#the holidays were his favorite time of year

[itelya]

synopsis: valentines day with your boyfriend/husband.

character [separate]: Nanami Kento x reader, Gojo Satoru x reader, Suguru Geto x reader, Toji Fushiguro x reader, Sukuna Ryomen x reader, soo cute! Choso Kamo x reader, Megumi Fushiguro x reader, Yuji Itadori x reader (fem!)

warning: love and short srry 💗… don't be mad at me for what i did for Toji😓

words: 2690.

Kento N.

Nanami wasn’t really the type to celebrate Valentine’s Day. To him, this day was a “commercial holiday,” an artificial opportunity to prove his love. He believed that love was built on a daily basis, in simple gestures and small attentions. So, you thought you would spend a quiet evening, like every year.

But when you returned home that night, you were surprised. The house was enveloped in a soft and warm atmosphere: candles lit everywhere, soft lighting, a nicely set table with elegant plates and a bouquet of flowers. Dinner was ready, a dish that Nanami had carefully prepared himself, accompanied by your favorite wine.

“It’s not much,” he said as he joined you in the room, a discreet smile on his lips. “But I thought it would be nice to spend some time together.”

You looked at him, touched by the attention he had put into this dinner. This gesture means much more to you than anything else. You spent a quiet evening, full of laughter, tender conversations and shared silences, as if this dinner was a simple and sincere way of saying "I love you".

When dessert was served, he placed his hand on yours, his gaze tender but discreet. "I know Valentine's Day doesn't mean much to us, but I wanted to show you how much you mean to me," he said softly. "With this moment together. Because with you, every day is a bit like Valentine's Day."

Moved, you smiled at him, squeezing his hand in yours. After a few seconds of comfortable silence, you got up to clear the table. Then, as you found yourself upstairs, Nanami turned to you with a slight smile. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love," he whispered, before kissing you softly.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ken,” you replied, touched by the sincerity of his words more than any gesture. And in that simplicity, you felt more loved than ever.

Gojo S.

The sun is barely rising when Gojo arrives at your door, a mischievous smile on his face. Before you can even react, he grabs your hand and whisks you away on a memorable day, where every minute seems more absurd than the last.

First stop: a private helicopter, a flight over Tokyo. The wind whips your face as you fly over the city illuminated by the first rays of the sun. You hold on to the helm, your heart pounding, a mixture of pleasure and terror.

Gojo, for his part, laughs as he sees you hanging on, his face like a permanent challenge. “It’s nothing, just relax!” he assures you, but you know he loves seeing you out of your comfort zone.

The highlight of the show comes when he drags you into an impromptu photo shoot. In the middle of the street, under the neon lights and curious glances of passersby, Gojo strikes ridiculous poses while making you laugh. Then, without warning, he takes a picture of you up close, capturing the moment when you let yourself go into a genuine smile.

Finally, Gojo takes you to the roof of a skyscraper, the breathtaking view of the city all around you, illuminated by sparkling fairy lights. The cool wind makes you shiver, but he keeps you close to him, a smirk on his face.

“So?” he asks, leaning a little closer to you, his mischievous eyes scrutinizing you with an almost childish amusement. “What was the best part of the day?”

You look at him, rolling your eyes as you smile. You know he’s expecting an extravagant answer. So, you lean down and kiss him briefly, just enough to surprise him.

“I’ll say.. everything was great, but the helicopter ride… I thought I was going to throw up. Never again please.”

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head, and pulls you into his arms. “It’s all you,” he says, pulling you closer, before catching your lips in a slow but passionate kiss. Time seems to stop for a moment, the sounds of the distant city drowned out by the intensity of his kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he whispers against your lips, a satisfied smile on his face. He holds you tighter in his arms, and you let yourself go with the magic of the moment.

Geto S.

The night is quiet on this Valentine’s night, and the atmosphere in your apartment is softer than usual. The wind blowing lightly against the windows lets you hear a distant murmur of the couples outside.

Geto comes home with your spare keys and silently places a small box of chocolates in your hands, before settling down next to you on the couch.

You turn your gaze to him. He says nothing, his eyes drowned in a discreet embarrassment, as if each word he was going to say was weighed carefully.

He takes a moment to look at the box in your hands before slowly turning it away, a slight smile growing at the corner of his lips. “I’m not really good at this kind of thing,” he murmurs. He almost seems to hesitate, embarrassed by the simplicity of the gesture, but nevertheless, his eyes shine with a touching sincerity.

His fingers slide almost imperceptibly on your skin, a silent caress. A small smile forms on his face, a smile that seems to come straight from a bygone era, where he was still able to believe in a quiet love, without pain or torment.

“You know… if we were somewhere else, in another life,” he begins, his voice soft but marked by an indecipherable depth, “I think I would have wanted to take you away from here.” He lets out a soft sigh, as if this impossible wish came from another reality.

He takes a short breath, then, with an almost imperceptible gesture, he hands you the rose he has placed next to him. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, almost in a low voice, as if there is more to those words than what they seem to be. You smile at him tenderly and lean towards him, then kiss him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day too, Geto.”

Toji F.

If you bet on the fact that Toji Fushiguro would have forgotten that it’s Valentine’s Day. And honestly, it wouldn’t even be a surprise. This guy is the type to disappear for days, come back like a shadow without warning even though he’s your boyfriend. Then drag you to your bed with a smirk and leave like nothing happened but you still love him like an idiot.

So a commercial holiday? Spending money? Might as well forget it. That’s why, when he hands you a small paper bag, you blink in surprise.

“Here.”

“…What?”

He sighs, already looking annoyed. “Tch. Just take it.” You grab the package warily and look inside. A frown. “…Toji. It’s instant noodles.”

“And?” He smiles like there’s no problem and raises an eyebrow at your surprised expression. “You’re offering me… noodles?”

“You like them, right?” He raises an eyebrow, as if it’s obvious. You stand there, between incomprehension and amusement, before bursting out laughing. “Are you serious, Toji?”

“Listen, would you have preferred that I blow my money on useless crap? A heart-shaped necklace, maybe?” He snickers, crossing his arms. “I know you. I know you always forget to buy more when you run out. So yeah, it’s a gift. Take it and shut up.”

You shake your head, still laughing, and grab the collar of his jacket to pull him towards you. “You really are an idiot, Toji.”

“And you’re still here, stupid lover,” he replies, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. Ultimately, it suits you. Because Toji, even with his questionable ways, thinks of you in his own way. And deep down, that’s all that matters.

Sukuna R.

Valentine’s Day, you didn’t expect it. As Sukuna’s wife, you were used to displays of power rather than tender gestures. But on this day, something seemed different. As you prepared yourself in your chambers, you felt a familial presence slip into the room without making a sound.

Sukuna, in all his majesty, looked at you with a different glow than usual. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my queen,” he said in a deep voice, his imposing royal posture even more respectful, but there was an unusual softness in his words.

He approached you, an almost imperceptible kiss on his lips, and in his hands, a shiny object: a necklace adorned with precious stones the color of his rare eyes and a secret inscription.

The gesture surprised you, more than you would have imagined. The king of curses offering a gift, and yet, the intention behind it was clear. This necklace wasn’t just a gift; it was a token of his possession, but in a subtle way. He holds it out in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror of your dressing table, as if to make sure you like this necklace.

“This necklace is a sign,” he murmured as he brushed his fingers over your neck, gently sliding the jewel around you. “A sign that you are mine. No one else can ever claim you.” Okay baby?"

A shadow of a smile appeared on his face, but he didn't seem to want to let go of his gaze, as if he was trying to make sure that you understood the depth of his words. Then he closed the clasp of the necklace.

His hands slowly slid into your hair, your eyes meeting his. He was still this ruthless king, but today, there was something more tender, a form of sincere love that seemed rare to you.

"Thank you so much Suku, it's so beautiful.. Happy Valentine's Day, my love," you said, you smiled at him tenderly. He then leaned down, his lips gently brushing your ear, the contact light but loaded with that imposing presence that characterized him.

While being possessive, he wasn't trying to smother you, but to remind you that, for him, you were everything to him. He's just crazy in love.

Choso K.

You see the surprise in Choso’s eyes as you hand him the carefully prepared box of chocolates. He seems both surprised and a little hesitant. “Is this… for me?” He looks at you, as if the very idea of ​​receiving something is a novelty.

You nod, a shy smile on your lips. “Yeah, for you. It’s… it’s for Valentine’s Day.” You feel a little nervous, but he makes you feel like it matters, that your gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

He takes a heart-shaped chocolate and brings it to his lips, his eyes closed for a moment, savoring the sweetness of the chocolate. Then, after a few seconds, he looks at you with a soft smile, almost a little embarrassed.

“It’s sweet… like you,” he says, and his cheeks blush slightly.

You laugh softly, feeling your cheeks blush. “It’s just chocolate, Choso.” But you can see in his eyes that it’s not that easy for him. It’s maybe the first time he’s received something like this, such a sincere, simple gesture, but so precious to him.

Then, in a shy burst, he leans towards you and places a kiss on your cheek, his warmth melting you. “Thank you,” he murmurs, almost in a breath. “Really.”

You look at him, a smile that doesn’t leave your lips. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Choso. I’m glad to have you as a boyfriend.” He stays there for a moment, his eyes locked on yours, before answering with a sincerity that touches you deeply:

“Me too. Really.” His hands gently rest on your shoulders, as if to pull you a little closer to him. “I’ve never had a gift. It’s- it’s a little strange, but it makes me… feel good.”

You feel yourself melting under his words, his honesty and his sweetness. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, but never had the chance to experience. And you’re here to give him what he’s always deserved.

“You don’t have to say that, you know,” you whisper, gently caressing his hand. “I’m doing it because you deserve it, Choso.” He leans down again, this time to kiss you softly on the lips, a kiss that’s tender and full of promise. “Thanks for the chocolates, and happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

Megumi F.

Megumi has never been one to celebrate Valentine's Day. He finds it commercial, cliché... But when he sees the small box of chocolates that you hand him, your cheeks a little red, he can't help but feel touched. He takes the box with a slight sigh, but his gaze betrays his emotion.

"You didn't have to..." he murmurs, avoiding your gaze. However, he opens the box and takes a chocolate, the sweet taste contrasting with the heat that begins to rise to his cheeks.

"It's just chocolate, Megumi. Don't be so red." you answer, laughing softly. He just looks away and doesn't answer.

Then he looks at you for a moment before looking away, and after a moment of hesitation, he slips his hand into his coat pocket and hands you a small package. "Here... it's not much, but... Happy Valentine's Day."

When you open it, you discover a lucky charm in the shape of your pet almost with small accessories. You look up at him, surprised. "You say it's commercial, but did you still think to buy me something?"

Megumi crosses his arms, looking away. "Shut up," he whispers, red rising to his ears.

You can't help but smile at the obvious embarrassment on his face. Megumi, who spends his time playing indifferent, is blushing because of a simple gift exchange.

You turn the lucky charm between your fingers, admiring the details. He really took the time to choose something that would please you. Your heart squeezes gently at this thought.

"I like it a lot," you say as you attach the lucky charm to your bag. "Thank you, Megumi." A slight smile appears on his lips.

Yuji I.

Yuji, with his joyful and boundless energy, is determined to make this Valentine’s Day unforgettable, even if he’s not exactly an expert in traditions. From the moment you wake up, he surprises you with a carefully planned day:

A marathon of romantic movies—though you can tell he’s struggling not to laugh or roll his eyes at the overly cheesy scenes. A baking session where the two of you attempt to make homemade chocolates.

And finally, an evening stroll under the city lights, where Yuji impulsively insists on buying you a giant stuffed animal, just because he thinks it would make you smile.

As the day winds down, the sun dipping below the horizon, you both collapse onto a park bench, exhausted but happy. Laughter still bubbles between you as you recall the absolute disaster that was your chocolate-making attempt.

Yuji turns to you, his warm, sincere smile making your heart skip a beat, his eyes shining with an affection that needs no words.

“You know, I’m really glad I got to spend today with you,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was kinda worried I’d mess up Valentine’s Day, but honestly… this was amazing.”

Then, with an adorable hesitation, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, neatly wrapped package. “I made this myself, you know. It’s for you.” His voice is both proud and a little nervous, as if he’s not sure how you’ll react.

Curious, you carefully unwrap it, revealing a handmade bracelet, simple, yet crafted with care. You run your fingers over it, touched by the effort he put into it, a warm smile spreading across your lips. “It’s perfect, Yuji, really. And for your first Valentine’s Day… I have to say, you did an amazing job.”

His laughter rings out before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you completely. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N!”

You laugh softly, resting your head against his shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Yuji.” And in that moment, frozen in time, you know this day will stay with you forever.

any opinion is appreciated! thanks for reading till the end 💗

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[kumkaniudaku]

Mine

Summary: Happy Valentine's Day!

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut (18+)

Flurries of Valentine's candy grams and foil balloons filled Patrice's 3rd-period senior AP English classroom as she ran through a reflection question on August Wilson's Fences. While February was set aside for love, it was also the one time Mrs. Richmond was allowed to discuss Black literature in the school year without pushback from administration and parents alike. 

Just as pencils hit the paper to answer why Friday nights were significant for the play's central characters, a short beep and static filled the intercom system in the classroom. 

"Ms. Ellis -"

"It's Richmond," the class sang in chorus, earning a smile from Patrice. 

The voice on the other end chuckled before course-correcting. "Mrs. Richmond, we have a delivery in the front office for you. Do you want to come get it or send a student?" 

"Uh, I'll send someone down," Patrice answered. She pointed at her most responsible senior and silently directed him to grab the hall pass. "Can you say what it is? I didn't order anything." 

"Sorry. We're under strict instructions not to spoil the surprise." 

Terry. She didn't need additional explanation to figure out who'd taken time from their day to send a gift and request silence from strangers. He was cool as a cucumber when he left for work in the morning, but the uncharacteristic lilt in his voice on the way to a place he frequently expressed disdain towards was a dead giveaway he'd be dropping their promise to skip gifts and enjoy a quiet evening. 

Pregnancy and all its financial planning meant no money in reserves. No honeymoon, no big trips, and nothing extravagant for holidays. An unfortunate byproduct of looming parenthood on a modest income, but Patrice had made her peace with it all. They'd get the time back when Baby Richmond was old enough to spend a few days with their parents.

Anticipation collided with excitement as a bouquet of snowdrops and roses eclipsing her student's head was wheeled around the corner. Only her husband would commit seasonal flowers to memory from an offhanded conversation about rotating seeds in her garden for the spring. Whoever he'd paid to expertly arrange her winter staples into such a stunning display deserved their fair share of coins and then some. 

'Treece, Will you be mine?' scribbled in Terry's signature handwriting sat above a QR code on a small white card, eager for Patrice's attention once she got her hands around the ornate vase. 

"Mrs. Richmond got a valentiiine," one student teased to draw laughter from everyone in the room. 

That she did. It was her first in years and the one she'd longed for the whole time. She couldn't hide her smile when she took the final few minutes of reflection time to scan the code and watch her phone screen light up with another message after eagerly tapping the 'yes' option. 

