yourself. Your eyes skimmed over the note, squinting slightly as you took in the words that were written on the paper.

You got new glasses, huh? The black frames look totally badass on you. 

You blushed a bit, reading over the note again. Someone else had actually noticed your new glasses and thought they looked good? And, they even went out of their way to compliment you on your new glasses, putting this note in your locker for you to find? You smiled a little, thinking to yourself. You thought these new glasses were terrible… they were just too big and bulky. Not to mention, they kind of gave you a bit of a headache, and they made it difficult to see the board in class right now. You pushed your glasses up higher on the bridge of your nose, examining the note in greater detail. 

God, whose handwriting was that? Who did you know that could write in such a sloppy, slanted manner? And, why—no, how—was the paper always folded up so perfectly?

You folded the note back up and stuffed it into your pocket. Glancing up, you noticed Gareth was gone and was probably off to his next class by now.

“Hey!” You jumped at the sound of Chrissy walking towards you, giggling to herself. “Woah, you good girl?” She asked, looking at you with a smile. 

“Huh? Yeah, sorry, just… have a headache,” you mumbled, grabbing your notebook from your locker before shutting it quickly.

“Yeah, I’ve heard new glasses can do that to you.” She said softly with a small frown. “But, at least you can see, right?” 

“Something like that,” you replied, nodding as you looked at her. “Ready for class?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Chrissy nodded, walking with you towards your next class. Your right hand made its way into your pocket, playing with the folded note gently. 

God, who was leaving these notes?

“Oh my god, this is so weird,” you smiled from your seat at the cheerleader lunch table. You were sitting next to Chrissy and across from Kate, a wide smile on your face as you looked at both of them.

“What?” Kate asked, smiling at you.

“Yeah, what’re you going on about, girlie?” Chrissy smiled, taking a bite of her salad.

“This is like my first lunch without braces in god knows how long.” You smiled brightly, showing off your perfectly straight and shiny teeth. “There’s so many foods I can eat now like… I can have gum again, I can have potato chips, I can have popcorn. My god, I am so excited to eat all the food I haven’t been able to lately.” 

“How many selfies have you taken so far?” Chrissy giggled, looking at you with a smile. “I have to think you’ve at least taken a couple of selfies already to show off your brand new smile.”

You giggled, taking a bite of one of your baby carrots. “Maybe just a few… you know, just had to take some pictures and test out some new angles,” you smiled more, running your tongue over your teeth. It felt weird. It was smooth, and there were no more braces.

“I have to admit, you look good without the braces,” Kate smiled, looking at you. “Don’t get me wrong, you were always beautiful but you look so happy without them on.”

“Yeah, your smile is so contagious.” Chrissy smiled as well, agreeing with Kate. You smiled at them both, continuing to munch on your baby carrots with ranch.

“You’re both going to make me blush,” you giggled. You finished your lunch while joking with your friends before the bell rang. 

“Shit, I forgot I have a math test,” Kate said, standing up.

“Damn, that means I have a math test,” Chrissy groaned, standing up as well. They both looked at you and smiled, “see you after school, girl.” 

“Yep! See you at cheer practice,” you smiled, rising from your seat. You grabbed your items and made your way to your locker. You put your combination in and opened the door, watching yet again as a small piece of folded paper fell to your feet. This one was a little different, your name was on the outside of the paper with a small smiley face drawn next to it.

You bent down and picked up the paper, reading your name on the outside before you opened it, looking at the contents within.

No more braces, huh? God, your smile is breathtaking. 

You blushed a bright red, unable to hide the wide smile that was forming on your face. Who is the one person that keeps noticing these small little changes about you? And, follow up question, why do they feel the need to tell you through these notes? Are they seeing the smile that forms on your face after you read the notes? Are they doing it as a joke?

Reading over the note again, you smiled as you looked into your locker, reaching for your textbook. You grabbed your folder as well, placing the note inside before you closed the locker door and made your way towards your next class wearing the same smile you had when you first read the note—a huge, bright and contagious smile, as Chrissy called it. 

“Have you figured out who your secret admirer is yet?” Kate, asked as you walked towards your lockers together after cheer practice was finally over. The halls were dim and empty, the three of you the only ones around for the time being. 

“It’s Steve! No, it’s Andy! Wait, maybe it’s Tommy,” Chrissy squealed, naming off all of the popular boys in your grade.

“Chrissy, come on, you’re just throwing names out left and right at this point,” Kate commented, shaking her head. You shrugged, walking towards your locker.

“I think you are both too invested in this,” you said, stopping at your locker. “I mean, they’re just little letters and I don’t even know who they’re from!” You said, putting your locker combination in. “It’s not a big deal.”

“They’re love letters,” Kate corrected, looking at you. “That is, like, so totally a big deal!”

“Yeah! This could be your future boyfriend! Your future husband, the father of your children,” Chrissy gushed, watching as you opened your locker.

“You two are just so—” you started, cutting yourself off as you looked into your locker. You raised your eyebrow, looking at the girls before redirecting your attention back to the locker. 

“We’re so what?” Chrissy asked, giggling.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Kate asked, moving to get a better look in your locker.

You picked up the single red rose that was sitting in your locker, holding it up. You lifted it to your nose, sniffing it gently before you noticed the piece of paper attached to it. You quickly unfolded it, reading the contents as a smile appeared on your face.

You’re the most beautiful girl in the world ♡

You looked up at Kate and Chrissy, smiles forming on their faces as well. “Still think it’s not a big deal?” Kate asked, taking a peek at the love note. “Someone is like, in love with you!”

“Oh, my god,” Chrissy squealed again, jumping up and down. “This is so perfect, oh my god, what if he’s planning on asking you to Prom?”

“Chrissy, I still don’t even know who he is,” you reminded her, looking down the hall to see if you could find anyone. Then again, it was after school and clubs… not too many people were still here willingly. No, just a few teachers and the janitors tended to linger around the building at this time.

“Come on, it has to be Steve, he’s always watching you while we’re cheering!” Chrissy smiled, looking at you. 

“Oh, my god, picture it,” Kate smiled, joining in on Chrissy’s excitement. “Prom; Chrissy and Jason, me and Billy, and you and Steve!”

“Isn’t he with Nancy?” You asked, sniffing the rose again. Kate shook her head rapidly. 

“No! They broke up!”

“Yeah, she’s with Jonathan now,” Chrissy added, looking at you. “Oh, god, I hope it’s Steve!” 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at your two friends and their speculations. You grabbed your things and smiled at them, closing your locker. “You guys are crazy,” you said, looking at them. “But, I have to go. I have to go work on a World History project with my partner.”

“Partner?” Chrissy asked, gasping slightly. “Wait, is it Steve?” 

“Or Andy? Or Tommy?” Kate asked, giggling with Chrissy. You shook your head and looked at them.

“No, it’s Gareth.” 

“The freak?” Chrissy asked. You shook your head slightly and looked at her.

“Don’t call him that, he’s actually pretty nice… I think,” you replied, shrugging slightly.

“Oh, god, don’t tell me you have a crush on one of the freaks,” Kate said softly, rolling her eyes. 

“Look, I have to go. I’m already late, I texted him and told him I’d be there around five and it’s almost five thirty!” You panicked, grabbing your phone to send Gareth a text. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bye!” You added, running towards the door as you typed out a text to Gareth. 

You made it to your car and started the short drive to Gareth’s house from the high school. He had sent you a text back that you read once you pulled up to his house, a text back that just said ‘it’s fine, no biggie,’ but to you it felt like a biggie, in fact, it felt like a big biggie. You hated being late and even more, you hated blowing people off. You grabbed your bag and hopped out of the car, walking towards the front door; taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer. 

After a minute or so a cute little girl opened the door. She was probably around seven or so and looked just like Gareth—she had blue eyes, fluffy hair with little curls thrown about and an adorable smile with a tooth missing in the front. She held a small baby blue teddy bear under her arm and smiled up at you.

“Hi! I’m Gracie,” she beamed, looking at you.

“Hi, Gracie,” you smiled at her. “Is Gareth home?”

She nodded and giggled, turning around. “Gare! Your girlfriend is here!” She turned back to you and smiled, “you’re pretty.”

You blushed softly as she called you her brother’s girlfriend, smiling a little. “Why, thank you, Gracie.” After a minute Gareth came walking to the front door, looking at Gracie.

“Why are you yelling at me?” He asked, noticing you at the door. He smiled at you slightly before looking back at Gracie.

“I said your girlfriend is here,” Gracie said, pointing to you. “She’s pretty, Gare, are you going to kiss her?” 

You stifled a laugh, biting your lip as you looked at her with a small smile. Gareth turned a bright shade of red before he shook his head, pointing towards the living room. “Okay, that’s enough. Don’t you have a tea party to get back to?” Gracie gasped and nodded, looking at Gareth.

“You’re right! Mr. Fluffy is waiting for me!” And with that Gracie was running back to her tea party, forgetting you were even at the door. Gareth shook his head and looked up at you, still a bit pink as he stepped to the side and motioned for you to come in.

“Hey, uh, sorry about… her,” he said softly, closing the door behind you as you walked in. “She’s got… quite the imagination,” Gareth trailed off, looking into the living room as he watched his sister go back to her tea party with her stuffed animals. “We can go to my room,” he said, directing his attention back to you with a small smile.

“That sounds good,” you nodded, smiling as you followed him into the house and up the stairs. Along the way, you took note of all the decorations in the house. There were so many family pictures on the walls along with various other pictures. You lingered on one slightly, smiling at what appeared to be Gareth when he was younger with his parents. He was standing in front of their house in between his mom and dad with a toothless grin on his face, his hair was a mess, a fluffy mop on his head. You smiled softly, eyes flickering from the picture back to the boy in front of you. 

He stopped in front of a door that had a Metallica poster on the back and opened it, motioning for you to go first. You smiled at him, stepping into his room as you looked around. There were metal posters everywhere as well as pictures of him and his friends hanging on the wall. His dresser had a ton of little dragon figurines on it with a book that said Dungeons and Dragons Player’s Handbook. 

“Sorry, it’s kind of messy,” Gareth apologized, moving some of his clothes off of his bed. “I’m actually so terrible at putting my clothes away… very toxic trait of mine,” he mumbled, walking towards his closet. You giggled softly, watching him walk past you.

“Oh, mine too, it’s okay,” you smiled, watching him throw the clothes in his closet.

“You can take a seat on my bed, get comfy or whatever, we might be here for a bit.” He said, looking back at you. You glanced at his bed, taking note of the dark colored bedspread and blankets. You walked towards it, sitting gently. You grabbed your textbook and notebook from your bag, placing them on the bed in front of you as you grabbed a pen. You placed your bag down beside you and jumped when you felt the bed move, looking back to see a black cat staring at you curiously.

“Oh, hi,” you said softly, reaching out to pet the cat gently. Gareth closed his closet door and grabbed his notebook and textbook as well, looking back at his bed with a smile.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I probably should have warned you about him. You’re not like allergic or anything are you?” He asked, sitting next to you on his bed. You shook your head, scratching the cat behind his ears as he started purring, nuzzling against your leg. “Well, that’s Ozzy.” He smiled, “he’s kind of an attention whore.”

“Well, hi Ozzy,” you smiled, scratching his head more. “You are so cute, Gareth didn’t tell me he had such a cute little kitty friend at home.” Gareth smiled a little, watching you interact with Ozzy.

“I kind of forgot you’ve never been to my house, otherwise I would have warned you about Gracie too.” He said, opening his notebook to his most recent notes.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a sister either,” you nodded, looking at him with a small smile. “She’s cute, though. She looks just like you.”

“Yeah, I get that alot.” Gareth replied, setting his notebook down as he tapped his thighs for Ozzy. Ozzy meowed and walked towards him, jumping into his lap before he curled up in a ball, purring more. “She is definitely the cuter sibling.”

You giggled to yourself, looking at your notebook in front of you. You smiled as you glanced at his notebook and stopped in your tracks when you saw his notes on the page. More specifically, when you saw his handwriting on the notebook page. That consistent scribbly, slanted handwriting was staring at you, teasing you; taunting you and calling out to you. 

Why? Because you know you’ve seen it before.

In fact, you’ve seen that handwriting so often recently. And it was currently sitting in your folder on numerous pieces of paper as well as sitting in your car with a bright red rose. 

You glanced up at him, watching as he continued to pet Ozzy on his lap.

Holy shit.

Gareth Emerson was your secret admirer. 

You walked through the gym in your red ball gown, weaving through the groups of people. While you had come to this dance with Chrissy and Kate, they were off now dancing with their boyfriends. Which was fine, it just meant that you were now alone for the time being. 

You made your way towards the punch table, grabbing yourself a cup before you took in your surroundings. You glanced around the room, sipping on the punch. Your eyes landed on the one person you were looking for–Gareth Emerson. He was sitting alone at a table in the corner, messing with his tie. 

It had been about a month since you had realized that Gareth was the one supplying the letters in your locker. And, since that day, his letters haven't stopped… in fact, they have actually increased to coming daily. Sometimes even twice a day. You wondered if he knew that you knew who he was… if he did know that you knew, he was doing an amazing job at hiding it. If he didn’t know then… well, he was just crazy.

Because you had been wanting to say something to him ever since the eventful day when you first recognized his handwriting and found out who he was. You just never found the right time. At least, until tonight—prom night. For some reason, tonight seemed like the perfect time to tell him, to show him, to confess your mutual feelings that had been growing towards him since you started spending time with him one on one. 

It was prom after all, wasn’t tonight about love and relationships and all that other cheesy shit?

You smiled to yourself and grabbed another cup of punch carefully. You made your way towards the table Gareth was sitting at, taking a seat next to him. He looked up at you and smiled, “hey, you, uh, you look great,” Gareth said, taking in your appearance. He smiled softly as he watched the red lace fabric hug your upper body and curves before it flowed into a poofy ball gown skirt at your hips. Damn, you looked too good in that, and red was always his favorite color. Curse you for picking up on that and for wearing it specifically for him.

“Thanks,” you smiled, setting both cups of punch down on the table. “You clean up pretty well too, you know.” You giggled, looking at him. “I have to admit, I’m pretty surprised you’re here. School dances don’t seem like your kind of thing. But, I brought you some punch.” 

Gareth blushed softly, shrugging as his fingers continued to play with the end of his red tie. “Thanks. And, I had to wear this suit somewhere, you know?” He replied, looking up at you. “Are you… uh, all alone tonight?” He asked, his right hand moving towards the cup of punch you placed in front of him. 

“Kind of,” you responded, looking at him with a smile. “I came with Kate and Chrissy but they’re with Jason and Billy.” You motioned towards your friends who were dancing with their boyfriends. You hung your purse on the edge of your chair before resting your arms on the table. You looked at Gareth with a smile on your face, “what about you?”

Gareth smiled, looking at you. “What about me?” He asked, taking a drink of the overly sweet punch you had brought him.

“I mean,” you smiled, “where are your friends? Or are you also all alone tonight?”

“Ah,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Kind of? Eddie is flirting with girls, trying to get someone to dance with him and, honestly, I’m not too sure where Jeff and Grant ended up…”

“And you’re not asking any girls to dance?” You asked, looking at Gareth. He looked up at you and shook his head.

“Oh, no, I don’t think any girl would want to dance with me anyways…”

“That’s not true,” you replied, “I bet there are plenty of girls that would like to dance with you.”

“Yeah, right,” Gareth shook his head. “Like who?”

You shrugged, smiling at him. “Good question.” You reached for your purse, pulling out a small piece of folded paper. You handed it to him and giggled softly.

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow, looking down at the folded piece of paper in his hand. He unfolded it carefully, looking at the contents carefully. 

Will you dance with me, my secret admirer? ♡

Gareth read the paper and looked up at you, turning a bright red. “How, uh… how did you know it was… me?” He asked softly, folding the paper back up. He tucked it into his jacket pocket gently, eyes on you again as he looked you up and down subtly. 

“Well, your handwriting during our History project kind of gave it away for me,” you giggled. “So, will you dance with me?” You asked, standing up. You placed your hand out for Gareth to grab, smiling when he stood up and placed his hand in yours.

“Of course I’ll dance with you,” he said softly, pulling you towards the dance floor just in time for a slow song. “Though, I must admit, I am terrible at dancing.” 

“Yeah, me too,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck gently. Gareth smiled softly, placing his hands on your hips gently. 

“You’re not like… I don’t know… weirded out by me placing those notes and stuff in your locker, are you?” He asked softly, pulling you closer to his body gently.