"Merci, mon amour. I still owe you a honeymoon. I hope tonight will keep you excited until we get to touch Paris with our own two feet. See you soon. Je t'aime."

A goofy grin pressed past the neutral facade Patrice tried to maintain while butterflies fluttered inside her belly. Light jeering from students awaiting instruction and any piece of their favorite teacher's business she was willing to pass down only pushed her growing smile further across her face. 

Patrice read the message one more time for the road and clasped her hands together. "Alright! If we have some thought-provoking responses today, everybody gets their lowest grade dropped. Deal?" 

Long after his wife had made agreements with a cohort of 17 and 18-year-olds, Terry stood in their quaint kitchen, carefully placing beignets in the oven to keep warm. For all his exhaustive research into easy Parisian dishes to replicate at home, he knew his limits and how to circumnavigate the one thing Patrice specifically desired to taste in Paris. He searched high and low for the perfect dupe, drove nearly an hour away, almost fell behind in the cooking process, and still didn't regret going out of his way for the perfectly golden French donuts.

Steak awaiting its introduction to a sizzling pan rested near wrapped cowboy butter from Terry's father and a bowl of cut fries floating in ice-cold water. Oil popped as it reached its target cooking temperature. A bottle of non-alcoholic wine sat in a bucket flanked by the good dishes Patrice reserved for special occasions and another seasonal bouquet. In the living room, Marvin Gaye's 'I Want You' spun 'round and 'round on Patrice's old vinyl player, filling the house with some of Terry's favorite tracks. Candles lit strategically cast shadows on the walls for an added level of romance. The live stream of the Eiffel Tower taking over their wall-mounted TV looked out of place, but Terry wasn't willing to part with the silly addition meant to add realism to the night. 

Terry's humming kept his mind on track in a whirlwind of pans and dwindling time. The night had to be perfect. After years of wasted time and missed opportunities, he owed Patrice his best effort in their inaugural celebration. 

A car door slamming shut just as piping hot homemade frites were freed from the frying process made Terry's eyes flicker up to the wall clock to check the time. Finally, she was home. Work and responsibilities had already sucked up too much of her time. He planned to take up what was left with his undivided attention. 

After dusting his hands on a dish towel, Terry stepped out of the kitchen to meet the love of his life at the living room's threshold. 

Her grin, full of mirth and crafted solely for his pleasure, made his stomach turn a flip. He leaned against the wooden frame, watching her hang her coat on the hoot. "Hé, ma belle." 

"Wow. He's fine as all hell and speaks French? I'm a lucky girl." Patrice's compliment came with arms outstretched to wrap around Terry's neck. Strong hands pulled her close until his nose was pressed to pulse at her neck. She giggled into his ear. "Hi, Pooh Bear. Happy Valentine's Day. Thank you for my gift." 

Terry murmured into Patrice's neck. "Of course. Happy Valentine's Day, baby." He squeezed her sides before pulling back to kiss her forehead. "You like your flowers?" 

"I did. They're beautiful. Who taught you about snowdrops and QR codes, old man?" Her lighthearted jab came with long, slender fingers gently stroking his chest overtop his fresh black t-shirt. 

"The QR code came from the annoying ass Wyatt. Felt like I should get something out of always having to hear him talk shit about the Panthers." Terry took hold of Patrice's hand to drop kisses on her knuckles. "The flower knowledge came from this really pretty girl I know from way back. You think she'd be cool with havin' dinner with me tonight?"

Patrice felt herself returning to the shy girl of her youth. "She'd love to. Can she have a minute to clean up?" 

"Take all the time you need. Dinner will be ready when you come out." 

Two lingering kisses on her lips and a two-hand squeeze on her backside sent Patrice squealing around the corner and into the bedroom while Terry set off to finish preparing the night's meal. 

Wafts of Terry's cologne intertwined with Patrice's perfume in the bathroom's humidity, caught in a tango while she stood in front of the mirror trying to tame bags beneath tired eyes with concealer. Excitement coursed through her veins like her first date with the man of her dreams was on the other side of another light layer of perfectly pink blush. She couldn't fix her hair, dab lip gloss on her full lips, or slide on the floor-length lounge dress she purchased fast enough. Every second spent outside of Terry's presence felt like torture until she was sauntering into the kitchen to find him awaiting her arrival at the kitchen table. 

A low whistle passed through slightly pursed lips. "Sometimes I still can't believe you chose me," Terry started, his hand outstretched for Patrice to grab hold. "Come here. Let me see you up close." 

Patrice took slow steps forward to revel in Terry's attention, loving the way he seemed to see nothing else in the room but her. No flaws, no rising insecurities – only the most perfect version of the girl he fell in love with before love truly had meaning. 

"If you spend all night looking at me, we're gonna waste your baby letting me keep food down all week. I need those beignets in the oven," she joked as soon as she was close enough for him to grab.

With her hand in his, Terry helped Patrice spin in a slow circle, drinking in every inch of her body before stopping to pull her into his lap. "I can't hide anything from your mommy. You gave her a super nose." His words came in a soft, silly voice he almost couldn't control as he rubbed the slight pudge of Patrice's belly. "This dinner is very special, champ. Let us enjoy tonight, okay?" 

"All of it, you hear? Your daddy brought Paris to us, and I will eat this steak whether you like it. Well done and all!" 

Baby Richmond had no objections to well-done steak and crispy frites, even fighting for more of their father's rare cooking as conversation meandered between the day's happenings and the type of mushy romantic back and forth that sounded almost too cheesy to be true. Terry and Patrice ate, drank, and traveled down memory lane until their stomachs ached and their eyes were misty from laughter.

Things I Love About Terry. Terry smiled as he scrolled through the digital scrapbook Patrice crafted to get around their gifting rule. Reason #8 was his favorite: I love when we kiss, and he doesn't want to pull away. It reminds me of our first one every time. 

He chuckled. "That's cute that you still remember that. It's also cute that you think this doesn't count as a gift."

"No! We had a no paid gift rule. I didn't spend money on it. Which you broke first, by the way." 

"Flowers are not a gift. They come with the service." Terry listened to Patrice regard his Boondocks callback with a mumbled 'whatever' and smiled before locking his phone. "But, since free gifts don't count, I have something for you." 

Patrice danced in her seat, preparing for another sweet treat to satisfy her cravings. "Is it a turnover? I hope it's a turnover." 

"You're pushing it, Treece. Don't make me tell your business at the next appointment." 

"Snitch." 

Terry shook his head at her mumbled insult while he dug behind containers of protein powder in the one cupboard she had never opened for the gift he'd been holding since the day things bloomed, burned, and resurrected between them.

If not for his mother's antsy mind getting the better of her earlier in the week, Terry would've never uncovered the gem hidden in his childhood bedroom's closet. The weathered outer cover had long been scrubbed free of any identifiable marker of its contents, but page after page of dated ramblings reminded him of all the lofty goals he'd written as a teen. Dreams of a booming NFL career and a utopian society concocted from a naive mind littered each page. 

He flipped and laughed for several minutes until he reached the entry coincidentally dated for his 16th birthday. Imagine you've jumped 10 years into the future and are writing a letter to your current self. What might your life look like? Talk about your career, family, and any additional details you desire. 

The "love letter," as his father called the two-page plan for his next decade of life. Terry had gone to great lengths to hide it after Marvin's teasing, guarding the speckled notebook with his life and tossing it into his closet once the schoolyear ended to rid himself of the embarrassment. He never expected to live out much of the wishful thinking penned on the withering, yellow pages of yesteryear, much less share them with the subject of his affection then and now. 

Patrice watched Terry slide the open notebook across the table with a quizzical look, glancing down at half-legible chicken scratch and then back up at her husband. "What's this?" 

"It's history," he answered plainly with a secretive smile. He slid into his seat and pointed at the notebook. "Can you read that to me?" 

More questions bounced behind Patrice's eyes, but she saved them all to fulfil Terry's wish with no pushback. Blinking the blur from old contact lenses, she started from the top. 

"Hey Past Terry. It's you from the future. I know you have a bunch of questions, but I'm only going to answer the important ones. You'll just have to figure out the rest on your own. It wouldn't be as fun if I gave you all the answers. To start, your life is completely different. You haven't won a championship yet, but you're close. You'll get there soon, and when you do, it'll be the biggest story on ESPN. You'll get to watch all the talk in your big house in California that overlooks the beach. It's nice. You get to go down there every day during the offseason." Patrice smiled and looked up at Terry. "We both owe Young Terry at least a weekend at the beach." 

Terry's half smile grew wider. "We'll do Hilton Head before the baby comes. Keep readin’.” 

"Damn, the cure to cancer must be in here," Patrice joked before continuing. 

"California is a great place to raise a family. You don't have any kids yet, but you and your wife are thinking about it. I don't want to spoil who it is, but at some point, you'll try to get her to stop working…again. It doesn't matter how much you try to convince her, she still wants to work because she's good at her job. She's good at everything. So, give up and let her do what she wants." 

Patrice still hadn't connected the dots as she looked back up at Terry and smirked. "Well, sorry to whoever that lady is. Maybe in another lifetime."

"Yeah," he laughed before Patrice moved to the next paragraph. "Maybe."

"Not to get too mushy, but we really love her. It's not like the silly, made-up love in movies. It's the love mom and dad have. The kind where you laugh and joke all the time. She's still stubborn, but you know how to talk to her better, so you argue a lot less. At least about the serious stuff. That's the cool part about marrying your best friend. You know each other for a long time and things just make sense because they always have when she's around." 

Patrice wished she could blame the catch in her throat and the sting of tears at her waterline on pregnancy hormones and not the rush of sudden realization once she looked up at Terry. "Oh, Terrence. That's me." she sniffled, trying to catch stray droplets before they hit the page and distorted the next lines. 

"When you win on Sunday and Monday nights, she's always on the sidelines to tell you that you played a good game, except when you don't. Then she gets all sassy like she used to in school. She still doesn't like football all that much, but she shows up anyway in your jersey. It's dope."

"Some of that held up," Terry chimed in, half-joking as he reached across the table for Patrice's free hand. "You still don't like football, and don't hold back if I'm fucking up." 

She laughed and shrugged. "At least I'm consistent." 

Consistent, his greatest support system, the most complete love he'd ever known – Terry could go down the list rattling off Patrice's best attributes and contributions but preferred to let her read the most intense thoughts his limited teenaged mind could concoct in a 15-minute journal entry.

"I'm probably not supposed to tell you the truth, but I don't know if all of this will come true. I'm not asking you to do all that, even though having all that money would be super cool! Just make sure you're happy. Be happy and marry your best friend as soon as you think she'll say yes. I'll be pretty mad if you don't do that. Hopefully, you'll be writing a letter to me soon. I wanna know if it all panned out."

Thirty-plus-year-old Terry considered writing back to his younger self many times. Once, after basic training when the anguish of a newly broken heart and being ripped away from the comforts of home brought with it what he later came to know as a deep depression. Then again, on his 26th birthday, for continuity's sake. The third time, he'd typed his way through four pages of explanation, needing to level set with a past version of himself regarding all the ways he'd come up short but planned to make good on all his promises. He couldn't bring himself to continue when he reread three days worth of incoherent thoughts. Not without all the pieces to the puzzle. Now, though, with a rock on his best friend's ring finger and happiness permeating every layer of his being, he could think of more than a few things to write about. 

"A lot of my life was never part of the plan," Terry started once Patrice had read off the letter's final goodbye. "I wasn't supposed to be a Marine or still live in Fayetteville past my 18th birthday. I'm damn sure if that version of me were around, he'd be fuckin' pissed we haven't seen the ocean in over 20 years," he laughed along with Patrice as she pushed water droplets off her round cheeks. "But, baby, you have always been the goal. Even when I was stupid and far away. I need you to know that." 

Sure, Patrice understood the words from his lips and the fact that they were some of the sweetest sentiments she'd ever had directed in her favor. Grasping Terry's love, enduring for over a decade in all its staggering depth and complexity, was something totally different – something she'd spend lifetimes trying to unpack. 

Still, she allowed her legs to carry her and their unborn child around the table to sit in her second favorite seat, just to feel his warmth radiate across her skin. "I know." Soft lips connected for a sweet kiss their younger selves would blush at if they were present. Patrice cupped Terry's face in her hands. "Thank you for loving me the way you always have, babe. When you write back to that version of yourself, I hope you tell him how much I love being by your side. I loved you then, and I love you even more now. Make sure you tell him that, okay? Tell him he wasn't the only one excited about marrying their best friend one day." 

"I'll let him know." A partial truth. He'd eventually get around to trying out the journal his mother had gifted him years ago and unleashing years of updates onto lined pages. He owed 2009 Terry a rundown of what his life had become. 

But Terry couldn't tell such a young, impressionable mind about how they explored each other like professionals deep into the night. He couldn't share how her skin still felt like premium silk against his all these years later. Or how he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be inside her. One time wasn't enough. Twice couldn't come close. He needed her until he was a panting, weak mess. And even when he felt like he couldn't go anymore, hearing Patrice call his name for one last time energized him enough to push the thought of fatigue to the back of his mind. 

With her head hanging off the right edge of the bed and looking up at him expectantly, Terry leaned down to kiss her plump, swollen lips. "After this, we're getting ready for bed, okay?" 

"Yes, sir." Though sweet as pie, the glint in Patrice's dark eyes communicated the final decision was all hers. They were done when she was done. 

Her fingers danced up her torso, taking a short pitstop at nipples saluting their favorite person to twist and pull before taking hold of her prize for the night. Terry jerked forward as he watched her under heavy lids. He'd get to his end of the bargain in a few. Watching her slide his leaking tip across her pursed lips was the main attraction. She hummed to herself, satisfied with the small mess she'd made across her mouth, before welcoming him inside her throat. 

Terry caressed her cheek, using his thumb to clean up wayward saliva. "Two taps when you need a break. One when you want to stop."

Patrice took in the instructions and discarded them just as quickly. His care was endearing, but she didn't wait over a decade for their first Valentine's Day together to take a break. Breathing through her nose, she took him in inch by inch, stroking the back of his thighs lovingly while he hissed and moaned his way through shallow strokes. 

Modified 69 needed two to make the experience complete. Blinking back into the present, Terry reached across the comforter to grab the fully charged purple stimulator, waiting to jump into the fun. His rough palms rubbed a soothing path across her belly, stopping to appreciate the gentle slope on his way to the warmth between her thighs. 

"Keep 'em open for me, pretty," he murmured, more focused on the clear strings of arousal connecting his fingers to her clit. He pulled them back to savor her taste for the umpteenth time. A light smack against her pussy produced a needy moan that sounded like music to his ears. 

Rhythmic suction on both ends of the spectrum kept them loud enough to wake the neighborhood. The depths of Patrice's throat were always a welcomed home for him. Wet and sloppy head the way he liked it kept Terry grinding the vibrator against her clit to feel the vibration of her moans against him. As much as they wanted to go forever, this type of pleasure would ensure forever didn't last too long.