“No, not really… should I be?” You asked, smiling up at him. “If we’re being honest with each other, I have always had a tiny bit of a crush on you and I was secretly hoping you were the one planting all the letters for me…” 

“Really?” Gareth asked softly, swaying with you to the music. “Well, if we’re being honest with each other… the truth is I’ve had a crush on you for quite a while, and, I guess I was just… nervous that you wouldn't like a freak like me,” Gareth admitted softly, leaning closer to you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, moving your face closer to his.

“Well, you’re a cheerleader, I’m a freak… we just, don’t really go together, you know?” 

“Why are you calling yourself a freak?” You frowned. 

“Because, well, that’s kind of what I am? You’re popular and I’m just, well, a freak.”

“No,” you argued, shaking your head. “You’re really cool and really sweet and to be honest… being popular doesn’t mean anything. I like you for you, and truth is; I’d love to get to know the real you more.” 

“Really?” Gareth asked, smiling softly. 

“Really.”

“Well, uh, in that case,” Gareth said, leaning closer. “Can I… uh, can I kiss you?” He asked softly. 

“Please,” you replied. 

Gareth smiled and leaned in closer, placing his lips against yours softly. You smiled, kissing him back as your fingers played with his hair on the back of his neck gently. Gareth’s right hand moved up to your face, caressing your cheek softly as he pulled you closer to him with his left hand that was still placed in your hip. 

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you, maybe, uh, want to go out with me sometime?” He stuttered out softly, looking at you. 

“Absolutely.” You replied, leaving another soft kiss on his lips.

gareth tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @darkyuffie-blog ; @luveediary ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @bastardstevie ; @pupwrites ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @the-unforgivenn ; @corrodedcorpses ; @potatoesenpaii ; @cowboylikemunson

[danisbrainrot]

Teen nat comforting you when you're crying about something hcs?

natalie scatorccio x reader

a/n: we're so back! after the first two episodes of season three dropped I'm inspired by this ask. it's not head canons, sorry, I just liked the idea and wanted to write a little story about it.

sorry this must be at least six months late, but here it is! camp counsellor nat :)

spoilers ahead!! (technically? I think it's just season two spoilers though)

wiping the tears from your eyes, you sniffle into your lap, hunching over to take up as little space as possible. you just wanted to be out of everyone's way, not wanting to ruin the mood with your tears. everyone else was happy and celebrating surviving winter, while you felt stuck. frozen in time, still unable to move on from how much winter took from you girls.

first jackie. then crystal. then javi. . .

now springtime has rolled around, you can't help but feel the same dread you felt throughout winter—yes, it was lovely now and your team has cultivated a livable community. however, you couldn't help but wonder what happens next winter? When akilah's animals freeze to death, gen can't find game. . . when shauna goes crazy again.

you pause, wondering when was the last time shauna was sane. then, guilt creeps in as you realise that you had no right to judge her—not after everything she lost. her best friend. her baby.

"hey, are you okay?" nat asked, crouching down to your level.

you gasp in shock, wiping more tears from your eyes. your cheeks stung with embarrassment at getting caught—nat came out of nowhere, giving you no time to recuperate. "yeah, just. . . needed to let it out."

placing a comforting hand on your back, nat tried to offer you a reassuring smile. "hey, we all understand. it can feel daunting out here. if you ever need someone to talk, I'm here."

"oh I know, your majesty," you tease, eliciting a snort from nat—you could tell she hated the title. you sigh gently, signalling you were okay. nat pats your thigh, standing up when suddenly your hand flings out to grab hers. "do you think we're awful people? for eating javi? and jackie?"

nat pauses, her face dropping significantly. she bites her bottom lip, which you find insanely attractive, before shrugging. "we did what we had to. . . to survive."

"but if that's what it takes to survive, do we deserve to?" you question, clutching nat's hand firmly. the brunette looks down at you, her expression unreadable, before shaking her head.

"all I know is that it should have been me. javi. . . I still don't believe in lottie's bullshit about the forest, but I will never forget his sacrifice."

you nod, realising your questions were hurting natalie more than you'd meant for them to. you drop your hand, resting it in your lap and watch her walk away.

she swivels her head to look at you, words on the tip of her tongue, before she shakes the thought away and walks away.

late that night, you hear a rustle outside your makeshift hut. turning to your roommate, you find gen fast asleep, so you decide to investigate by yourself. you follow a sliver of light, someone's back to you as they watch the small flames dance.

"shouldn't you put that out? it's late," you ask, sitting next to nat on the campfire log. she glances at you, her face enchantingly illuminated by the flames, taking your breath away.

"just thinking," she mumbles.

"about our conversation before?" you ask, eliciting a nod in response. you stare at the fire, wondering if it was the heat from the dying flames that burnt your cheeks or the way nat looked.

"you didn't chase me. why?" she whispers, not daring to look you in the eyes.

"when we ate jackie, it felt different. . . she was already dead and we didn't cook her, the snow did. sure, it was cannibalism but it wasn't murder. . . if I had chased you—"

"you'd have actively tried to hunt me," she replies.

"it seemed wrong, even for us," you answer.

there was a beat of silence while you watch her gaze into the flames. you felt your heart race in your chest, working up the courage to tell her what you want to say, "it goes both ways," you promise. she looks up at you confused, "if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. . . and I'm sure it's not easy as the antler queen, especially with whatever shauna and mari have going on."

nat erupts into laughter, shaking her head. "don't get me started on those two," she replies, before her laugh fades to a small smile. she places her hand on your shoulder, "but I like the idea. we look out for each other."

"You'll be the queen and I'll be your—wait what is it called. . . the people royalty lean on for support. . . oh, concubines?" your face drops when you notice nat's face. her eyebrows are raised and tries to cover her mouth and stifle her laughter.

nat can no longer hold it in and burst into laughter again, "that doesn't mean what you think it does," she teases.

"oh, that's the sex one. isn't it?" you mutter, lowering your head to avoid her gaze. nat tucks her hair behind her ears, making you think about how she managed to rock the grown out look. she suited blonde, brunette and a combination of both.

nat notices you watching her intensely, "what? is there something in my hair?" she asks, raking her hands through it swiftly.

"no, no. just wondering if you miss the blonde?"

"well, it's still there, isn't it?"

you snort, "yeah, but the full blonde?"

nat shrugs, "more important things to worry about," she replies candidly.

you reach out to play with the blonde hair, twirling it around your finger. unknowingly, you'd accidentally brought her face closer to yours. she didn't seem to mind, but once you realise your cheeks burn and you shuffle away from her. "sorry," you mumble.

"come here," she replies, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you close.

your lips connected seamlessly, like your lips were made for each other. she kisses you softly, a reassurance that she was here for you, while her fingers tangle themselves in your—already tangled—hair.

after what felt like only a minute—but could have been longer—nat gently pulls away, a string of saliva all that connected you two. she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, cleaning away the evidence, and offers you a wonky smile. "I suppose every queen needs her concubine after all," she jokes.

"that was amazing," you whisper, still in awe. she laughs again, resting her forehead against yours.

[gamesetattach]

Crushing Feelings

Jannik Sinner x Reader Nothing like an unrequited crush being rubbed in your face all the fucking time to help you move on... said no one ever

When you first joined Jannik Sinner’s team, it was all business.

As a performance analyst, you were responsible for analyzing opponents, developing match plans, and ensuring Jannik had every tactical edge possible when he stepped onto the court. You had a knack for seeing patterns others didn’t, for noticing weaknesses that even the most seasoned strategists overlooked. You had quickly become an indispensable part of the team; the final, decisive piece—the last nail in the head keeping him pinned to the No. 1 spot.

It had been nearly a year now, and you were fully embedded into the tight-knit unit that traveled and trained with Jannik week in and week out. The team functioned like a family, moving like a well-oiled machine through the stacked tennis schedule. The older members—the coaches, the trainer, the physio—had easily adopted you into their dynamic, acting almost parental in the many moments between professionalism; they'd offer guidance, tease you good-naturedly, and make sure neither you or Jannik lost yourselves in the intensity of the tour.

But along with your developing relationship in the team came a growing problem: you were starting to fall in love with their golden boy.

---

Jannik had been oblivious from the start.

It had started as a harmless attraction, because who didn't entertain their days with a little work crush. But somewhere along the line it had shifted into something deeper, and you couldn't be sure when. Maybe it had been the first time he actually laughed at one of your sarcastic remarks instead of just kind of blinking at you. Or maybe it was that first late-night strategy session, when you sat side by side reviewing footage for hours and he trusted every one of your calls without question. Or maybe—and most likely—it was just that he was Jannik. Kind, driven, determined, sweet Jannik.

The rest of the team picked up on your little thing for him pretty quickly.

Their teasing was subtle, but relentless, because how could they not take the bait, what with all the time you spent pining after him. Like when you lingered a little too long after practice, or when you went the extra mile to make sure his game plan was perfect, when your frustration at his losses held a little more emotion than it should have.

“Don’t watch him so hard, he’ll still need an analyst when he’s thirty,” Uli, his physio, had once told you after you’d spent an extra two, unnecessary hours analyzing a match tape. You didn't like the smirk on his face when he'd said it, and you avoided the knowing glint in his eyes.

Marco, his trainer, didn't bother with any allusions and would just go straight into it. "If I didn’t know better, which I don't, I’d say you were trying to impress him."

You had rolled your eyes, flipping through your notes. "Yeah, because nothing says ‘romance’ like match statistics."

You withstood their teasing with grace, knowing it was all in good jest and that Jannik would never catch on. Besides, you could hardly deny their claims. He had you incurably charmed, and it went beyond his dedication as a player or his support of your tactics. It was the small things—his deadpan, goofy humor that had you snorting into your drink at dinner, or his surprising ability to remember the smallest details about you, like knowing which of the tour's cities you most wanted to experience or even how you preferred your tea before bed.

The more you knew him, and the more he knew you, the more your feelings fortified. But then, throughout it all, there was Jannik himself: utterly clueless.

---

When you first joined, Jannik had been in a long-term relationship. His then-girlfriend was present at the occasional tournament, and you had been nothing but professional. The crush had been minor back then, a non-issue really. Just a silly, rational admiration for the best player in the world. But a few months into your tenure, Jannik and his girlfriend broke up.

And something shifted soon after that.

You got closer, in a way that felt separate from your work. There were little moments that made you think that maybe—that just maybe—something could happen. The way he lingered after meetings, how he always found excuses to stay near you during travel, all the private jokes you had from the late night, plane conversations. It had been so easy to believe there might be something there. That he might feel the same.

And then he started dating another tennis player.

That one had been harder to stomach.

You had spent too much time with him by then, and often caught yourself daydreaming about things you shouldn’t. Seeing him in a new relationship, in such close and constant proximity, had been a slap of reality, forcing you to bury whatever flicker of hope you had allowed yourself to entertain.

So you buried your feelings, put on a brave face, and committed yourself to maintaining your friendship and professionalism without willing for something more.

But soon his latest relationship fizzled too, and Jannik was single yet again. Still, you refused to backtrack on the promise you had made yourself. You swore you wouldn’t pine; that you'd put yourself out there and move on. You had vowed that you wouldn't just wait for something that was never going to happen.

And so you had to push down any hope that tried to resurface even though he was single once more. Though 'forcing' yourself to move on was mostly just you pretending to.

If you had learned anything in your time with this team, it was that you had a job to do—one that you did well. You weren’t going to let a little crush ruin that.

Besides, Jannik Sinner was nothing if not uninterested.

And just when you'd finally started to convince yourself of that, Jannik began acting differently...

---

It started small.

Something about the way he interacted with you had undeniably changed, deepened. It wasn’t drastic, probably not conscious enough for him to notice, but you did. It was in the way he'd look for you on court during practice, how he always seemed to find his way to wherever you were in whatever hotel, how he'd casually prop himself against the nearest surface as if there was no where else he'd rather be.

There'd been one night, after an especially long travel day full of delays and last-minute changes, where one of his gestures of this newfound affection had first caught you off guard. Too exhausted to continue standing, you had plopped on the hotel floor outside your room to sift through your bag for the keycard you’d only just received. Frustrated and tired, after a whole day of misplacing things, it felt like the last straw. Jannik, having heard the rummaging and loaded sighs from down the hall, walked over to you, racket bag slung over his shoulder. Without a word, he crouched beside you, pulled your backpack into his lap, and started searching with a level of patient concentration that made you and your worries feel like the most important thing in the world. When he found it tucked into some inner pocket, he held it up with an easy smirk.

“You really should get a better system,” he teased, pressing it into your palm before standing and holding a hand out to help you up.

Another time, you had spilled a drink on your top during a meeting while reviewing match notes on your laptop. Immediately, Jannik wet a clean towel from his bag, reached for the hem of your shirt, and carefully dabbed at the fabric. He hadn't even stopped talking, his attention still on the discussion at hand, as if it were the most natural thing for him to tend to you like that.

There was also the night after a particularly grueling match when he had found you in the hotel lobby well past midnight, working through data with a frustrated expression. Instead of telling you to sleep, he slid a bottle of water across the table and just sat down next to you. "You work too hard," he said simply, his voice softer than usual.

His most common, new thing, though, was this habit of detangling your hair for you. It started when he noticed you tugging through your knots in frustration after a windy and active day. The first time, he had simply reached over and started working through a particularly stubborn section at the nape of your neck. "Hold still," he had instructed, so focused that he didn’t notice the way your breath hitched.

That one had become routine after that. If your hair was messy before or after a long day, as it so often was, and if you seemed too busy to deal with it yourself, he’d see to it without asking. It was never rushed, never a pain—it was an almost unconscious, reflexive act of care for him. Sometimes he'd brush a stray hair from your face just because. And it was one of many small actions that made it very, very difficult for you to move on.

The rest of the team, of course, picked up on all of this. And though they had thankfully stopped picking on you for your feelings sometime during Jannik's last relationship, they'd now taken to teasing him instead.

“Jannik,” Marco drawled one afternoon when you were all waiting for court assignments. "If you’re going to be all over her, at least wait until after the session."

Jannik, who had just nudged your chair closer to his so he could lean over and rest his chin on your shoulder to see your screen, only blinked. "What?"

Uli snorted, exchanging a look with the rest of the team. "Give the girl some room to breath, man. It's like you're stuck to her."

Jannik rolled his eyes, his go-to response when the guys started ganging up on him like this. "We’re just close."

"Yes, yes," even Simone chimed in. "So close, no?"

Jannik just scoffed, laughing it off, completely missing the way you stiffened at how quickly he dismissed the idea of there being anything more. How it was such an incredulous thought for him, all he felt to do was wave it off. How it was an accusation so baseless, he didn't even feel the need to deny it.

It shouldn’t have stung—you were supposed to be moving past it after all. But it still did, because you still hadn't.

---

Your next big stop as a team was his home country, and you hoped that meant he'd have less time for you. As much as you loved it, you could hardly begin to get over him when his attention was all over you.

Turin was bustling when you arrived for the tournament. The first night, the team decided to go out for dinner at a local favorite. Most of the group was back in their native land, and were fully in their element. Only you and Darren were true outsiders here, leaning on the others for cultural guidance. They all happily jumped with recommendations and translations, though, overwhelmed with all their enthusiasm, you had trouble narrowing a dish down.

When the waiter came over and introduced himself to the table, he immediately locked eyes on you after a scan of the group. And though you'd yet to look up and notice, the rest of the team rustled with amusement at his obvious interest in you.

“Ladies first,” he said smoothly, waiting for your order.

Eyes still glued to the menu, you waved to the others and murmured distractedly. “I'm sorry, I still need another minute.”

He went around the table, taking everyone else's orders before circling back. You still weren’t sure, so you asked for the waiter's opinion between two dishes and gestured at the menu, “Between the risotto and this pasta, which would you recommend?"

Vaguely from across the table, Simone tsked; he'd already tried to explain the distinction.

“The flavors are very different,” the waiter began, and you finally raised your eyes to his. The moment you looked up at him and met his gaze, his voice faltered. The words tripped in his throat, and he stammered for half a second before recovering.

The table definitely noticed that.

Marco elbowed Simone. Uli covered his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter. Even Darren smirked at the situation unfolding. You, now aware but patient, simply smiled at him and selected his favorite after his thorough, floundering explanation. No one missed how his cheeks dusted pink when you handed the menus back to him.

The second he left, the table erupted. Though Jannik was notably, and uncharacteristically, silent throughout the commotion.

“Dio mio” Marco cackled, shaking his head. “Poor kid couldn’t even think straight.”

You shook your head and shushed them, suppressing a smile. “Oh please, leave the guy alone! What if he comes back and hears?”