Saliva pooled at the corners of Patrice's lips. Glistening arousal from being edged over and over with her small but mighty little friend created a puddle on the towel beneath her behind. She cried for relief Terry wasn't willing to grant. He wanted a photo finish – something to make their first Valentine's fuck worth it. He pulled the toy away and slowly slid himself out of her mouth, earning a small mewl in disappointment. 

He grinned down at her before gripping her chin. "Tongue out for me, Piggy." Patrice did as she was told, receiving her favorite form of payment in return. Spit kept them tethered to each other in a lewd display of affection until she had all she could handle. "You ready?" 

"Mhmm," she hummed, nodding despite the ache in her neck. 

Casting the toy aside and bracing himself on the bed, Terry resolved to let himself go and give Patrice what she really wanted. Methodical strokes to elicit gags and gargles sexy enough to make any man combust filled the room while he fucked her face silly. A fantasy turned into a reality. She held herself steady by his thighs, pressing crescents into the flesh as the bed rocked beneath her. Time turned into an outdated, meaningless concept second to receiving and giving pleasure in her world.

"Fuck," Terry whispered to the ceiling with his eyes clamped shut. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm about to –" 

Patrice wanted to tell him he had nothing to be sorry for. He'd given her sweet gestures, affirming words, and absolute filth in equal measure. She felt like she should've been thanking him instead. Her only regret was being deprived of seeing the look on his face when he crossed the finish line and drained himself on her chin and throat with a shuddering moan he didn't have time to be embarrassed about. Terry's hands pumped at his shaft until he was spent and gasping for breath, leaving Patrice to run her hands up and down his hips for comfort. 

But one was not two, and she still deserved her happy ending. Terry's trembling fingers regained enough strength to grab the still buzzing helper and press it against Patrice's clit, not letting up as her hips jolted off the bed and her thighs tried to close. 

He held one leg against the mattress and pulled his lip beneath his top row of teeth to remain focus. 

She called his name for mercy, but the plea went unanswered. "Terrence!" Still nothing. Only the maniacal flash of lust in his eyes greeted her. "Oh my – ooooh! It's too much! It's too much."

It wasn't enough. Not until her body seized and heavy breathing turned into silent gasps. Patrice gripped him tight as she used all her strength to prop up on her elbows and take part in the water show unfolding beneath her. Two firsts in one night. 

"That's my girl," Terry praised without letting up. "That's my good girl. You see what you doin'?" 

"Yes!" Patrice shouted, unable to stop her body from reacting. 

Terry bent at the waist to kiss the top of her head. "Breathe, Treecey. Don't hold it in." 

In through your nose, out through your mouth. The words became muffled in Patrice's ears, only gaining clarity when the ringing ceased and her breathing evened. She leaned against Terry's chest to smile up at him, covered in his essence, finally satisfied. "I look insane, huh?"

Terry plucked at a stray lash extension and chuckled. "You look beautiful. My pretty baby." He kissed her forehead. "Always have been. Mean it." 

His. In sickness and in health. For rich or for poor. On Valentine's Day or a random Wednesday afternoon. Terry, in all his life's stages and every universe, Patrice Ellis Richmond was known to him as one word: mine.

—————-

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[flwrkid14]

Valentine’s Day in Gotham

The thing about Valentine’s Day in Gotham is that it’s never normal.

There are no quiet, peaceful date nights. No simple dinners by candlelight. No perfect, romantic moments uninterrupted by sirens, crime, or the occasional villain trying to make a statement with heart-shaped explosives.

No, Valentine’s Day in Gotham is chaos. It’s stolen moments, fleeting kisses, and love tucked into the spaces between sirens and shadows.

Still, the Batfamily makes do.

–––

The museum alarms are already blaring when Bruce arrives, dropping soundlessly through the skylight.

Selina is standing in front of a glass case, admiring the diamond necklace inside.

“B, you always know how to surprise me,” she purrs, not even turning around. “Did you come to stop me or join me?”

Bruce sighs. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Selina smirks. “So it is.” She turns, stepping into his space. “What do you say? Let me have this one, and I’ll let you catch me next time?”

Bruce shakes his head, but his lips twitch. “You already stole my wallet.”

Selina grins, holding up his credit card. “And your heart.”

She’s gone before he can respond.

–––

At a tiny diner in Blüdhaven, Dick grins across the table at Rory, their fingers tangled together between plates of half-eaten pancakes.

“Did you know,” Dick says, eyes twinkling, “that Valentine’s Day originally started as a Roman festival where people ran around naked and hit each other with goat hides?”

Rory stares at him for a long moment. “You tell me the most romantic things, babe.”

Dick winks. “I try.”

Rory laughs and throws a crumpled napkin at him.

–––

The gunfire has barely died down when Jason drops onto the fire escape beside Roy, pulling his mask off with a sigh.

“Well,” Roy says, stretching his arms behind his head. “That was a hell of a date.”

Jason snorts. “Better than last year.”

“Last year, I got shot,” Roy reminds him.

“Exactly.”

Roy groans and tilts his head back. “We are the worst couple ever.”

Jason glances at him, then, after a moment, leans in and kisses him—slow, deep, lingering.

Roy blinks at him when he pulls away.

Jason smirks. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Roy swears under his breath, then yanks Jason back in for another kiss.

–––

Cass does not see the point of Valentine’s Day.

Steph, on the other hand, loves it.

Which is why, somehow, Cass finds herself standing in front of a heart-shaped piñata, blindfolded, while Steph cheers her on.

“C’mon, babe! You got this!”

Cass sighs, gripping the bat. Then, without hesitation, she swings.

The piñata explodes, showering them both in candy.

Steph gasps. “You broke it in one hit! You are so hot.”

Cass smirks, pulling off the blindfold. “Kiss?”

Steph grabs her face and kisses her breathless.

–––

Duke and Izzy are caught in the middle of a convenience store robbery.

“You couldn’t have waited until we checked out?” Izzy complains, holding up their bag of snacks. “We were literally paying.”

The masked robber looks nervous, but before he can respond, Duke casually disarms him and zip-ties his hands together.

Izzy sighs. “I just wanted to watch a movie and eat junk food. Is that too much to ask?”

Duke kisses her forehead. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She huffs. “You better.”

–––

Tim wakes up to find a Post-it note stuck to his forehead.

Good morning, love of my life. Check the kitchen. <3

Tim blinks, groggy, and stumbles out of bed.

In the kitchen, Danny is standing at the stove, flipping pancakes. There are sticky notes everywhere, covering every surface.

I love you is scribbled across the fridge. Your coffee is ready sits beside his favorite mug. You are the best thing that ever happened to me is stuck to the sugar jar.

Tim stops in the doorway, staring.

Danny turns and beams at him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Tim swallows past the lump in his throat. “You’re ridiculous.”

Danny kisses him. “And you love it.”

Tim does.

–––

Damian does not believe in Valentine’s Day. It’s a frivolous holiday designed to pressure people into excessive displays of affection.

Jon, however, is determined to change that.

Which is why Damian comes home to find a very large, very poorly painted banner hanging in the Batcave that reads: DAMIAN, WILL YOU BE MY VALENTINE?

Jon grins at him from behind it. “Well?”

Damian crosses his arms. “You defaced the Batcave.”

“Technically, I decorated it.”

Damian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are an idiot.”

Jon grins. “But am I your idiot?”

Damian glares at him. Then, after a moment, he sighs and mutters, “Yes.”

–––

Valentine’s Day in Gotham is never normal.

But somehow, it’s always perfect.

Happy Valentine's Day !! <3

[natalicss]

Glitter & Crimson

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

summary: you and ji-yong live busy lives. as both of you start preparing for new albums and tours, as well as manage long distance during the holiday of love, the pressure of it all seems to get to you. set in the same universe as like we were in paris

warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, reader is working herself too hard, mentions of not eating, not proofread, implied age gap (reader is mid twenties), reader crashes out a lil bit, if i missed any lemme know and ill add it (i still don’t know how to use tumblr)

word count: 4.2K

nat’s notes: hey y’all!! in honor of valentine’s day i wanted to write SOMETHING, and this is what came out. i don’t actually know how romantic this is but…it’s more of american pop star & jiyong sooo im not gonna complain. i also didn’t tag anyone cause…for some reason that scares me so whoops. OH the little divider thing below is by strangergraphics btw

Valentine’s day, a cliche holiday that people often either love or despise. You usually felt pessimistic, for years. For years, you spent the holiday with your friends, going out and drinking nights away, dancing in clubs and wearing flattering outfits. If you weren’t doing that, you were curled up at home surrounded by your favorite snacks as you binged watched your favorite show. You didn’t like Valentine’s day, but you took the day to take care of yourself.

And then you met Ji-yong.

It was almost embarrassing, how easily that man swept you off your feet. A whimsical fairytale of unexpected friends to lovers. He made every day an adventure, one way or another. Never a second did you doubt your love for him. Not even when the two of you went months without seeing each other, swept up in busy schedules. Not even when the two of you kept your relationship a secret from fans and the industry for years. That didn’t go well, considering you two leaked it yourselves by locking lips at a Chanel fashion show…oops.

You grew to love Valentine’s day, the both of you using it as an excuse to share how much you adored and cared about each other even more than you already did. Flowers, chocolates, romantic dates, you two had done it all at this point. So, you couldn’t help but feel a little ache in your heart as you walked into your LA dance studio, getting ready for tour rehearsals. 

While Ji-yong was busy himself with rehearsals, preparing for his new album, his new show, and everything else that comes with G-Dragon’s comeback, you were worrying about your own. Your fifth album was released a couple months ago, and the pending start of your tour was coming quicker than you anticipated. After the fashion show, and a few remaining days with your boyfriend, you had no choice but to return back to America and continue getting ready. You two barely had time to bask in the reality that everybody knew about your relationship, now separated by the ocean.

Your days were filled with chaos. From the Grammys, to meeting with stylists and trying different pieces, to rehearsals for choreography, to overlooking the stage setup and the designs, to picking out your microphones, meeting with various crew members, you barely had a moment to breathe. With the time difference adding on to that, you and Ji-yong found keeping in contact a bit harder than usual. For years, it didn’t matter. If one of you was busy, the other wasn’t, and the two of you could compromise schedules, take phone calls at random times, and find more free time to travel back and forth. But this? This was different. 

You were standing in a large studio with your backup dancers and your choreographer, all of you covered in sweat, your body's aching, and your hearts pounding against your chests. Valentine’s day was this week, and you tried hard not to focus on it. It was your first Valentine’s day that you wouldn’t be with your boyfriend. And while in reality, that wasn’t that big of a deal, it hurt knowing that you weren’t even certain when you’d see him next.

Trying not to dwell on it, you focused on your work. Pushing yourself farther than usual. You moved with precision and acted as if the studio was your stage. Your choreographer, who you’d been working with for years, watched you intently as you and your dancers swung your hips to the beat. You held a microphone to your lips, singing along to your latest single. You strut, looking at the mirror and the would-be crowd. You felt every movement. It burned. It ached. It stung. Your lungs felt like they were going to collapse. You hadn’t worked this hard, this long, since your first world tour. Back then, you felt like you had something to prove. New to the industry, blowing up alongside some of the best artists. You wanted to show that you were meant to be there. 

In a way, you felt like that now. Five albums later, your fourth world tour, and you felt that need to prove that you still were that American pop-princess they crowned you to be. Maybe it was the press finally getting to you. Comments on how your last tour wasn’t as extravagant, how you haven’t been in the media as much the last few years, resulting in a potential downfall in your career. Maybe it was the need to please the fans, knowing they’ve been waiting for almost two years for this tour. Knowing they were going to want it to be good, better than before. Maybe it was your team, who constantly had their own thoughts and opinions on what your setlist should be, what outfits you should wear, where your tour dates should be. It was normal, expected when you’ve been in the industry. Knowing that still didn’t diminish the weight on your shoulders as you moved your legs with an articulate move.

One of your dancers, Raphael, was trying to hide the concern on his face as the two of you continued your dance for another song. He had been one of your dancers since your second tour, and a good friend along the way. He knew you better than most people here, other than maybe your best friend who was quietly watching from the sidelines. He’d seen you working hard like this for weeks. Even before you left for Paris, he had started to get worried as he watched you push and push and push. You could take a lot, you were strong and ambitious, things he admired. But everybody had a limit. 

He thought you would have gotten some rest after your performance in Paris, taking a few days off to spend with Ji-yong before coming back to LA. That had given him some temporary relief. But when you got back, his concern was back more than ever. He noticed how little you did anything else. You were hardly eating, coming into your work days with circles under your eyes, you had started to become more agitated when anyone made mistakes, especially yourself. You barely took breaks. When the other dancers were sitting down, drinking water, eating their lunches, you were still on the floor, practicing harder moves and trying to perfect them.

Raphael was staring at you now, watching as your body faced him, your head still angled towards the mirror as you sang. Your hand pressed into his chest, pushing him slightly as the two of you moved in sync. He walked backwards, watching you closely. Your eyes were glossed over with exhaustion, red from lack of sleep, and your skin was sticky with sweat. His eyes danced over you, watching the way your hand shook holding the microphone. The way your legs started to move with less precision. You missed a note. Other dancers noticed, keeping up with their own routine but sending looks at Raphael and each other. 

You slowly blinked as you moved with them, seemingly out of it. As you spun, everything around you seemed to, too. Your vision blurred, the room rotating in odd angles as you started to stumble in your steps. Part of you knew something was wrong, but another part of you refused to accept it, pushing. You kept the microphone up by your lips, continuing to sing despite the way your lungs were burning for more oxygen. Your choreographer stood up straight, her eyebrows furrowing. You pulled the microphone away to continue a dance break, but as you started the first difficult move, the room began to spin in a nauseating way. 

Your brain couldn't catch up as you started to fall forward. Raphael wrapped an arm around you, yelling your name in panic as the two of you collided with the floor. The choreographer quickly stopped the music, everyone in the room starting to crowd around you. Your friend came over, bottled water in hand, and their phone as they looked you over. In a few moments, your eyes fluttered open, and in the one moment your body stopped overworking you could feel the way every part of you was hurting. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Your choreographer asked, looking you over. “Give them some room,” Dancers started to step back, their eyes never leaving you. You groaned, sitting up slowly as Raphael kept a hand on your shoulder. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” You answered shortly, reaching for the water in your friends hand. “I just haven’t drank enough water today. I’m good.”

Raphael and your friend shared knowing looks. “Y/N, maybe you should take a minute. You just passed out, again-” “I’m fine!” The two of them watched as you pushed off the floor harshly. You still swayed in your steps, but you remained upwards. You started chugging the water, crushing the plastic before throwing it towards the trashcan. You shook your limbs, as if that would erase the exhaustion. “Again!” 