“If?” Uli snorted. “He’s definitely coming back every five minutes just for you."

"At least we're assured good service." Darren added, still chuckling to himself.

You had rolled your eyes, but, sure enough, the waiter continued to check in on your table far more times than necessary. Each stop, the team made sure to give him a hard time.

After one of his visits, Marco muttered something in Italian to him. The waiter's eyes flickered towards you, and he grinned before responding.

The trainer chuckled, nodding approvingly. "Good man."

Next to you, Jannik had gone completely rigid.

You'd noticed his unusual quiet throughout the meal and hadn't wanted to pry, but now you gently asked, “What’s wrong?”

He barely looked at you. “Nothing.”

You shrugged and rejoined the table's conversation as the waiter walked away with a smile your way for the dozenth time that night.

“What did he say?” you asked, you'd picked up the word bellisima but not much else.

Uli smiled. “He said you’re very beautiful and that he’s working up the courage to ask you out.”

You eyebrows shot up. “Wait—really?”

Jannik now focused his gaze somewhere off in the distance, and chugged his water glass dry. You glanced over as the table rattled when he firmly set the cup down, but shook your head and chose to move past his mood. He wasn't your responsibility, and this waiter could be the first, real opportunity for you to move on. The rest of the team, however, exchanged knowing glances at Jannik's obvious irritation.

You brought the attention back to your inquiry, your expression still one of pleasant surprise. You glanced toward the waiter, who was still hovering nearby, before looking back at the team, a smile tugging at your lips. “He said he was going to actually ask me out?”

Jannik’s grip on his fork tightened and, voice sharper than necessary, he snapped, “Does it even matter?”

The abruptness stunned you, and had the rest of the table stilling.

“Excuse me?” You frowned, turning to him. “I think he’s cute, and, honestly, I’d love to go on a date. So what?”

When his expression only darkened and his jaw clicked, you scoffed and continued. “Why do you even care? It has nothing to do with you.”

He didn’t answer. But the rest of the team had silently glanced around at each other with hidden, knowing smiles and drawn breaths.

The waiter continued his frequent check ups, except now Jannik was all but fuming. You basked in the attention, leaning into it—flashing the waiter soft smiles, brushing your fingers against his as you passed a plate. And each time, Jannik sat silent and tense, picking at his food.

He watched it all unfold, displeasure plain on his face.

But dinner wrapped up and the waiter's ask never came. Jannik rushed to pay the bill as you tried not to look around expectantly. Jannik mood seemed to lift instantly as they exited the establishment. Finally perked up, he practically ran the group out of the place.

You, however, felt disappointment settle in your chest. So much for a fun, Italian fling.

Seeing Jannik’s smug reaction only made it worse. You tried to play off being let down, but huffed when you caught that satisfied smirk he wasn't even trying to suppress.

You muttered, “Asshole,” under your breath.

Jannik turned to you, frowning. "What did I do?"

You rolled your eyes, and the rest of the team just shook their heads at him in warning.

Then, before you could answer, you heard hurried footsteps patter behind you and watched as Jannik’s face fell.

“Wait!”

You turned to find the waiter had run after you, only slightly breathless as he reached. “I—sorry, I meant to ask sooner. I just got off now, and maybe I take you around the city?”

You couldn't help but smile at his earnest. "What, like right now?"

He shrugged and nodded, "If you want? If you have the time."

"Sure, why not." You accepted easily. "I'd love to."

You glance at the team, ignoring Jannik and the way he had gone stone-faced. “I’ll see you all later.”

They smiled and waved you off, and even gave the waiter a too-strong pat on the back—a warning no doubt. You didn’t spare Jannik another glance as you walked off.

---

Jannik didn’t sulk. At least, that’s what he told himself. He was not sulking.

But even he had to admit, sitting in the team’s shared hotel suite while staring blankly at his phone while the rest of the team watched a movie, he probably looked a little sulky. His mind was elsewhere, tracing over the way you had smiled at the waiter, the way you had walked away with him.

“Mate,” Darren finally sighed, switching off the TV and leaning back in his chair with arms crossed. “I think it’s time you ask yourself why this is bothering you so much.”

Jannik frowned, ready to argue, but Uli cut in. “Yeah—don't be an idiot.”

Simone, who was getting up to leave for his room, gently hit him upside the head.

Jannik huffed, shaking his head. “I don’t—” He stopped himself. The words I don’t care felt hollow, even to him.

No one argued further. They just let him stew in his thoughts. Eventually, one by one, they filtered out for the night, leaving Jannik alone.

He didn’t know how long he sat there before he heard the door to the suite open. He looked up to see you walking in, looking flushed and giddy from the night out. You stopped short when you saw him, a flicker of residual anger crossing your face before you exhaled and shook your head.

“I’m not letting you ruin my mood,” you said immediately, pointing at him. “I had too good a time to let you get to me.”

He opened his mouth, but you were already turning to head toward your room.

“Wait, please.” he said, standing abruptly. His voice was soft, sincere in a way that made you pause. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, still facing your door, before finally exhaling. You pushed it open and gestured for him to follow. “Fine, whatever.”

Inside, you leaned against the dresser, arms crossed. He lingered by the door, shifting his weight. The hesitation was unlike him, and you raised a brow. “Well? What is it, Jan?”

Jannik ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I was an ass before,” he admitted. “And I'm sorry. I got pissed and I—I think I was jealous.”

Your expression didn’t shift, but you know he saw the way your fingers curled slightly at your sides. He pushed forward, voice quieter now. “And I think—no, I know—it’s because I have feelings for you.”

Silence stretched between you. For a moment, he thought maybe you hadn’t heard him. Until, suddenly, you let out a dry, bitter laugh.

“Oh, now you have feelings for me?” you snapped, pushing off the dresser and throwing your hands in the air in disbelief. “When I’ve spent all this time pining after you, waiting and hoping—while you act the way you do to me like it's nothing? But now, the second I go on a date and have a nice time, you decide it was actually something?”

Jannik’s mouth opened, but he didn’t have a response. He could only follow as you led him to the door, swinging it open.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered. “Go to bed, Jannik.”

The door shut in his face before he could process what had happened.

---

He barely slept.

The frustration, the sadness, the regret—he didn’t know what to do with it. He had thought admitting his feelings would be enough. But clearly, he had missed something. He had hurt you, even when he had never meant to. And now, he wasn't sure if he had gone and ruined everything.

A knock at his door woke him. He blinked blearily, disoriented, and dragged himself up to answer it.

It was you.

Still in your night clothes, hair slightly frizzy—and in spite of the night before, Jannik only wanted to smile at the sight of you. His finger itched to fix the few stray strands of hair displaced from the part of your hair. You always were the favorite part of his day, it just might have taken too long for him to realize.

You crossed your arms and pushed past him, letting yourself in with a small sigh.

“I shouldn’t have blown up like that,” you admitted, shifting on your feet. “I needed to get it out of my system. But... you should know, I— I do have feelings for you. And I have for a long while.”

His stomach flipped. He stayed silent, waiting, as you met his gaze steadily.

“But if we do this,” you continued, voice firm, “we start slow. We’re intentional. I’m not doing… whatever that was again, and I won't let myself be led on.”

He nodded immediately. “I have to earn you.”

Something softened in your expression, he always was too sweet for his own good. You took a small step forward and shrugged. “Yeah,” you murmured. “You do.”

Then, to his surprise, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He barely had time to register the warmth before you pulled back, watching his reaction with an amused look.

His lips curled into a slow grin, one that was playful and a little relieved. “So,” he said, tilting his head. “Can I take you out tonight?”

You hummed, pretending to consider it. “Mmm… I might be able to fit you in, but I have another date with the waiter.”

His smile faltered, brows furrowing slightly with something in between panic and disbelief.

You laughed, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Relax, I’m kidding.”

He exhaled in relief before his grin returned, wider this time. He caught your hand as you drew it away from his face and checked once more, anyways. “So you're free? You accept?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling away from his grasp, but the way you smiled told him everything he needed to know.