Raphael clenched his jaw, knowing that you couldn’t go on like this. If you did, tour wasn’t going to last more than a couple shows. You had passed out at a practice a couple weeks ago, too. When you and your crew were getting ready for the Gala Des Pièces Jaunes event, you had over-exerted yourself and collapsed. That time, Raphael hadn’t been able to catch you, and you had landed harshly on the floor. And though he had been there to catch you this time, you might not be so lucky if you were on stage. He looked in the direction of your friend, who was back on the side lines. They were thinking the same thing.

But you weren’t listening. At every concerned comment your friend made, you brushed it off with a dismissive huff, and any time Raphael suggested to you to rest, or eat, or take a day off, you shot back with a snarky remark. You were too busy to take a break. You had too much counting on this tour. You had to be perfect.

So, they had to reach out to the one person you would listen to.

Ji-yong was entirely unaware of exactly how much work you were putting yourself through. He knew you were busy, as he was doing many of the same things you were. And sure, he noticed some tension in your voice when he asked you about your days, but he thought it was just anxiety. You’d always been so nervous when big projects were coming up. It was what made your shows so amazing, the way you cared about your work, your fans. The message was clear in every lyric, every dance, and more. 

So, when he got a phone call mid-afternoon from Raphael, he was a little confused. The two of them were friends, of course, but they hardly talked one-on one. Still, he answered it, bringing his phone to his ear as he excused himself from the room filled with management. “Hello?”

“Hi, sorry to bother you man,” Raphael says. In his voice, Ji-yong can here something that he couldn’t exactly place. Like something was lurking behind his tone.

“No, it’s fine,” Ji-yong says kindly. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a lingering silence, some shuffling on the other end. Raphael sighs as he takes a moment to find the right words. “No, uh, not really. It’s Y/N.”

Ji-yong tenses, his thumb playing with the rings on his fingers. “What’s going on?” He asks warily.

“Has she told you about the tour?”

“Parts.” Ji-yong says, trying hard to keep his tone light and unnerved. “She’s been busy, so we haven’t talked about it in detail.”

Raphael scoffs slightly, “She’s been busy, alright.” Ji-yong hears Raphael shuffle more, “We’re worried about her, man. She’s been working herself to the bone.”

Ji-yong blinks. “Is she stressed?” He thinks about all the things the two of you did to cope with anxiety. Whether it was breathing exercises, meditation, listening to music, he thinks about mentioning it to him-

“She’s more than that. She’s barely sleeping, eating, she passed out at practice again–”

“What do you mean again?”

Raphael exhales loudly, “She didn’t tell you about that either?” He is chuckling lowly. Ji-yong is looking at the floor, his mind all over the place. “For that gala, she was working so much, she fainted at practice a couple days before the show.”

Ji-yong is pacing, unable to stop himself. How had you not told him? How had he not noticed? He always asked you if you ate that day, he always texted you little reminders to eat breakfast, drink water. You had always done the same for him, too, knowing his own struggles with his mental health and working himself too hard. A guilty ache in his gut made him suddenly feel uncomfortable in his skin.

“She’s not listening to anybody. We’ve all tried telling her to take a break, to eat, to take a fucking nap. She just gets mad.” Raphael’s words make Ji-yong wince, painfully understanding what that was like. “Which is why I called you.”

Ji-yong is looking around the building he’s in, looking out the window. Seoul moved around him like it always had. His team was in a room just a few feet away, working away at his album, his tour, his press tours. And yet, all of that felt silly now as he thought about you. His partner who he truly cared about more than himself. He clenched his jaw, scratching at his hair as he tries to think clearly. He could call you, scold you for your carelessness for yourself and try to knock some sense into you. But he knew you better than that, just like you did. You knew how upset he’d be at you for working too hard, so you hadn’t mentioned it, leaving out key points in conversation. And he knew you wouldn’t listen, not to a phone call. 

So, desperate times call for desperate measures.

As the week of Valentines continued, so did you. You continued working hard, refusing to acknowledge worried comments from your co-workers. Even your manager had tried to say something, only to get snapped at (which didn’t happen often). If your choreographer conveniently got sick, like today, that didn’t stop you from going to the studio and continuing practice alone. 

The music blared from the speakers, but your own heavy breathing and the squeaking of tennis shoes was louder in your ears. You chose not to sing today, the only leniency you’d give your body. Instead, you focused on the set, practicing a new song that was going to be released with the deluxe version of your album. You moved your arms with the music, tilting your body in various directions, imagining your dancers were there to help create the perfect image. You swing your body in a sensual motion, sinking lower to the ground. Your body was screaming at you, almost begging you to stop as you stood back up. You glared at your own reflection. You could see it. The exhaustion. The stress. You could feel the pressure scratching into your muscles like claws.

Tears pricked your eyes as you stared at yourself. You had lost weight, probably from the lack of meals and the extreme amounts of exercise. Your eyes red with bags under them. You looked almost sick, from how tired you were. You could feel it. And yet you didn’t let your body stop. As a particularly intense part came up, tears streamed down your pale cheeks as you pushed. Every move was hit exactly as it should be. Extreme, fast, smooth, and a hint of flirtation as you beamed at the mirror like your fans were watching from the other side. You ignored the way your throat burned at the sobs threatening to escape you. You ignored the way your arms were aching every time you moved. You ignored how your feet suddenly felt to heavy to move.

Until you hit the floor.

Your legs had given out on you, letting you land in a heap of limbs. You scrunch your face up in pain, tears falling more rapidly. You pushed yourself up slowly, staring down at the floor like it had pulled you down. It wasn’t good enough. You weren’t good enough. This tour was going to fall apart, and it’d be entirely your fault. Your fans would be disappointed, your dancers and your crew would lose their jobs, your team would be mad at you, and you would have to face it all alone-

You let out a scream of frustration, slamming your hands against the floor repeatedly. The scream eventually contorted into a strangled sob. Your body shook, no longer having the energy to get up. You leaned back down, your forehead resting against the floor a you heaved. All of the stress, the overbearing pressure, the weeks of working hours and hours a day. It all washes over you like a bone crushing tsunami. 

You didn’t notice the door opening, something dropping to the floor, and running footsteps until someone grabs you.

Initially, you flinch at the touch. Expecting it to be Raphael or your friend, you shoot up from the floor, trying to scoot away from them. But instead, you’re facing a wide-eyed mint-haired Ji-yong. Your boyfriend. Who was, last you checked, supposed to be in Seoul, not LA. 

You blink. Were you hallucinating? For a moment, he just stared at you. He’d never seen you like this. Stressed? Tired? Absolutely. But this was different. Oddly reminiscent of his own past. The thought shook him to his core. His expression softened as he reached for you, his hand falling on your shoulder. You looked back at him, his touch bringing you back to reality. This was real, he was in front of you, and he’d just walked into your studio to see you in a pile of tears. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice hoarse. You look him over, he looked in much better condition than you. Except for the worry in his eyes that made you shrink back into your guilt.

“Your friends called me.” Ji-yong explains, reaching up and pushing your hair out of your face. You felt warm to the touch, too warm. “They’re worried about you, and so am I,” You looked away from him. You didn’t want to face the guilt, the anxiety, the feelings bubbling up in you the last few weeks. “Talk to me,”

You could only shrug, meek. You looked around the studio. “It’s not going to work.” You whisper. He frowns. “The tour. It’s going to fail. I’m going to mess up, or it’s not going to be good enough, and everyone is going to hate it, and I can’t risk that. I can’t mess this up-”

“Jagiya,” Ji-yong’s voice cuts through the air with an unexpected warmth. You look at him. “All of this will be perfect, but none of this is worth basically killing yourself for.” He slides closer to you, “You can’t give it your all if you’re like this. You of all people know that.” He was right. His clear calm words sinking into you. “You’re not going to mess this up. You’re not going to disappoint anyone. You’re not going to fail.” You feel tears roll down your face, and then you feel his touch. As he wipes them away, you lean into his palm for comfort. 

“I missed you,” You whimper.

“I missed you, beautiful,” He whispered back. Slowly, you came forward. You let his arms wrap around you as you curled into his chest, letting out a slow sigh as you finally let your body relax. He ran his fingers through your hair, holding you close. He rested his chin on top of your head, sitting in silence for a moment. His heart hurt with you, for you. You had always been your own biggest critic, he shared a similar testament for himself. But seeing you like this, something so unlike you, made his chest ache. “For the rest of the week, you’re relaxing.”

You sit up again, wide, fearful eyes looking at his calm ones. “I can’t! We have dress rehearsal-”

“You’re not arguing with me on this. Your choreographer already agreed.” His tone was slightly more stern, remaining soft whilst still showing how serious he was. You pressed your lips into a line. “I’m here all week, and you and I are both going to rest.” 

“But you have so much to do. The album-”

“Can wait a few days. I promise.” He lifts your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Let’s get home. I’ll run you a bath and we can watch your favorite show.”

You stare at him, pondering the offer. But he can see as your expression softens, the dark cloud looming over your features fading away. “Can we make hot cocoa?” You ask quietly. 

He can only smile. “Of course.” He tells you. You crack a smile, then. He slowly starts to stand up, pulling you with him. As he turns to grab your bags, you tug at his wrist. He spins back to face you, gasping as you kiss him harshly. His hands find their home on your waist, pulling you into him. It had been a few weeks since the two of you saw each other, and neither of you expected your reunion to go like this. You poured out every feeling into the kiss, letting him know just how much you missed him, how much you loved him, how truly excited you were to see him underneath your layers of exhaustion. 

He never let go of your hand, managing to carry both your dance bag and the bag he’d haphazardly packed before basically running to the airport in one hand. The two of you looked at each other, the conversation slowly flowing into non-work related things. It was like he could see the weight lifting off your shoulders. His presence alone bringing some sort of peace to you. He knew you needed this, and in a way he needed it too.

And when Valentine’s day finally rolled around, he’d made sure to pull out the stops. You’d woken up to breakfast in bed, a ribbon-wrapped box with an expensive necklace, flowers, flowers, and more flowers. You’d done what you could for him, too. Getting him some new rings and scarves, a sentimental handwritten note filled with words of adoration and love. For part of the day, the two of you stayed in your tangled sheets. Fingers tracing bare skin and soft kisses. Whispers of love and arms wrapped around bodies. 

When the evening came, Ji-yong had told you to dress nice. The two of you ended up at your favorite restaurant, the first nice place you took him to when he came to visit you for the first time. Of course he’d been in LA plenty of times before, but the time with you was different. It was more special than all the rest. And now, he remembered that fondly as he watches you sit at the same table (merely a coincidence, or fate he thinks), your eyes finally filled with that familiar love and light. You looked at him, smiling wide. He could die happy knowing he was ever the cause of that smile. 

“I love you, you know.” You said casually, admiring him. He blinks, his cheeks flushing a soft pink that was still noticeable in the warm light. You tilted your head, smiling even more. This is it, you think. This is what you wanted life to be like. You and Ji-yong. You realize that everything else could disappear, fall apart, slip from your grasp, but as long as you had him you’d be okay. This wasn’t the first time marriage crossed your mind, but it was the first time you ever imagined your wedding and confidently believed it would eventually become reality. The idea of walking down the aisle to your Ji-yong. Picturing him looking at you dressed in white. Spending the rest of your life with him. It all seemed like a dream, but it felt like it was all exactly what you wanted.

Ji-yong reaches for your hand over the table. He’s sure he’d never let you go if he had the choice. He looks at you, watching the way you’re glowing even in the dim lights. The way you looked at him enough to make him melt. He knew that you were it for him. You were the person he wanted to come home to every night. The person he wanted to kiss every day before he walked out the door. The person he would hold when he was upset. The person he’d bicker with until you were grey and old. The person he’d have a family with. It wasn’t a question, and there wasn’t another possibility to him. It was all a matter of time. Whether it was tomorrow, next week, next year, whenever. He didn’t know where his life was taking him, but he knew it was all going to be with you.

“I love you, too.”

[always1star]

valentines day with jjk men

Gojo who goes all out: taking the day off, spending thousands of dollars, making sure the day is absolutely perfect for his darling. He takes Valentine’s day very seriously. He wakes you up with your favorite breakfast in bed, one that he spent way too long making in the very early hours in the morning. He finishes off breakfast by gifting you a considerably large bouquet of red roses and a teddy bear the size of an actual bear. He beckons you to eat and get ready so you two can spend the rest of your day together. You go shopping (and come home with armfuls of designer shopping bags), go to a restaurant (that costs basically your entire paycheck for the appetizer alone), and drive around the city in one of his all-too-nice cars. You both fall asleep the second you come home, exhausted from all the love shared throughout the day. 

Geto who likes to treat Valentine’s day as if it were any other date. Don’t get me wrong though, because every date with him is special and unforgettable. He picks you up from your workplace with an assortment of purple, pink, white, and red flowers. He plants a kiss on your lips as you get into his car, and the two of you head to the restaurant that you seem to always come back to. Dinner is eaten, conversations are spoken, and the two of you head back home to watch a movie. Whether it be The Notebook or The Conjuring, movies are always enjoyable with him. The two of you bundle up under one blanket on the couch and share a couple snacks, very much enjoying your Valentine’s this year.

Nanami who prefers to do Valentine’s at home. Although going out and spoiling you is nice too, he would much rather stay at home with you. A mundane day is his favorite, considering his incredibly demanding life. So, for Valentine’s day, he skips out on whatever overtime he may be forced into, and comes home to you with some white tulips. You two make and have a candlelit dinner, bake a cake, watch a shitty romcom, have a warm bath while talking about your days, and sleep entangled with each other. It’s nothing special, but it’s something the both of you couldn’t keep yourselves from looking forward to. 

Toji who truly is trying his best. It almost makes you hysterical, seeing him be so stupified by a holiday for love, but you know he just wants to try for you. He comes home with totally irrelevant gifts: lilies (which is normal), a whisk, red towels, and play-doh. You’re dying laughing, clenching onto your core and holding onto the counter for support as you fall over from laughing. He’s just utterly mortified. So, in an attempt to make it up, Toji invites you out to dinner. Toji loves to see you all dressed up, so this is great for him too. He treats you to dinner, but the wait for a table during Valentine’s is absurdly long at every restaurant. Toji ends up taking you to get some random ramen place he knows, and after treating you to ice cream. The two of you come home and fall asleep. Some people may not have considered your day favorable, but you think it’s absolutely perfect and wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 

Sukuna who doesnt give a single flying fuck about Valentine’s day. But, he is willing to give it a chance this time around, just for you. He grumbles as he walks through the store staring at all the people deciding what to buy for their loved ones. He eventually picked up a box of chocolates, a bouquet of pink carnations, and a white stuffed bear because those just happened to be the things that were popular amongst other shoppers. He looks online for date ideas, and figures tickets to a museum wouldn’t be so bad. He surprises you with the gifts when you come home, and you are so excited. He thinks that maybe this whole “Valentine’s” ordeal isn’t so bad after all. He’s trying, and maybe soon he will see improvement, and that’s wonderful to you. 

lowkey a filler post bc my real valentines special is not done... enjoy this instead. happy valentines, everyone!

[cupcakeinat0r]

Another Valentine's w/ Dadbod!Miguel

It’s that time of year again; A day you so dreaded turned into one of your favorite days of the year: Valentine’s. 

And even though you insist on telling each other you ‘won’t be getting each other anything’ because ‘all you need is each other’, both parties buy gifts anyway (and let’s face it; his were always pricier. The man’s a scientist.) 

Like the year prior, you cooked him breakfast in bed wearing something that was very much short-lived and ended up on the floor, ripped, before he even got to the toast. 

Having taken off from work, especially for the holiday, the both of you then rest in bed, the midday sun cascading across the bedroom floor. Just like last year, he’ll big spoon you, the plush of his stomach against your back and rumbling along with his rich chuckles. Just like last year, you two will snicker in bed, because he’s just murmured in your ear how he’ll need to renew that gym membership if you keep cooking for him like this; how his New Year’s resolutions are impossible with you around. But then he’ll immediately thank you, not for just loving him through food, but for being his rock; he would’ve never eaten this good before you. He would intertwine his fingers with yours under the sheets, the size difference in them endearing. Just like last year. 

After an accidental nap, Miguel groggily mutters in your ear how he’s gotten reservations somewhere nice and that he’s been wanting to take you. Here’s the kicker: it was in 30 minutes. 

“What?!” you jump out of bed and instantly retreat to your closet. Easy for him to stay calm, all he had to do was comb back those black curls of his, dress those muscles, and be ready to go. 

Miguel waits for you in the bedroom, announcing the time you have left through the bathroom door. When he hears your haste voice through the wall, he smiles to himself. 

His eyes wander, and maybe too far, because he finds a notebook. Curious and mindlessly looking for something to do while you finish getting ready, he goes to it and reads through it. It’s fine since there’s no secrets between you; you go into each other's things all the time. 

It doesn’t take too much reading to realize it’s a journal; your journal.  He remembers you mentioning wanting to start for this new year. A little part of him knows he shouldn’t… but the curiosity was killing him. He looks back at the door for a moment, ensuring you’re still occupied.

He turns to the book and resumes reading, but it’s not as wholesome as the first few entries.

His face falls, a certain, familiar wave of heat passing through him as he reads your handwriting. 

This entry was all about him. 

You two had just made love, and you raved about how romantic and tender it was, going into details of how sweetly he treated you. And you also praised the rougher side of Miguel; how he took control in bed, how his strength kept you in a trance, and that body…

You went on to list the many things you wanted Miguel to do to you. Bashfully written secrets of love kept away, in hopes that maybe, through manifestation, they’ll come true, rather than being upfront and telling him what you want. How you wanted to experiment with taking the control for a night, maybe making the entire performance be about his pleasures for a change. To kiss up his thighs and the little pudge of his stomach, until he was rock solid, placing kisses there as well until he was too worked up to resist begging. How you want to experiment with food and maybe use his entire torso as a plate for your enjoyment. 

‘Whipped cream off his chest and tummy… GAWD. I need a moment. Goodnight.’ was how the entry was sealed.

There was also mentions of wanted to be choked by him, tied, and other various things that Miguel would otherwise be shocked coming from you.

Miguel stares down at the notebook baffled. He knew you loved his body the way it was… but he guess he just didn’t realize how much. 

“Okay, baby, I’m ready. You got the-” a perplexed Miguel turns around to you, your notebook in his hand, and you immediately want to crawl in a hole.

“Miguel,” your voice shakes with shame, bracing yourself for an unbearably embarrassing response, ”How much of that did you read?”

Miguel’s lips curl into a wicked smile. 

“Whipped cream?” his brow quirks.

“Oh… so that much, huh?” he sheepishly nod. You’re stuck where you stand.

Miguel walks with purpose and ease until he’s right in front of you, his frame demanding the lift of your head and guilty gaze.

“Mamita, there’s no need to be hiding this stuff from me.” the tone of his voice is nothing but nurturing and reassuring.

You smile softly up at him, grateful that he at least isn’t disgusted by your twisted mind. Desperate to change the subject, you look at the time, “We can talk later, but aren’t gonna be late?” You ask in hopes he’ll take the bait.

“Late to where?”

Miguel’s hands find the flesh of your hips, giving them a light squeeze, pulling you closer to the plush of his muscles. The small yet dominant gesture making your heart flutter,

“We’re staying right in this room.” 

And he made alllllll your dreams come true in one night. 

Happy Valentine's Day <3 xoxo

[withacapitalp]

Stuff Me, Hug Me, Take Me Home

@stevesbipanic B HAPPY VALENTINES!!! Tis I! Your secret admirer!!! I loved this prompt and I had so much fun with it thank you so much and I hope you love it!!! Special thanks to @thefreakandthehair and @hairstevington for listening to be a little feral and insane about the first thing I'm writing in a very long time

Read on AO3 instead

If there was one place Eddie never expected to end up at on Valentine’s Day, it was the mall. 

When Steve had asked to ‘take point’ this year, Eddie had imagined a day at the lake, maybe a secret picnic, perhaps even a scenic road trip. Something that was their style. A tucked away moment, quiet and held close, so it belonged to just the two of them. 

There was no way the mall - the epicenter of American greed and capitalistic cannibalism - would have that. 

“I can’t believe I found this parking spot!” Steve crowed, tossing Eddie a winning smile as he threw the car into park and grabbed his phone from where it was charging, “Wasn’t that lucky?”

“Sure, Stevie,” Eddie agreed, trying to hide his disdain, but definitely failing given the way Steve’s smile dipped. The mall loomed over them, blocking out the sun with its oppressively boxy architecture, and Eddie couldn’t help his own glow starting to dim. 

The day had started so promisingly. Steve had woken up early and slipped out of bed without Eddie realizing, coming home with ludicrously over decorated heart shaped donuts and coffee from their favorite bakery. They had traded lazy sugar-filled kisses, cuddling and watching Labyrinth. 

Hell, Steve had even managed to almost hide how much he disliked the movie, commenting on David Bowie’s ass and conveniently ignoring the plot and puppets. He hadn’t even texted Robin all morning!

And now…well now they were at the mall. 

“Are we going to a movie or something? We could’ve just gone to The Hawk. You know IMAX movies give me headaches.” Eddie said as they exited the beemer. Steve came around the front, grabbing Eddie’s hand and squeezing it twice - their signal for needing the other person to listen. 

“Trust me?” Steve offered, chewing on the inside of his lip and giving Eddie the big puppy dog eyes he could never resist. Eddie groaned, grumbling softly to himself as he lifted their joined hands up to his lips. 

“Always,” he whispered back, sealing the promise with a kiss. 

As much as Eddie hated to admit it, the mall actually wasn’t as bad as he had imagined. His brain had conjured up tortuous images of packs of useless husbands trolling around for a cheap gift to pawn off on their wives, or hordes of angsty teens lamenting not having someone to share the holiday with. 

But at almost four in the afternoon it was sleepy, practically dead. And besides, it was hard to look around when Steve was dragging him forward with a single-minded determination. All Eddie could do was try and keep up, shooting glances at his boyfriend to try and catch his eye, wondering why Steve was suddenly loath to meet his gaze. 

Then they were stopping short, Eddie stumbling and nearly tripping as Steve let go of his hand out of nowhere. He righted himself, about to tell Steve off for acting so weird, when he looked up and was struck speechless. 

“You mentioned that you always wanted to go here, but that Wayne never had the money for it,” Steve mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning out of Eddie’s space as he continued to avoid eye contact.

Eddie had told him that, but just once. Only once. He could remember the exact moment. The two of them in the kitchen of their apartment right after the move, unpacking mugs as Eddie told the story of each one and placed it with care on the shelf. It was the last mug, the final story of that night. 

“My dad promised me he would take me to Build-a-Bear for my fifth birthday. And my sixth. And my seventh. By my eighth, I stopped answering when he asked me what I wanted, ‘cause I knew it didn’t matter. By ten I was already living with Wayne, and I didn’t even want to ask him, I knew we couldn’t afford it. Wayne found out anyway, because he’s Wayne, and so he got me this mug for my eleventh birthday, and told me it was an IOU. I don’t even know why I wanted to go to build-a-bear so badly, I just got it in my head that having my own bear would be special. Something that was mine, and always would be, you know?” 

And now here Eddie was, standing in front of an ostentatiously yellow store with his heart settled neatly in his throat. 

“I know it’s kind of silly now, because we’re almost thirty. You might not even care anymore, but I thought maybe it would be a nice Valentine’s Day gift? We could build you a bear, and then you would have him forever and always,” Steve explained, his thoughtfulness continuing to choke Eddie to death. 

Eddie didn’t believe in God, but it was hard to believe there wasn’t something looking out for him. Something had to have given him Steve. There was no way this wonderful, beautiful man just landed in his lap. 

“I’m sorry I-” Steve began, obviously misinterpreting Eddie’s silence. 

“I love it,” Eddie said, cutting off the apology before it could truly begin. 

He couldn’t let Steve doubt this, not even for a single second. Eddie cleared his throat roughly, blindly reaching out and latching onto Steve’s wrist, pulling his boyfriend close and wrapping him in the tightest hug possible as he continued to ramble.

“I do, I love it and I- thank you, Stevie. You’re so- you’re just- thank you, thank you, thank you,” 

“Easy, Eds,” Steve murmured, the tips of his ears turning pink as he pressed their cheeks together and gave Eddie a parting squeeze. Eddie let him pull away, but didn’t let him go, interlocking their fingers as he began to bounce in place. 

“We’re going to Build-a-Bear!” Eddie giggled, his joy beginning to spill all over the place.

Steve nodded, smiling just as brightly as Eddie. But, when Eddie went to pull him forward, Steve held fast, keeping them both in place. 

“There’s just one rule. I don’t want you to look at prices at all. You get whatever you want, however you want it. Got it?” Steve said with a mock stern look. Eddie opened his mouth to agree, then hesitated.

It wasn’t like they were destitute. Between Steve’s job as a sub and Eddie’s work at the garage, they were making good money. But with rent, Steve's tuition, and the regular expenses, they didn’t exactly have a lot of cash to blow on fulfilling a childhood dream. 

“I’ve been saving for this, baby. Been doing extra tutoring on the nights you were with the guys playing dungeons and dorks,” Steve admitted, a pretty blush sitting high on his cheeks. Eddie’s heart clenched up again, and he couldn’t resist dragging Steve into a chaste but forceful kiss. 

“You’re the most amazing partner, you know that, right?” Eddie whispered against his lips. Steve ducked his head, pulling away and squeezing Eddie’s fingers silently as they walked into the store.  

The store was almost empty, even quieter than the mall itself. A couple of parents were watching their daughters giggle over clothes for their new stuffed animals, and a young couple was chatting by the little clawfoot bathtubs in the back, but other than that it was just the two of them. There was some bubblegum pop playing in the background, the kind of thing Steve liked to listen to when he made dinner at night. The sound of it settled Eddie instead of setting his teeth on edge, and he couldn’t help leaning against Steve as they approached the bins of unstuffed bears. 

“Go on, pick your new friend,” Steve said, nudging Eddie forward and taking a step back to watch. 

It was easy to eliminate some choices off the bat. Eddie took away anything that was themed for Valentines, or promotional, and he pretty quickly decided against anything that wasn’t a traditional bear. Normally he would’ve loved the contrarian energy of building a dragon or a unicorn, but he wasn’t just making this for right now. This was also for the little Eddie that had dreamt of having that perfect plush bear to snuggle with at night. 

But the problem was, he had never really imagined what the bear looked like. 

“Help me?” Eddie whined, turning back to Steve who shook his head fondly but walked forward anyway. Steve perused the options for a second before reaching into a bin and pulling out a charcoal black bear with brown eyes.

“What about this one? If you give him a battle vest and a band tee he would be a mini-you,” Steve offered, holding the bear out. Eddie took it, letting his fingers run over the fur and imagining the bear properly stuffed and dressed. 

It was perfect. 

They walked past the bear bins, up to a stand with plastic cases and the words “HEAR ME” above it in bright red letters. 

“Okay, one more rule for today. Cover your ears and turn around,” Steve ordered, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a no-nonsense look. Eddie raised a brow, briefly considering putting up a fight, just for the heck of it. 

But there was something in Steve’s face, a glint in his eyes that just bordered on the edge of panic and a crook in his smile that made it sit not quite straight on his face. Whatever he was doing, it was probably something big. 

So, instead of being a gremlin, Eddie remained obedient, turning on his heel and cupping his ears, humming one of the band’s latest creations for good measure. He managed to get all the way through the first two choruses and up to the bridge before he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes. 

“Time for the best part,” Steve said in a soft sing-song tone, pushing Eddie towards the machine filled with stuffing where an employee was patiently waiting for them. 

“Hi there, guys!” She said with a bright grin, “My name is Rosie, and I’m here to help you bring your friend to life.”

Steve, being the amazing boyfriend he was, somehow sensed Eddie’s hesitancy, speaking for both of them as they got closer. “I’m Steve, and that’s Eddie. It’s his first time here.” 

“That’s so great! Okay so I am going to stuff your new friend exactly how you’d like him, then you’re going to pick a heart out of this box and follow all my instructions,” she explained in a patient but authoritative tone that reminded Eddie so much of Nancy he almost laughed out loud. He willingly handed over the bear, watching as she lined him up with the machine. 

“Firm or soft?” 

“Soft,” Eddie answered automatically, going with his gut. 

Rosie nodded and went through the process of stuffing the bear, methodically filling up each paw and giving them a good squeeze before handing the bear to Eddie for a quick check. 

“Before we do the heart ceremony, do you want to add a smell to your bear? We have some of our scents here, and I can go to the back and get you any one off this list if you want.” She offered as Eddie held his bear close. 

“Remember our rule,” Steve whispered loudly in his ear, and Eddie rolled his eyes, his heart almost filled to the bursting. He pointed out a lemon scent on the list and they watched Rosie leave to grab it. 

“Why lemon?” Steve asked, cocking his head to one side. 

“Reminds me of how the house smells on Sundays,” Eddie replied. “All your favorite cleaning products smell like lemons, and all you drink from May to September is lemonade.” 

“It’s a refreshing smell,” Steve grumbled, not a trace of heat in his tone. Eddie chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Whatever you say, Lemon Boy,” he managed to get out just as Rosie returned, a yellow bear paw held in her hand. 

“Now while I put this in and add some final touches, you choose your heart and then we will do the heart ceremony.” She instructed. 

Eddie peered into the box, his eyes immediately locking onto a plaid heart. He plucked it out, showing it to Steve who couldn’t resist laughing. It was the exact same pattern as the god-awful wallpaper he had in his room when they first started dating, and, without words, they both knew what they were thinking about. 

“Okay, are you ready?” 

Eddie nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Rosie stood in front of them and held out her hands. 

“So you’re going to hold the heart just like this,” she demonstrated, cupping her hands and beginning to rub her palms together, “and you’re going to make the heart all nice and warm and toasty for your new buddy over there!” 

Eddie followed her directions to the letter as she had him flip the heart and tap three times (“To wake up his heart and get it beating!”) and lifted the heart up to the sky and waved it back and forth to give his bear very high hopes. He even turned in a circle, delighting in listening to Steve laugh at his antics. 