---

Thought about splitting this into parts, then was like nah eff that and so here we are: a longer one-shot. Hope you enjoyed today's fic xx

[leggerefiore]

Can I request how the dead inside trio (fuck it, giovanni too) would prepare for valentines? I have a deep craving for sweet old men 🙏❤️❤️

since cy is from sinnoh and gio is from kanto, Valentine's is a bit different over there... I tried

cw: Valentine's Day fluff,

characters: Nanu, Larry, Cyrus, Giovanni

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 He really had not an urge to do anything for Valentine’s Day… The day simply held nothing positive for him. Even with a partner, he felt it useless to engage in something so corporate for his lover. They can get gifts for each other any day of the year – Why fixate on a specific date? Even so, despite his disinterest, Acerola seemed insistent. The girl babbled to him about how important it is to show he cares. While he wanted to roll his eyes and ignore her words, those big eyes made him reconsider. Honestly, he hated that he simply could not be mean to her. So, he found himself walking off and working on plans.

🌑 Chocolates were easy enough to obtain as they were being sold literally anywhere. He cared not for specifics, so he just grabbed whatever seemed the nicest. Flowers… Well, being connected to a fertility deity has its benefits every so often. Tapu Bulu actually was ecstatic to see him, so a request for some flowers was answered with a familiar white species. Nanu grumbled, recognising them. Well, he could not exactly complain without risking angering a capricious deity, so he took them. Lastly, a date… He sighed. Ula'Ula was certainly scenic and seen as a romantic place to visit, but living there ruined that image in his mind. What was there to do? Every restaurant was booked, and the Malie Garden would be absolutely packed. There had to be a place with some privacy…

🌑 The black sands of the beach on Route 14 frequently caught the eyes of many visitors, but the ruined store tended to ward them off. No one wanted to piss off a guardian deity, really. Nanu knew the pokemon would not care too much for you both lingering on its sacred land. The waves lapped at the shore as he glanced at you. It was not exactly the most romantic activity, but Nanu found himself fine with it. You leaned against him as he grasped the wrapped chocolates. The flowers were a success when he gifted to them earlier. Your comment about it being a wedding bouquet did make him swallow his heart. He sighed as the setting sun shined on the horizon. Handing off the chocolates, he grasped your hand. “… Happy Valentine's Day,” his voice was a low mumble, still not really interested in the holiday, “Sorry for the shitty date—” You kissing him cut him off. Apparently, you quite enjoyed his attempt at romance.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 The holiday held little meaning to the businessman. While most of his coworkers rushed to get off and make plans for it, Larry simply worked on the extra workload that his boss seemed to enjoy dumping on him. Though, his plans for that year had a wrench in them. Rika lingered above his desk, watching him curiously. He could not tell what was on the woman's mind. Well, until she finally asked him what his plans were with his partner. He blinked. A simple answer of nothing apparently offended her. A hand came down on his desk as she insisted he do something, even offering to cover his work. It caught him off-guard. An attempt to reject the offer was met with the green-haired woman growing more demanding. She even involved Hassel, who seemed horrified at Larry's actions. He was basically chased out of the office.

🍙 So, he sighed. It seemed that this was happening. Many years had passed since he last put any energy into Valentine’s Day. He popped into a corner store to pick up a box of chocolates and a card. He sighed. Flowers were also a smart idea, but… There was no way to get any this late into the game. He opted to just focus on trying to get a table at a restaurant. Most had to be completely booked out, but the Treasure Eatery was more than happy to accommodate him. In fact, they were more shocked than anything that he called ahead to reserve anything since they usually kept a spot open just for him. He was not overly sure how that made him feel. A quick call to you led to an agreement to meet him there. There was a momentary debate of whether he should change clothes, but he opted against it.

🍙 You joining him at the table led to an awkward moment of silence as he presented the card and chocolates with little fanfare. There was a moment of bewilderment towards the actions, but you took the chocolates nonetheless. The restaurant was packed with couples, clearly trying to have a romantic evening. Larry felt completely out of his element. The card was a simple one with an Oricorio on it saying something, making one's heart dance like one. Your smile made his cheeks burn. He did not it expect you to actually enjoy it. “Happy Valentine's Day…” his voice was careful, “I apologise if this is not adequate enough—” You leaning in for a kiss silenced him. An assurance that this was enough made him relax. The evening went far better than he expected.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ The Galactic Boss barely had noticed the holiday approaching. He simply felt no need to keep up with such trivial things while he was working on his plans. However, he did notice that his grunts were requesting time off while Mars seemed to babble about something that he did not care to listen to. His frustration was piling due to this, but he was caught off-guard at the red-head entering his office and asking him what he was doing for the holiday since he was apparently in a relationship. He bit his tongue. The urge to tell her off about prying into his personal life was interrupted by him blinking. His… relationship. Right, this was the time for women to give gifts to the important people in their lives. He groaned. Suddenly, he realised that he needed to take off from work at a reasonable time. Upsetting you was the last thing that he wanted to do.

☄️ While it was not typical for men to do anything, he felt the urge to do something to make up for any possible distress. A simple reservation at a restaurant seemed sufficient enough, but he still felt worried at the thought of failing to please you. So, he found himself trailing to a florist when he managed to finally free himself from work. Flowers were romantic enough, were they not? He struggled to pick any due to his uncertainty. The clerk seemed to take pity on him – the typical rose bouquet felt too common and apathetic for him. Yet, somehow, a certain kind of flower caught his eye. A purchase was made, and he headed home. This seemed more than enough to make up for any possible upset.

☄️ Unsurprisingly, he was greeted by chocolates when he came home. They were homemade and shaped by like the various forms of Rotom. He felt shocked by your dedication and relieved that he had done so much in return. The offer of dinner seemed to perk you up even more. He had booked the nicest restaurant in the area, after all. Though, his surprise of a sunflower bouquet also shocked you. The flowers gently brought a delicate warmth with their presence. You thanked him for such a thoughtful gift. While you held the bouquet to yourself, he opted to speak. “Happy Valentine's Day…” his voice was low and deep, “I apologise for being home so late.” Your hug and a peck to his cheek calmed him. As long as you were happy.

🚀Giovanni🐈

🟥 Valentine's Day… Giovanni would often receive many gifts. He certainly was a desired man, after all. Honestly, he was not the biggest fan of chocolates, but the attention fed his ego just right. Now, he was fully aware the holiday was celebrated differently all over. In Kanto, it was a time for women to gift chocolates to the men in their life. In somewhere like, say, Unova or Kalos, though, it was a mutual holiday with more expectation on the man. He felt himself debating whether he should obligate his partner like what they would expect from their culture… Really, he supposed it would be something different from the typical day of being showered in gifts from those desperate for his attention.

🟥 Chocolates were the typical gift for the holiday. He found himself in a premier chocolatier, debating just what his partner may enjoy. A variety seemed best. The price was certainly steep, but it was not as if he failed to have money to throw around. The chocolates were delicately wrapped in a scarlet box as he pondered what was next. Flowers were a common gift overseas. Roses, specifically. He quite found the idea of bouquet red roses enchanting. A stop at a florist provided his next gift. The flowers drove a high price again, but he once again found himself apathetic. Lastly, a location. A simple call to a preferred restaurant got him a private room that evening without question. Honestly, it was easy enough.

🟥 He had his driver bring you to him as he waited at the restaurant. His attire was far nicer than his typical suit. You were shocked as you stepped out of the car. A box of chocolates was in your hands. An exchange was made as you handed off your gifts for one another. Your reaction to the expensive chocolates left him smug. Yours for him were clearly homemade. He would appreciate the dedication. The shapes of a rocket and Persians left him entertained at least. Your arm was interlocked with his as he led you to the reserved area of the restaurant. “Happy Valentine's Day,” his voice was confident and proud, “… I have more planned for this evening.” Your reaction to that had him chuckle. He felt that he enjoyed celebrating like this all the same.

[charliedawn]

HUNT THE FREAK

Eddie Munson x Teacher!Reader

Part 2

The Next Day

You weren’t sure if Eddie would actually show up to class. From what you had heard from other teachers, the boy was infamous for skipping, and after yesterday’s revelation, you half expected him to pretend you didn’t exist for the rest of the semester.

So, when third period rolled around, you were only mildly surprised to find his seat empty.

What did surprise you, however, was the way he suddenly appeared at your classroom door twenty minutes late, clutching a crumpled excuse note that you were pretty sure he had written himself.

You crossed your arms, giving him a look. “Mr. Munson.”

Eddie grinned like he hadn’t just waltzed in mid-lesson. “Miss Not-A-Student,” he shot back with a knowing grin, wiggling his eyebrows. He then chuckled as he approached you slowly. You were left stunned at something you had failed to notice before. The boy was TALL. Not impressively tall, but tall enough to look down at you and grin as if he had won at some form of game he exclusively knew the rules of.