This was the exact kind of thing Eddie loved to do most - put on a show and lose himself in being a little silly. 

“Now, rub the heart down your back, that way your buddy always has your back. Rub it down your side, so they stay by your side forever and always. Rub it across your cheeks, so your buddy is always smiling each and every day, and hold the heart to your chest to make a nice big wish!” 

Eddie paused for a second, closing his eyes and taking a second to think. He had lots of wishes. He wished his van would hold out for just one more paycheck, that the kids would enjoy the campaign he put together for them. He wanted Wayne to stay healthy, for Steve to pass his classes, for someone, anyone, to find the band and give them their big shot. 

But there was one wish that was more important than the rest. 

“The last thing is giving it a nice big kiss, so your buddy is always full of love.” Rosie said with a flourish. 

Eddie was about to lift the heart to his lips when he paused, turning to Steve and holding it out. Steve’s lip curled in a small, indulgent, smile, and he leaned forward, pressing a long kiss right in the middle of the fabric heart. The edge of his lip touched Eddie’s thumb, sending a shiver down his spine. 

From there the process moved quickly. Rosie sewed up his bear with deadly efficiency, and Eddie and Steve tag teamed the wall of outfits to find the perfect battle vest for Eddie’s bear. Before he knew it, Eddie was sat at a tiny little computer with his bear in his lap and Steve’s chin hooked over his shoulder, both of them staring down at the blank bear birth certificate.

“I don’t know what to name him,” Eddie moaned, leaning back against Steve, who appeared to be deep in thought. 

“Beddie.”

“Beddie?” Eddie repeated incredulously, turning to look at Steve properly. 

“Bear Eddie,” Steve shrugged, as if that made any sense at all. “He does look just like you.”

Eddie snorted, leaning forward and typing out the name, then hesitating and typing some more. 

“What do you think?” he asked, trying to hide the sudden nerves that were lighting up his veins. The last name wasn’t a huge risk to take, but it meant something, something far more than either of them were willing to admit just yet. 

“Perfect,” Steve said with a kiss pressed to Eddie’s cheek. 

And that was how Beddie Bearington ended up nestled between Eddie and Steve that night as they lounged on the couch. Steve had fallen asleep two episodes deep into their Survivor binge, and Eddie was content to stay exactly where he was for at least a few more hours. He dipped his head down, pressing his face to the center of the bear’s chest and smelling the candied lemon scent that permeated through the fur. As he continued to cuddle his bear, Eddie felt something hard and square in the left paw. He pulled back, perplexed by the sudden change, carefully feeling around the object and wondering what it might be. 

With a jolt, Eddie finally put together Steve’s behavior from before. He had somehow hidden a  sound box inside Eddie’s bear, that was the secret Steve hadn’t let him hear before. Eddie slapped his forehead with a palm, unable to believe he could’ve missed something so obvious. The boys would’ve had words to say about their DM being so unobservant. 

Eddie took a cursory look down to make sure Steve was still asleep, and then pressed it, putting the bear's paw up to his ear. He had expected a song, or even some funny sound. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the soft tone of Steve’s voice, fulfilling the secret wish he had put into his bear’s heart. 

“Hi Eddie, it’s me, your boyfriend, Steve. I want you to know that you are the funniest, sweetest, most creative person I know, and I’m so happy that I get to love you…because I do. I love you, Eddie.” 

“It’s true,” a voice whispered from below. Eddie moved the bear and there was Steve, staring up at him. “Sorry I couldn’t say it before.”

“I love you too,” Eddie whispered, almost in awe that he could finally say it and hear it back. 

He could hear it whenever he wanted. Eddie pressed the button on the box again just because he could. Steve’s words filled the air as Eddie nestled Beddie into the couch and dipped his head down, hair falling in a curtain around them as they shared another kiss. 

[bokutoko]

2/14

character: atsumu miya (timeskip!atsumu)

wc: 1.4k

cw: valentine’s day (barf), alcohol, cussing, kinda sorta uni!au (uni!reader x msby!atsumu), slight feelings of inadequacy (reader), they kith💋, atsumu thinks the L-word

pt. 2(ish?) to 7/11

Valentine's Day... also known as your least favorite day of the year (besides your birthday, but that’s a whole different story). The holiday made popular by monetizing the idea of setting aside only one day out of the year to show how much you love your partner, with all the godforsaken life-sized teddy bears and dozens of balloons, and all the mediocre chocolate and overpriced flowers. A cock of shit was what it was—someone should not be loved just one day out of the year. 

Of course, its only significance to you was being a milestone to remind yourself how painfully single you were.

But you weren't bitter. Not at all. Not. One. Bit.

The kicker, though? It almost felt like you didn't even want anybody. The mere idea of dating someone—a person you probably didn’t even know at the time and probably (not so) secretly a piece of shit—made you so nauseous that swearing relationships off altogether seemed more tempting as the days passed...

But alas, the small, hopeless romantic peeking through the rose-tinted lenses of your heart unfortunately held out for something beautiful one day... Maybe not for a prince, but a knight in shining armor. Maybe not a man to sweep you off your feet, but instead one willing to help you pick up the pieces when it felt like everything was falling apart at your feet. 

"Maybe I'll just die an old spinster.”

"C'mon, it can't be that bad," Atsumu's Kansai dialect filtered through your headphones as you walked across campus to your morning class. He’d called, asking if you had any fun plans for the night, fully knowing you didn’t.

“There’s carnations and balloons all over campus. It looks like one of those my little ponies took a dump all over the place."

"But ‘m sure them carnations are pretty. Maybe you'll get one from a guy or somethin’."

"I think I'd rather die," you gagged.

A laugh filled your ears, and everything felt okay–what a nice sound to hear. But after feeling your heart do the thing, you quickly shook it off.

It was strange how for years now, it sometimes made you feel all weirdly warm and tingly when Atsumu laughed with you (even sometimes when he laughed at you).

It was best to not even entertain that notion.

"Well, gotta go, 'm at class," you sighed loudly for dramatic effect, "Maybe I'll go bitch to 'Samu later about my woes and personal vendettas. y’know, since you hate me."

Atsumu found himself smiling at your childish whining. "You mean ‘cause I'll be at practice?"

"Same thing."

“Fuck you too,” he grumbled with a scoff, not an ounce of actual annoyance in his voice, “Bye, nerd.”

A small smile made its way onto your face at his jabs. That was how it always was with Atsumu, ever since you two were in high school together. The both of you always shat on each other, knowing there was never any heat in your malicious words. It was nice, being able to feel safe with someone, to feel comfortable enough to be yourself and unapologetically bully your best friend.

As you prepped for lecture, your mind wandered, constantly circling back to your partner in crime. With every moment that passed, you quickly came to realize that Atsumu always only judged you a little bit with your (sometimes questionable) decisions, keeping it real with you while ultimately supporting you and being one of your biggest cheerleaders. Because all he wanted was to see you succeed. All he wanted was to see you happy.

You felt your face heat up just from thinking about him. 

For fuck’s sake—

While it was nice to attempt to delude yourself into thinking something could ever happen, you were easily able to convince yourself that this strange… crush was most likely unrequited.

This was Atsumu. Your Atsumu. He deserved the world.

And yet, you were just… you.

Time seemed to pass as slow as humanly possible: all your classes droning on, your exam sucking the life out of you, your professors assigning loads of busywork for the weekend ahead. The walk back to your cramped, overpriced shithole apartment was bustling with people: couples going on dinner dates, partners buying last minute gifts, and the occasional groups of galentines. Thankfully, your roommates all had plans with loved ones or already left for the weekend, so you had the entire place to yourself to sulk!

Turning the key and walking inside, you were slapped in the face with color. The common room area was decorated with a couple red heart balloons and… a pink “happy birthday” balloon floating around?

Your eyes honed in on Atsumu standing in the middle of the living room, holding another pink happy birthday balloon.

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Y’have no idea how hard it is to find last minute stuff,” Atsumu sighed with a sheepish grin, "and I know it ain’t your birthday, but it was pink—a-and the color kinda matches, so…”

‘What was he talking about?’ he thought to himself, ‘oh god, please shut up.’

And the epiphany came crashing down upon you that maybe you never actually hated Valentine’s Day, you just wanted someone to love you every day, not just for one day of the year. You looked over to the chocolates on the counter and the flowers perched in a vase next to them—it was your favorite everything. On display before you was your favorite dessert, your favorite flowers, your favorite person—

“‘Tsumu…” you struggled to find the right words, “What is all this?”

He just shrugged, hiding the flush to his cheeks by scratching the back of his neck. “Ya’ve been all down in the dumps that you’re single ‘n shit, so i got some chocolates, some box wine, and ‘Samu’s hulu logged in so we can rot on the couch and watch anything ya want tonight.” 

Atsumu watched you break out in the biggest smile, almost splitting your face in two, and god, he knew he loved you.

You swiped a box of chocolates off the counter. “You know me too well.”

He returned your smile with one of his own, so handsomely crooked. “I know.”

As the hours passed, empty boxes of chocolates were scattered on the table, along with half-drank glasses from a second round of wine. The two of you devolved into sharing a blanket that was definitely too small for the both of you, resulting in you two occasionally tugging on it and grumbling, “gimme.”

“Woulda thought you’d have plans tonight,” you commented as an ad played on the TV, your voice attempting to sound as casual as possible.

He hummed, feigning nonchalance as well. “I do. I’m here, ain’t I?”

You actively couldn’t stop the snort that escaped you. “Be serious, ‘Tsumu.”

“What, can I not make my own kind of plans?” he huffed in reply.

“I meant a date, ‘Tsumu. Y’know, with a girl ya like.”

He hesitated, feeling slightly deflated by her response. “Yeah…?” His voice was uncharacteristically… soft. It may had just been the alcohol talking, but Atsumu wondered if the taste of your lips, now stained a soft pink, was any better than the vino you two shared.

The air in the room suddenly felt way too warm, and you could feel your face flush as you just silently stared at him, like you were some brainless neanderthal. You swallowed, only just now realizing how close the two of you were—no longer tugging on the blanket but practically cuddling. You felt the warmth of his thigh against your own, and you swore you could die right there on the spot, melting right into a puddle of goo. 

Clearing your throat, you mumbled, “Yeah.”

His eyes lazily bounced back and forth between yours, searching for something, and he let out a sigh. “Yer the smartest person I’ve ever known, but God, you can be so damn stupid sometimes.”

Before you had the chance to fire an insult back, you felt a pair of lips on yours, the movements gentle yet nervous. It was instinctual, bordering embarrassing, how fast you melted into the kiss. His tongue tasted of white chocolate truffles and red wine, the heady mixture causing you to let out the softest sigh in his mouth. Atsumu's hands gently cupped your jaw, his thumbs gently running along your cheekbones until his brain finally caught up to his actions.

He pulled away and watched you almost chase his lips, your eyes still fluttering with your skin bathed in the soft lamplight of the room. He quietly whispered, “Sorry, I–”

“Don’t you dare apologize, you dumbass. Just kiss me again.”

And you didn’t have to tell him twice. 

a/n: happy valentine’s day to all the happy couples and all the single people out there—single or not, here’s some atsumu to feed the delulu <33

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2025.

[all4aoki]

᱖ NOW PLAYING . . . Love Hangover Jennie

 ۫  ੭̲ SOMMARiE Valentine’s week is always a marathon for you, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

ׁ 𝑝oly!ot7 𝐸N- x f!reader ׅ ౨ৎ 𝓦c 6.1k ! & 𝓒w kissing, suggestive in Sunghoon’s & Heeseung’s part, YN accidentally burns herself, overall sleepiness, me guessing stuff about being an idol, not proofread ! ࿁ ⠀ ˚ BiBLiOTHÈQUE

📄 happy valentine’s day my loves! ♡︎♡︎

©all4aoki, 2025

You’d always loved Valentine’s Day. It never mattered if you hadn’t had a valentine, or had no plans surrounding the holiday, because the concept of the celebration of love was precious to you. Everything about the holiday was perfect in your opinion: the colors, the decorations, the food—all of it. And as the years went on and you finally had the privilege of celebrating with not just one, but seven of your soulmates, Valentine’s Day got even better. However, Valentine’s week was a bit of a marathon for you.

Jungwon had never understood why you never let any of them past the threshold of your room while you were getting ready, but as he stood in the door frame now, he knew. Because watching you get yourself dolled up to go on a date with him had him wanting to burst into your room and ruin the lip gloss you were smearing over your full lips. The warm lights of your vanity reflected onto your skin beautifully, and the flattering neckline of your white dress made your neck look extremely kissable–

“Don’t even think about it.” Your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts instantly. Your shining eyes meet his as you begin putting in your earrings, and Jungwon feels his heart melt a little.

He grins, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The way you tilt your head and how your neck flushes a deeper shade than your usual skin tone reminds Jungwon of why he loves teasing you so much. Seeing you flustered was so utterly adorable. But the small sigh that escapes you as you look back at your appearance in the mirror has him furrowing his eyebrows. Jungwon pushes off the door frame, crossing his arms as he enters your bedroom. This time, you don’t make any protests, which only makes his concern grow.

Jungwon leans down, carefully wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. He’s careful to not mess up your hair that you’d spent so long curling. “What’s wrong?” The smell of your perfume, the same vanilla one you’d been using for years now, is comforting, and Jungwon has to stop himself from pressing his nose against your skin. Instead, he keeps eye contact with you in the mirror.

Your hands come up to hold onto his forearms, the texture of the beige sweater he’s wearing soft under your fingers. “Nothing,” you reassure as you shake your head a little, “I just spaced out for a second.” Jungwon doesn’t seem to buy it though, the slight scrunching of his nose cluing you in.

“I know this week is gonna be busy for you… since you’re spending time with all of us. Individually–”

“It’s fine, Won, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you say as one of your hands moves to cup his cheek. “It might be tiring, but I want to give each of you the love you deserve.” That seems to do it, though, and you can see the way he visibly relaxes at your words.

“You’ll tell us if you need a break?”

You nod, but a part of you knows that even if you do get tired, the excitement and love would overpower that. This week and Valentine’s Day was about love, and you wanted to give all of your love and energy to your favorite people in the world.

“Good.” Jungwon smiles as he slowly stands up straight again. He offers you his hand, and you quickly turn off the lights on your vanity before you take it. His much larger palm closes around yours and a small rush of electricity goes through you from the contact. “Let’s get going then. Don’t want to be late for our reservation.”

Straightening out your skirt, you get to your feet. “All ready. M’excited,” you say with a grin. But when you raise yourself on your toes a little to kiss his cheek, your lips meet the back of his other hand.

“Can’t mess up your lip gloss, doll.”

The date with Jungwon is nothing but perfect and both of you return to the dorms with adorable pieces of pottery. Well, Jungwon’s is a little questionable, but he’d themed it around you and he was the one who made it, so it was flawless in your eyes. And you wondered, why had you been so worried about this week being draining? After spending the night with Jungwon, you’d felt refreshed and your heart was full of happiness. Just as the holiday intended it to be.