You bristled internally.

How dared he ?!

The class stared.

Of course they did. You were the new teacher, and Eddie Munson—the school’s resident freak, drug dealer, and local nuisance—was standing before you, acting like you were old friends.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Take a seat, Eddie.”

He grinned, flipping a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

With that, he strutted to his desk, dropping into his seat with all the dramatics of a rockstar finishing a solo.

You took a steadying breath before turning back to the board…This was going to be a long class.

From Eddie’s perspective:

Eddie had spent the day goofing off with his friends, as was his usual schedule. But, he had then suddenly remembered you and reluctantly made his way to your classroom.

The class was a mess. There were a lot of people running around and throwing things. You were trying your best to calm them down, but it was difficult for you and you tried to get everyone to listen.

"Please. No. Do not hurt each other. Brandon. Do not throw things in class. Emily. Put your phone away."

He quickly took in the state of your classroom and raised an eyebrow. Jesus…these kids were rowdy. He stood by the door as he watched you desperately try to control the class, chuckling softly and shaking his head.

Suddenly, one of the students gasped as he saw Munson.

"It’s the freak !"

Everyone stopped and you turned towards the door. You seemed surprised as well when he came in and brought you that piece of garbage he had obviously falsified. He had been ready to leave the second the kid called him a freak, but he stayed when you smiled.

"Take a seat, Eddie."

He looked around. The only available seat was on front row. He smiled. Perfect…

"Sure."

He walked over and sat down in his usual manner, slouching and looking around. He was definitely not in his comfort zone…But he then smirked and rolled his eyes as the other students started whispering and calling him freak behind his back. Typical high school. He raised an eyebrow before looking back at them.

"Try paying attention, guys. Don’t wanna end up like little old me, do you ?"

Eddie stuck his tongue out at the one who called him a freak first before turning his attention back to you.

You sighed. "Right. Thank you for coming, Mister Munson. Hum…Anyone read Of Mice and Men or Much Ado About Nothing ?"

The class sat silently, staring at you or at the ceiling. You wanted to walk out and scream at the walls. Clearly, no one had read anything. That was not surprising. You shook your head. Right…

But then, a voice from heaven spoke up.

"Of Mice and Men…That’s the one with the guy and the rabbit, right ?" One of the students said, clearly having not read the book, but at least having read the back cover—probably.

You seemed happy that at least one person knew the book and nodded vividly.

"Yes ! Now…" You looked down at the worn out book in your hands. "Of Mice and Men is a book written by John Steinbeck. It is about two men who are travelling to find work in 1937. Do you have any idea what happened in the 1930s ? Very important period in your history."

The class was once again filled with silence. No one said anything. However, one brave soul raised their hand and said something.

"Uhm…The Great Depression ? Isn’t that when it happened ?"

You smiled.

"Exactly. It forced a lot of people to move to find jobs, but it was very difficult because there was a rise of unemployment, a lack of actual stable jobs and a lot of poverty. Do you know what created the Great Depression ?"

Silence again. They all looked at each other with confused looks before some started whispering.

"Guys, what caused the Great Depression ?"

"Uh…was it a war ?"

"No, you idiot…wasn’t it the…something crisis ? Stock market ?"

"The stock market crash ! That’s it !"

You beamed. “Yes ! Alright ! You are all on fire today ! The stock market crashed in 1929. Throughout the 1920s, stock prices skyrocketed as people invested heavily, often with borrowed money. But this created an unsustainable bubble. Industries were producing more than people could afford, leading to surplus goods, financial instability, and mass unemployment. Banks gave risky loans and weren’t prepared for the fallout. And, most of the wealth was concentrated in a small percentage of people, which meant the economy wasn’t as stable as it seemed.”

You let the information settle and wrote the key elements on the board before continuing.

“This is what sets the backdrop for Of Mice and Men. Our protagonists, George and Lennie, are just two of the thousands of people struggling to find stability in this era.”

Eddie leaned forward slightly, watching you. You had a weird way of explaining things—not like you were lecturing, but more like you were actually talking to them. Like you weren’t just spitting out facts but telling a story.

He liked that.

For the first time in years, Eddie actually felt himself listening in class.

The class nodded along, surprisingly engaged. Eddie, however, was more focused on you than the lesson itself. He hadn’t expected to care about a discussion on Of Mice and Men, yet here he was, leaning forward, watching you intently. There was something about the way you spoke—how your eyes lit up, how your hands moved as you explained things—that made it hard to look away.

With a smirk, he raised his hand.

You immediately perked up.

"Right. Question. Go ahead, Mister Munson."

His lips twitched as he met your gaze. "You said the Great Depression was the backdrop of the novel, shaping the protagonists' struggles. But wasn’t that struggle something nearly everyone at the time had experienced ? Wouldn’t that make the book even more impactful when it was first published ?"

Your smile grew. YES ! Yes.

"Exactly ! The novel was released in 1937, right in the middle of that hardship, so readers could see themselves in George and Lennie. It wasn’t just fiction—it was a reflection of their reality. That’s why it resonated so much and continues to be studied today."

Eddie nodded, letting the thought sink in. He knew Of Mice and Men was considered a classic, but he’d never really thought about why. For once, he actually wanted to keep listening. He liked seeing people get excited about the things they loved.

"Huh…yeah, that makes sense." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "So why'd you pick Of Mice and Men for this lesson ?"

You beamed, clearly pleased by his curiosity.

"Good question, Mister Munson. This novel is about dreams—how fragile they are, how hard they are to reach. It’s tragic, but it also makes you reflect on your own ambitions. What do you want ? How badly do you want it ? And what are you willing to do to achieve it ? That’s why I chose it. I hope you’ll all give it a chance and read at least the first few chapters before next class."

Eddie tilted his head, considering your words. He wasn’t expecting to care, but damn…now he kind of wanted to.

"George and Lennie do seem relatable," he admitted, a slow smirk forming. "But—" He shifted in his seat, eyes glinting with amusement. "Who’s your favorite character ?"

You chuckled.

"Read the book and I’ll tell you. Wouldn’t want to spoil anything."

He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. ‘Clever. You want people to be invested.’

"Alright, alright…I’ll read it."

You smiled, pleased to have at least one student interested.

"Great. Class dismissed. And do me a favor—while you’re reading, think about your own dreams. Put yourself in the shoes of the protagonists. Ask yourself how determined you are to achieve them."

Eddie watched as the students rushed for the door, eager to leave. He, on the other hand, lingered. With no more classes left to ditch, what was the harm in sticking around ?

Slowly, he stood and sauntered toward you, hands in his pockets. You were erasing the board. He had taken absolutely NO notes. But he considered doing that—even though half of the information would probably never stick. He gave you a quick once over…Not bad for a teacher.

When you turned around, he quickly pretended he was looking elsewhere and smiled.

"So…I’m assuming you’ll be wanting a reading report from me, teach ?"

You raised a brow.

"Mister Munson… shouldn’t you be heading to your next class ? You’ll be late."

He shrugged, leaning against your desk, arms crossed.

"I don’t have any."

Then, with a smirk, he tilted his head and added,

"Besides, I like your class best anyway."

You smiled. “Well, that is very kind of you to say. I am glad you decided to join us.”

Eddie smirked, his eyes flicking to the door before returning to you.

"Well, I figured it’d be more interesting than whatever else I could be doing." He paused for a moment, his usual mischievous glint softening slightly. "Plus, you make it hard to leave."

You tilted your head back at him. "Mister Munson. May I ask you a question ?"

He smiled. "Shoot. I love talking. What is it ?"

You seemed hesitant before asking. "Don’t you have a dream ? When you eventually leave Hawkins High…What are you going to do ?"

He paused for a minute, contemplating your question. Of course he had a dream, but…was there even a point in talking about it and getting himself hopeful ? He shrugged, the smirk fading and a look of almost…sadness replaced it. "I dream about…a lot of things. None of which I’ll be able to achieve though."

You smiled and grabbed your book before playfully swapping it down on his head. "Now now…Don’t you know, Mister Munson ? Ain’t No Mountain High Enough…"

He grimaced, rubbing his head where you’d slapped it. "Hey, watch it !"

He quickly grabbed the cover of your book before you had the time to bring it down a second time, a smirk on his face. "And don’t quote Marvin Gaye at me. It’s weird coming from a teacher’s mouth."

You chuckled softly, holding the book out of his reach just a bit longer.

"Well, Mister Munson, sometimes a little bit of Marvin Gaye is all we need to remind us that anything’s possible." You winked playfully. "And who says a teacher can’t be a little weird ? Keeps things interesting."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, still smirking as he let go of the book.

"Yeah, you’re definitely an interesting one. But hey, I’ll take it." He leaned back, his earlier hint of sadness now masked by his usual cocky demeanor. "Guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you to see if you really believe all that ‘No Mountain High Enough’ stuff."

You smiled, watching as his guard seemed to stay down a bit longer than usual. "You might be surprised, Mister Munson."

You then smiled and released the book in his hand. "Here. A gift. I even made little notes on the side."

His eyes widened significantly, taking the book in his hands and looking at the scribbles you had made on it. "Seriously ? You’re giving me your personal copy ?"

You nodded and smiled. "I trust you with it, Mister Munson. I know that you will make good use of it. Now off you go…"

He chuckled, shaking his head. No one had ever given him this much trust before. It made him almost feel…special. "Alright, alright, teach." He tucked the book under his arm before pausing for a moment. "Actually…I have a question of my own."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Yes ?"

He seemed nervous for a moment before leaning his hip against your desk and looking at you. "You don’t believe all that crap about me, do you ?"

"…What crap, Mister Munson ?" You frowned.

He shrugged, his usual smirk appearing on his face. "Oh y’know…all the things they say about me. Freak. Weirdo. Devil worshiper."

You looked at him—your expression serious. "…Mister Munson. My opinion is firm on the matter. You. Are. A. Student."

He was a bit taken aback by your seriousness. He’d been expecting you to make fun of him for being called such names. But you didn’t—you actually…defended him from gossip and the reputation the whole town had given him. He looked down and let out a scoff. "You’re the only one who’s ever said that."

You shrugged. "…Doesn’t matter. The ones who judge without knowing or alight with the want for learning about another person from their own perception are of no value to you, to me or anyone of great importance."

He hummed, nodding a bit as he let your words sink in. It was odd, having someone who believed he had some good to him. He wasn’t so used to it, but…he found himself liking it. He looked back up at you, the smirk returning to his face. "That’s an interesting way of saying people are assholes."

You smiled weakly at him. "I do not wish to lower myself to a level I abhor."

Eddie chuckled, his smirk softening as he looked at you, appreciating the way you didn’t just throw him into the usual box everyone else had. There was something different about you—something a little crazy.

"Well, if you're not gonna call 'em assholes, I guess I'll do it for you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. "You’re quite the gentleman, Mister Munson."

"Yeah, I’m a real charmer." He gave you a wink before pushing off the desk and straightening up. "Alright, well…guess I better go before I’m late for whatever’s next on my agenda." He adjusted the book under his arm, giving you a small nod. "Thanks, teach. I’ll read it, for real."

You smiled, watching him head toward the door. "Take care, Mister Munson."

He paused just before leaving, turning back to give you one last look. "I’ll try not to disappoint you."

With that, he was gone—leaving you with a small hopeful smile on your face…Well, that definitely went better than expected.

[jellychannie]

Love Is In The Air...!

jellychannie's (late) Valentine's Special

ft. Nagi Seishiro, Michael Kaiser, Yukimiya Kenyu, Otoya Eita

A Blue Lock Valentine’s day special.

High school! AU, valentine’s events, Yukimiya is part of the student government, perhaps these can be all interconnected, GN! Reader, fluff, sweet highschool cliches, not proofread, some may be ooc

wc: 1012 words, about 200 each

note: this is how i cope after i sent an anonymous letter to my crush-- but i think he most definitely knows who sent it

NAGI SEISHIRO

“This… is for me?”

In which Nagi receives his first ever box of chocolates—from you, an admirer.

–.・゜゜・

Nagi was a boring guy, multiple others would say. Sleeps during class, plays too many games, and is way too reserved. And so, he ended up rather lowkey in a sea of people despite his height.

Sure, he has Reo– who does everything with him. But even with Reo, he’s just some tall dude who sleeps more than he studies. 

That is, until you came into the picture. 

February 14th was when your flushed face caught his gaze, a box of heart-shaped chocolates and a rose in your outstretched hands. You avoided his eyes while awkwardly feeling multiple stares on your back.

“Y-you don’t have to take it—but this—I mean it!” You managed to sputter out. Nagi stood in front of you, about to sigh out until your gaze met his all of a sudden. He saw the way they widened and flicked away. His brain churned, and he soon let out a little huff.

What you didn’t expect is that he took the box from you and mumbled, “what a bother,” while opening it up. You looked at him in shock as he took one and put it in his mouth. 

“This is okay…”

MICHAEL KAISER

“National, are we?”

Set up with your rival in a ‘tied to you’ event

-.・゜゜・

Squeals filled your ears in the distance and when you approached the commotion, you were suddenly dragged into the crowd. At the light, you were met with a very familiar pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The same pair you absolutely loathed. 

It would’ve been okay if you could just pay the cancellation fee—but you just spent the last of your money on those damn delicious cookies from some stalls in the campus. It would’ve been okay, but it wasn’t.

Much more when you two were situated in the middle of the school grounds, tied to the flagpole. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment when the ribbon on your wrist tightened, and you had to face this person.

He was holding an umbrella, a smug look on his face, yet the tips of his ears were tinted in a light red. “Guess the flagpole isn’t too bad,” he mused out, looking up at the sun, before at you.

You grumbled, huffing. This was going to be a grueling 10 minutes with Michael Kaiser.

YUKIMIYA KENYU

“Just Married.”

Getting married to Kenyu in a marriage booth.

-.・゜゜・

“I’ll pay for it, I swear,” he begged you, his glasses glinting in the sun. Your boyfriend was a good guy, but you didn’t expect him to suddenly mention the topic of getting married— in a school Valentine’s booth. 

He’s the sweetest guy ever, and his polite stature always had you melting. And who were you to refuse something from him? It was a school event, not a civil thing at all. At least, in some way you could say he was definitely committed to you.

And he stays true to his words, too. You soon found yourself standing right in front of him, seeing the proud smile on his lips. It was almost as if you two were actually getting married. 

A string of red yarn looped around both of your ring fingers, paper flowers in hand, and a makeshift veil on his head. Someone had to wear the veil, anyway. He was happy enough to do anything for you now.

“You may now share kisses, hugs, or a high-five,” the (also student) officiator said through the mic. Yukimiya looked at you, before wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug. 

Just married to Yukimiya Kenyu.

OTOYA EITA

“Hey there…”

Eita approaches you, one of the student photographers for the event.

-.・゜゜・

The umpteenth photo of couples tied together by ribbons. You were looking for another subject when Eita came across you, obstructing the view on your lens.

“What you’re doing is boring,” he mumbled, leaning in close to your camera. He wore a nonchalant expression, whatever going on in his head was unreadable. He caught you by surprise when he put his hand on top of yours which held the camera. 

“Can you teach me?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes became visible to your gaze. You would, if he wasn’t too close. You stepped away, only for him to follow.

He stood in front of you, a humble distance from you, “just a picture, please?” oh now he was pleading, an attempt of puppy dog eyes and his hands clasped together. 

While things didn’t go as planned, he did manage to get a free mini photoshoot from you. Guess you’ll catch him in the next event, this time with a better plan.

BAROU SHOEI

“Tis’ some good food.”

A little shared lunch with Barou on hearts day.

-.・゜゜・

Barou appeared grumpy as he leaned against the doorway of your classroom. But at the sight of you, his gaze softened the slightest bit only visible to you.

“Let’s eat together,” he mumbled, placing down a well wrapped bento on your desk before sitting down on the vacant one next to you. A few squeals erupted from the few classmates in the room, with one of them saying you two were eyesores.

But your eyes were never sore with him, after all. You unwrapped the bento, opening the container to see an appetizing meal in front of you. Ample sized beef slices, a serving of greens, and a humble amount of rice. Barou always made your lunches—he insisted when you two started dating, saying that it was only what he needed to do. 

You said your thanks, before digging into your meal. He ate his own lunch, his gaze fixed on you and how you reacted to each dish. You were even too focused on savoring the taste to even notice the heart-shaped box beside the bento container. 

It was simple, a little shared lunch you two shared everyday, with a little twist for today. Perhaps later, he might consider marrying you at one of the booths.