So, you were carrying an air of confidence with you as you sat across from Sunghoon at a restaurant the both of you frequented. It was on the fancier side, but when you both were in the mood for something a little more romantic, this place was always your first choice. The dim lighting and warm glow of candles on tables reminded you of how romantic your boyfriend could be. It was a side Sunghoon didn’t show often, but it was always there.

“Did you like the flowers?” he asks as you sip at the red Chateau Margaux wine you’d decided to indulge in that evening. Neither of you were big drinkers, but it felt fitting with the intimate atmosphere. Sunghoon was referencing the large bouquet of pink roses currently sitting in the car that was parked in the parking lot. At the thought of them, you feel your cheeks warm and your heart stutters with giddiness.

You nod, “Roses are the most Valentine’s flower you could get.” He lets out a small scoff that’s definitely a laugh in disguise. As he smiles, you can see his little fangs and the urge to kiss him comes over you.

“I know they’re not your favorite, but I thought they were fitting.”

“I love them,” you reassure as you twirl your fork around in the pasta you’d ordered. Sunghoon had gotten some kind of steak and you could smell it from across the table. His chocolate-colored eyes notice the way your own eyes linger on his dinner and he laughs softly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you watch him cut off a small piece of his steak before offering the fork to you. When you don’t move, he tilts his head in a gesture for you to take it. “Have a bite. I can practically see you drooling.”

“I am not drooling,” you protest, but you take the fork anyway. The steak is as divine as it smells. Much better than your pasta.

“Maybe not over the food…” With the way he trails off, you can tell what he’s implying and you resist the urge to throw the silverware you’re holding at him. Sunghoon grins cheekily at the angry expression on your face and how you can’t respond as you finish eating your bite. “You want to switch dishes, don’t you?”

You tried to school your facial expressions, but in truth, you did kind of want to. “That’s your food, Hoon, I’m not gonna take it from you–” Before you can finish your sentence, his pale, large hands are already swapping your plates. You swallow harshly, stomach doing flips at how caring he is. “You don’t mind?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, “Tonight is all about you.”

And he made that clear in more ways than one.

A sharp breath leaves you as your back meets the wall beside the door to Sangmi and your dorm. She was out with Intak. They probably hadn’t begun their own Valentine’s celebrations yet, but if you could remember correctly, he was asking her to be his Valentine tonight. But you couldn’t exactly think clearly thanks to Sunghoon’s lips on your neck.

The light drag of his teeth against the delicate skin sends a shiver through your body, and your hands grip his biceps over the blazer he’s wearing tightly. When he lightly bites down on a sensitive spot he’s well acquainted with, you yelp quietly, pressing your body to his. Sunghoon’s nose nudges under your jaw as he pulls away. No doubt his eyes are lingering on the red mark sitting on your neck now. Once he deems it good enough, his lips are on yours.

His movements are passionate and desperate, clearly not patient enough to wait to get you to your bedroom. Instead, his tongue slides past your lips. He deepens the kiss, one of his hands on your face tilting your head back to give him better access. His other hand grips the skirt of your dress, beginning to pull it up your thighs.

“Bedroom,” Sunghoon mumbles against your lips as he hikes your dress over your hips. Thankfully, you make it to your bed before your panties hit the floor.

The next morning, it’s hard for you to get out of bed. At first, you wake up slowly, the mid-morning sunlight filtering in through the curtains and caressing where your and Sunghoon’s bodies are tangled together in bed. You’d only gotten a few hours of sleep that night for… certain reasons, but when your eyes finally fluttered open, you didn’t expect it to be past noon.

“Shoot,” you mumble, fully sitting up in your bed as you notice all of the text messages from Riki. You were supposed to meet up with him an hour ago for his Valentine’s date. Sunghoon shifts next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he buries his face in your lap. Halfheartedly, you run your fingers through his hair to try and keep him asleep while you text Riki back.

Riki I’m outside your dorm. Let me in

You sigh softly as your fingers slow in Sunghoon’s hair. “Hoon,” you whisper as you set your phone down, turning your full attention to the man still asleep in your lap. “Hoon,” you repeat a bit louder. You just get a small hum in response. “Let go, baby, I’ve gotta go see Riki.” This time, Sunghoon lets out a hesitant grumble before loosening his arms around your waist. You smile softly and lean down to press a gentle kiss to his hair. “Stay in bed as long as you want…”

Ignoring your soreness and the heaviness in your eyes, you slip out of bed and quickly shrug on a random sweater and some jeans after replacing your undergarments from the night before. It was probably best to let Riki into your dorm first… then fix the rest of the mess Sunghoon had made you from the previous evening. Wincing a little, you did your best to exit your bedroom without making a sound, and your steps moved faster once you reached the door.

Riki’s tall frame appears as you swing the door open and as he opens his mouth to speak, you hastily press a finger to his lips. He tilts his head in confusion before his eyes find your neck and a look of realization fills his expression. Your face flushes from embarrassment.

“Sit on the couch. I’ll be quick,” you whisper to him as you let him into your dorm. Sluggishly, you go through your morning routine and apply a hefty amount of concealer. Both to the red bruises on your neck and to the dark circles under your eyes. After about another twenty minutes, you and Riki finally leave the dorm building.

You hold onto his arm tightly as the two of you walk through the streets of Cheongdam. “I’m sorry I slept late, Ki… I swear I had an alarm set.”

A laugh leaves him. “Must’ve slipped your mind from all of the fun you were having last night–”

“Nishimura Riki!” you exclaim, cheeks and neck warm from his teasing. Letting out a small huff, you still keep a firm grip on his arm. “Don’t say stuff like that in public…”

“Sorry, princess, you just look so funny when you get all embarrassed–” You cut him off with a soft smack to his arm. “Hey!” Riki whines. “I’m taking you shopping and in return I get hit?”

“Please, I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

The first store he takes you to is Chanel. While Riki isn’t a huge fan of the brand himself, he knows that you like a lot of their pieces. Maybe he could justify picking out and buying you a few things since you liked Chanel. He thought you’d be more excited about looking around, especially since he’d booked a VIP experience, but you still hadn’t moved from his side.

It was almost like you were leaning on him for support, like you were too tired to stand up by yourself.

“Ooh, Riki-chan, look at this dress,” you breathe, and–maybe he’d just been overthinking the way you were clinging to him. After all, you were often very touchy with him. And if something was wrong you’d tell him, right?

He looks at the dress you’re talking about, a rather simple and pretty black one. Strapless with a flowy skirt and a white rose on the center of the neckline. It would fall to about mid-thigh on you. “You should try it on. I want to get you some things today,” he says and, as expected, your wide eyes find his.

“You don’t have to buy me anything! I’m just glad I get to spend time with you.”

Riki tilts his head as his full lips raise into a small smirk. The sight has your heart racing. “If I want to buy you something, I’m buying you something.” He moves away from you, leaving you standing next to the dress. He’s probably going to look for more articles of clothing to make you try on. “Consider it payment for ditching me for Sunghoon-hyung this morning.”

“You–!”

Your youngest boyfriend ends up buying you quite a bit that day, most of them his selections of what you looked best in after modeling each piece he’d picked out for you. By the time you get back to the dorms, your feet hurt and your lack of sleep from the night before is catching up to you.

As you lay in Riki’s bed with him, cuddled closely to his side as a random movie plays in the background, your mind goes back to how many more dates you would have to go on this week. Excluding Valentine’s Day itself. You felt guilty for dreading the number of activities you would participate in, after all, you were an idol. You should be used to having so many energy-draining things to do in a day, much less a week. But the combination of your schedules and the time you were dedicating to your boyfriends, you were already feeling exhausted.

You drift off to sleep before the movie’s even a quarter of the way through.

Part of you is thankful, though, since you have to get up early the next morning for a schedule. With much-needed sleep and cuddles from Riki, you thought you’d be up and bursting with energy the next day, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. He had to practically drag you out of bed and to the bathroom for you to try and put yourself together a little. You weren’t sure why you were so tired, but you refused to let your body be the reason you weren’t able to follow through with all of your plans for the week.

It was Valentine’s Day week for goodness sake.

You had to keep reminding yourself that as Jake showed up just as you finished changing out of your clothes from the photoshoot you’d wrapped up. His big smile and excited eyes only make your guilt grow, and in turn, you push the thought of staying in for the night away.

“If only I was two seconds earlier,” he says as he enters your dressing room. He had knocked, and Jake was only teasing about seeing you indecent.

You playfully roll your eyes as you grab your bag from the table it’s sat on. “Not today, Sim.”

“I know, I know,” Jake laughs as he offers his hand for you to take. You quickly grab onto it and he squeezes your hand in his softly. “How was the shoot?”

Tiring. “It was good. They had me sit in water at one point and it was cold.”

He leads you out of the dressing room and towards the exit of the building. “Well, I can’t wait to see the results. I’m sure they’ll be amazing as always.” It was so sweet the way Jake always knew how to cheer you up. If you were feeling down, even for the stupidest of reasons, he made sure that you knew your feelings were valid and then followed up by distracting you in some way.

And while you weren’t feeling down today, you definitely weren’t feeling your best. But Jake was there like always, and this time for your Valentine’s date, he brought you to an arcade.

His eyes light up almost as bright as the neon lights from the various screens when he sees the variety of games, only for you to drag him over to the claw machines.

“Think you can win me a plushie today?” Jake’s track record wasn’t great. There were only two stuffed animals in your room from claw machines. He hadn’t won either of them. His lips press together in a determined expression and you giggle at the sight.

“Laugh all you want, angel, but you’re gonna be leaving with an armful of the goods.”

“Don’t call them that.” So while spending an obscene amount of money on tokens wasn’t Jake’s first idea for a date with you, he was still overjoyed to do it.

You walk ahead of him with the bowl filled with tokens he’d just purchased, taking him back over to the claw machines. “Okay… Which one d’you want?” You hand him the tokens before turning to the many options of plushies. A polar bear, some kind of snowman, a duck… When your eyes land on an orange cat your finger presses up against the glass.

“That one. The orange tabby.”

Jake scoffs. “If you wanted a cat, you should’ve brought Jungwon.” He pushes two of the tokens into the slot and the machine blares to life. The loud music and glaring lights immediately attack your senses, but you do your best to shake it off.

Your boyfriend steers the toggle with precision. Jake’s aim was good, but it depended if the claw machine wanted to cooperate today or not. And as the dog plushie is dropped one, two, three, four times, you figure that the machines aren’t in the mood to comply. You reach to pull at Jake’s sleeve. “Let’s go do something else.”

He shakes his head, his brown eyes locked on the treasures inside the glass as his fingers work over the joystick again. “No. I’m gonna win you something this time.”

“That’s sweet Jake, but don’t you want to go play some games–”

“I want to win you something.” His mouth presses into a thin line as he barely misses the dog plushie. “Wanna put two more tokens in for me?” You sigh, but you push the two coins into the machine, the lights and music roaring to life again.

The neon colors were beginning to make your head hurt as you leaned against the glass, the coolness doing little to wake you up as you made sure to stay out of the way so Jake could see what he was doing. Your eyes flutter. Maybe you could close them for a second to give them some relief? Jake was very focused on earning this stuffed animal for you anyway. You don’t even realize it when your eyes fully close, and the loud music and other sounds from the arcade do little to keep you present.

Only when Jake cheers victoriously, are you snapped out of the half-conscious state you're in. Your vision is blurry with sleep as your boyfriend squats down to retrieve the plushie before he holds it up for you to see. The excited smile on his face makes you feel guilty, considering it does little to push your exhaustion away.

Despite your attempts to match his enthusiastic smile, Jake notices your weary expression. His eyebrows furrow in concern and the grin drops from his lips as he lowers the plushie. Jake’s free hand comes up to rub your arm in a comforting manner. “You okay?”

You were most definitely not okay. You had never fallen asleep while doing an activity before, much less going on a date. And since Jake cared for you, he shared this information with the rest of your boyfriends, much to your dismay.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Heeseung asks you as he kills the engine of his car in the park’s parking lot. It’s hard to not be a little annoyed with the constant questions if you were okay. You knew that they were coming from a good place, that your boyfriends were just worried about you, but you had promised them you’d tell them if something was wrong. That thought is bitter to you as well, but you didn’t see getting small amounts of sleep as something that was concerning. What would be concerning is if you weren’t able to celebrate the literal holiday of love with them.

You reach across the center console to hold his hand. “I’m okay. If anything, I’m ready to watch this movie with you.” Heeseung’s doe eyes narrow at your words and you were hoping that he’d believe you. “I’ve always wanted to watch a movie from a projector.”

He sighs softly, his free hand coming up to rub at his face a little before he gives in. “Fine. But you’re not carrying anything. And I’m setting it all up.” Like that was a threat.

“That works for me,” you giggle as you let go of his hand and undo your seatbelt to hop out of the passenger’s seat.

True to his word, Heeseung somehow managed to carry the picnic basket the two of you had packed along with the box for the screen and the portable projector all at the same time. You’d teased him about his scrawny arms. He’d threatened to drive you back home. But you both had found a free spot in the grass to set up.

“Is it still crooked?” he asks as he sits next to you on the pink blanket you’d laid out. You had busied yourself with eating some of the chocolate strawberries Heeseung had bought while he had set up the movie.

You shake your head. “Just leave it. It looks good. Besides, I want to cuddle.” Heeseung laughs.

“We’re in public.” True, yes, but it was nighttime and there was hardly anyone in the area you’d picked. “Don’t want someone thinking we’re a weird PDA couple.”

“Oh please,” you scoff softly as Heeseung still moves to let you rest your head on his shoulder. Neither of you are paying attention to the movie, but the speaker on the projector sucks, so you can barely hear it anyway. “If either of us is a fan of PDA it’s you.”

“Maybe, but at least I’m taking other people’s eyes into consideration…” he trails off as you look up at him. A small shudder goes through you as his thumb comes up to wipe at the corner of your mouth. “You’re a messy eater.”

Your face warms at both the action and his words as you look back at the projector screen. “The strawberries are good.”

“Maybe I would know if you’d left some for me.”

Movies this week were apparently your worst enemy. Apart from sleep, of course, but each time that you watched one, you felt yourself lulling into a state of unconsciousness. This time though, you were determined to not fall asleep. But it’s easier said than done as you feel your eyelids begin to droop maybe halfway through.

Heeseung’s a small help, whispering in your ear and sending shivers through your nerves as he comments on the main character’s choices, but it’s still difficult for you to follow along with the storyline when you simply don’t care. Your breath hitches when he tucks his face into your neck, his nose pressing against your skin as you hear him inhale softly.

And when his lips brush against your pulse point, the kisses have the opposite effect that he intends them to have. It’s relaxing, the soft tickling sensation, and when Heeseung pulls away to have his lips find yours, your sleeping face greets him instead. It would be funny if he wasn’t so worried about you.

“I really am fine,” you try to convince your boyfriends as you all sit in the living room on the second floor of the dorms.

Jake gives you a look. “If that were true, you wouldn’t fall asleep while Heeseung-hyung’s trying to make out with you–”

“That’s beside the point,” you interrupt him, a small sense of embarrassment rushing through you. Last night hadn’t been your greatest moment, and while you felt horrible about it, Heeseung had assured you that it was okay. Only after saying ‘I told you so’, though. “The point is that there’s no difference from this week and every other week in my life. I’m always busy.”

“But you’ve never been this tired before,” Sunoo points out as next to you, Jungwon wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Sunoo-ie has a point. Maybe you should just stay in tonight,” Sunghoon suggests and you shake your head frantically.

“No! I’m not letting a little bit of tiredness ruin my Valentine’s week with you all.” You sigh softly as you watch Riki lean against one of the decorative tables next to the couch. “I want to give you all the love you deserve…”

Jay shakes his head from where he’s standing. “We don’t want you to be putting yourself at risk for us though. Even if it is just sleep, your body needs rest, YN-ie.” You huff. He’s right, of course. “There’s nothing wrong with staying in.”

“But I’ve been looking forward to my baking class with you all week,” you complain, feeling frustrated with yourself. “Eunchae-ssi said that the teacher we’re supposed to go see is really nice.” Each of the boys smiles a little at your whining.

“We can always reschedule, angel,” Jay reminds you, but you shake your head again.

“No, this place is popular… Please, Oppa, I want to go.”

You watch as Jay exchanges a look with Heeseung and you hate how it feels like you’re asking if it’s okay for you to go out and do something with them. You understand why, but you still don’t like it. After a moment, Jay meets your eyes again. “Alright. Let’s go. But we’re gonna go to bed early tonight, okay?”

Your heart races with relief as you nod excitedly, squeezing Jungwon beside you in a small hug before you stand. “Okay!”

The baking class starts fine. Jay and you had decided on making molten lava cookies, to satisfy both of your cravings for chocolate, and Eunchae had been right about how sweet the teacher was. She was able to instruct you both while giving you enough space to still have a bit of time just with each other. Problems only begin to surface again while you wait for the cookies to bake.

The teacher had stepped away for a moment to get you all some water, leaving you and Jay alone in the kitchen. You watched him fondly with half-open eyes as he began to wipe down the counter.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. It’s not your job to clean up the workspace.” The corners of his lips tilt up at your statement. The rag in his hands is dropped onto the counter as he glances at you and your sleepy expression.

“I don’t mind doing it. Figured it would help her out considering how messy we got.”

“That was all your doing, by the way.”

Jay laughs, “Sure angel. You totally weren’t the one to spill the flour because you couldn’t keep your eyes open.”

“Hey!” Your giggles are cut off when the timer on the oven goes off. Both of you look over to the oven and Jay moves to shut the timer off. “We should probably take them out so they don’t burn. Our teacher wouldn’t mind, right?” you ask as you shuffle over to lean against Jay’s side.

“She shouldn’t. Most people don’t enjoy eating burnt cookies,” he chuckles as he reaches for the oven mitts. You blink slowly, mind a little fuzzy as you grab them before he can.

“Let me. I feel like I haven’t been any help at all.” Jay lifts his hands in mock surrender as he moves to the side a little, giving you the room you need to get the sheets out of the oven. Carefully, you open the door of the oven and remove the two pans full of chocolate cookies. With the pans safely placed on the top of the counter, you remove the oven mitts and Jay turns off the oven.

The door to the kitchen swings open as the teacher enters again. “Oh, it smells so good in here!” In her hands are three glasses of water, and your boyfriend being the gentleman he is, rushes over to help her set them down. Your heart softens at how kind he is, but as you move to lean against the counter, your hand seeking the surface, a red-hot pain shoots up through your nerves, making you cry out softly.

Jay’s by your side in an instant, and you would almost feel bad for how he’s running back and forth in the kitchen if it wasn’t for the stinging your skin was feeling. He coos gently as one of his hands finds the small of your back, steadying you.

“Let me see, angel.” Hesitantly, you hand him the palm you’d burned on the still-hot cookie sheet. Jay tuts softly and you know you’re in for a scolding later. “You need to be more careful.” Or right now.

Thankfully, the teacher has aloe for even minor burns like these, and Jay helps you run your hand under cool water from the sink, caring as ever. “I am careful,” you protest quietly to Jay as the teacher retrieves the medicine for the barely there burn. “I’m just… tired.”

An immense weight was lifted off your shoulders as you finally admitted it, and the confession received the reaction you were expecting. Because the next day, Valentine’s Day itself, your boys had decided that instead of your one-on-one date with Sunoo, you would be spending the evening at the dorms, resting.

At least you were able to spend some time alone with Sunoo, though.

“I can’t believe I’ve been put on house arrest,” you mumble as he stands between your legs while you sit on the counter. He’s trying a new serum on you tonight, part of his Valentine’s present for you. Sunoo’s fingers gently massage the skin of your cheeks as he works the product into your pores.

“Should put you on house arrest more often. Seems like you can’t figure out what’s best for you–”

You smack his shoulder playfully, making Sunoo laugh. “I’ve learned my lesson.” You suck in a breath between your teeth. “I forget how much burns can hurt.” Sunoo’s laugh fades and is replaced with a look of worry.

“Does it still hurt a lot?” With a tight-lipped smile, you shake your head. The counter is cool under your legs and goosebumps rise on your thighs since you’re wearing pajama shorts instead of pants.

“Just a little. It’s still red. See?” You offer him your injured hand and Sunoo carefully takes it.

“Let’s put some more lotion on it. It’ll help it cool down.” He lets go of your hand, but you keep it raised as he moves to grab the cooling lotion Jay had purchased for you on your way home from the baking class yesterday. It’s like he’s handling a porcelain doll as your raven-haired boyfriend massages the lotion into your hand. His eyes never leave the red mark on your palm as your eyes never leave his face.

“Thank you for putting up with me,” you say softly. “I should say that to all of you… I’m sorry for not telling you all how tired I was, I just–” A heavy sigh escapes you as Sunoo’s eyes meet yours. “I just wanted this week to be perfect. You all do so much for me and I wanted to give you all of my time and love in return.”

Sunoo’s thumb brushes over your palm again. “You already do that every day. We all know how much love and care you put into your relationship with each of us… And we’re so grateful, princess.” He carefully lifts your hand to his lips, kissing the burn mark gently. “This week– this Valentine’s Day is perfect because we’re all together. No amount of missed dates could ever affect that.”

It’s hard not to feel like crying from his words, and your heart is touched by how Sunoo soothed you. Just like the cooling lotion on your burn. “Thank you, Sun.”

“Of course, princess,” he says as he helps you remove the pink skincare headband and then helps you off the counter. “Let’s join the others before they start getting crabby, hmm?” You laugh softly as you nod. Sunoo guides you out of the bathroom and back into the living room.

They’d gone all out in terms of decorating the second floor’s dorm. Cushions and blankets covered the ground in front of the couch, and they’d pushed the coffee table off to the side. From where the coffee table was, just in front of the TV, it’d been stocked with snacks and other little treats for you all to enjoy throughout the night. Fairy lights had been draped along the walls and set to a light pink color, enhancing the Valentine’s Day ambiance. Other than the fairy lights, there was only one other lamp on. From the ceiling were little pink and red heart-hanging decorations that sparkled when they caught the light from the fairy lights. In the corner of the living room were all of the gifts you've received from them. Having just opened them, you didn’t have the time to move them to your room yet.

But that didn’t bother you too much. Not when all of your boys were already lounging on the couch and the other cushions they’d placed on the floor. It was like your own little heaven and it made you sad to think about how it’d have to be cleaned up eventually.

“Did you guys have to be in there for five hours?” Riki asks, setting his phone down as you and Sunoo enter the living room. There’s a clear spot left for you in the center of the couch.

“It was only one hour,” Sunoo corrects as you bound over to the couch, practically jumping between Jake and Sunghoon. “Riki-ah, if you want me to do your skincare, all you have to do is ask.”

Riki’s quick to shake his head. Instead, he leans over Jake to kiss your cheek. “Do I look as refreshed as I feel?” you teasingly ask your boyfriends. As expected, a flood of compliments is fast to follow.

“You look beautiful” “You're glowing, Doll” “Your bare face is my favorite”

You can’t help the way your heart races at their words, and you cuddle further between Jake and Sunghoon as Sunoo sits on the floor in front of you with Heeseung, Jay, and Jungwon. There are seven sets of eyes on you as you laugh softly.

“Thank you all for this. I don’t know what I would do without each of you,” you say with a small smile on your face. “I love you all so very much.”

With the way they’re looking at you, you don’t need to hear them say the same words back to know they feel the exact same way. Still, you can’t help but feel your eyes water as each of your loves tells you how much they love you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Doll,” Jungwon whispers to you as he reaches up to squeeze your hand. You return the gesture before settling back down. Jay and Heeseung were trying to decide which movie to put on, but you couldn't care less when you were with the people you loved the most.

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

[lonely-ey3s]

Be Mine 🤍

Pairing: Joel Miller (no outbreak) x f!reader

Summary: After your recent divorce you decide to come back home to your old town. Valentine's has always been your favorite holiday but no one has gone out and made you feel worthwhile. When you get a secret Valentine's surprise, you don't know who it is or what to think. Little do you know it's Joel Miller who's had the biggest crush on you since you were in middle school together.

Warnings: mutual pining, mentions of divorce and a shitty partner, fluff, established friendship between Joel and reader, no use of Y/N.

A/N: just a little last minute valentine's day one shot to feed ya'll until the next chapter gets posted a little later than scheduled❣️✨

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics 

After moving back home to live with your dad after your messy divorce the last thing you wanted was to have Valentine's Day come around with no plans.

You openly loved the holiday and ever since you were younger went all out for it. So much so that you’d build your own box for the class to put their cards in, and even made your own cards, never settling for the store-bought, premade option.

Later in life when “Be Mine” cards and candy grams went out, the same care and attention was given to your partners, you always went above and beyond for them, however, it was rare whenever something was done for you in return of at all.

Your ex-husband, who you had dated since high school never did more than a last-minute card and flowers he picked up on his way home from work the same day, which were always the picked over ones. After all you had done for him, you felt deflated and defeated each year, so much so that on the last year you were married, you did and said nothing to see if he’d remember.

He remembered it for his assistant, but not for you you’d come to find out. 

You were helping in your dad’s diner set up Valentine’s Day decor on the 13th when Joel Miller, who you had known since middle school, a good friend of yours, came in and sat down at the bar, smiling softly, “Mornin’ cupid…” he teased.  

You chuckled, “Hilarious Miller…”

You took some tape and started putting it onto hearts and lips you had kissed on paper with lip stick and then you had cut out in different designs and shapes to place around the diner. 

“Still a big fan of the big ol’ Valentine's Day?” his eyes followed you as you walked around hanging up those decorations.

You nodded, “You betcha…” 

Ever since you came back home after being gone for almost 10 years, Joel had wanted to ask you out. However, every time he had the moment or courage to do so, something came up to pull him or your attention away from the question edging on his tongue. 

He’s had a crush on you since middle school but was never lucky enough to have your heart.

Years ago, Jesse, your ex, was an old friend of Joel’s but after he started dating you, Joel stopped coming around and you always wondered why.

What Joel never told anyone is he confided in Jesse that he had liked you, was asking him for advice on how to ask you out. He has always been on the shy side, and so big questions like this were a lot for him, he thought he could trust his friend with that information.

However, as a joke and also Jesse being an ass, asked you out.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be more than a date, he ended up liking you and one thing turned into another. In the end, you ended up getting married right out of high school and moving to New York for his job. 

Joel will always regret not asking you out when he had the chance. Now that you were here, single and was also sure in need of a real man to take care of you- which he wanted so desperately to do- he wasn’t going to let that opportunity slip from him.

Joel smiled and chuckled, “You got any plans tomorrow?” he took a sip of his coffee trying to act as nonchalant as he could. 

You shrugged, “Nope, just stayin’ home, might order in, rent a movie or something.” you smiled and looked back at him, “You? You takin’ Sarah out for dinner or something?” 

He shook his head, “Sarah has a school dance she’ll be goin’ to, but I’ve got a date, or I hope I will… gon’ ask her later today, surprise her.” he lied as he peeked up from his mug, winking. 

You smiled brightly, “Ooh that sounds lovely! Do I know this lucky gal?” you walked past and nudged his arm softly, trying to be supportive.

Deep down, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed he was going out with some other girl. A part of you kept wanting to ask him out, or at least for a cup of coffee outside of the diner, but every time you got the courage to ask or say something you got in your head, thinking you weren’t good enough for a man like Joel. He’s too good for you, too kind, too handsome, you weren’t his type, plus you married an old friend of his- you felt tainted by that. 

He shook his head, “I don’t think so, she’s from out of town…” he sighed softly, biting the inside of his cheek. 

You nodded and hung a few more hearts around the diner, “Well, I hope you have a lovely time Joel, you deserve a good night out.” you smiled kindly and then walked behind the counter and gathered a few things, “Excuse me, I need to run all this to the office…” you tucked your hair behind your ear and disappeared to your dad’s office. 

The next morning you woke up to a knock on your front door, you got out of bed and rubbed your eyes, opening your door to see an older delivery man holding a dozen red roses and a gift bag that was neatly wrapped. 

You smiled and blushed, “Yes?” 

He smiled brightly, “Special delivery miss!” he handed you the items and winked, “He said to tell you Happy Valentine’s Day.” he walked down your front porch and toward his truck. 

“He? Who’s he?” you shouted, confused. 

“Not at liberty to say!” he chuckled and got into his truck, driving off. 

You closed your door and went to your kitchen table, putting the gift bag and flowers down, seeing there was a small card attached to the flowers. 

You opened the envelope and sighed, “Oh Dad…” you said thinking he did this to make you feel better about being back here. 

To your surprise, it wasn’t your dad’s handwriting, but you had no idea whose it was. 

‘Happy Valentine’s Day beautiful! Please join me on the rooftop of Jasper’s for a candlelight dinner at 7 pm tonight.  -Your Valentine’

You opened the gift bag to find a nice red dress and a bag of candy hearts, however, they all said ‘Be Mine’. 

You blushed and looked at the flowers and items, no one had ever made a fraction of this effort, you had no idea who sent this or who you’d be meeting but you hadn’t felt this excited in a very long time. 

You had promised your dad you’d help him during the lunch rush as he had a Valentine’s special going so you went and just as you were about to wrap up and go home to start to get ready Joel strolled in smiling, “Hey Cupid…” he sat in front of you at the bar. 

You smiled and leaned against the counter, “Hey there!” you beamed. 

He chuckled, “What’s got you in this…” he waved his hand up and down, “... giddy mood?” 

You started to wipe down the bar and blushed, “Oh nothin’...” you smiled to yourself. 

He smiled, knowing exactly what had you in a good mood and was thriving knowing he was the cause of this. He came in for this specific reason, just so he could see the joy radiating off of you.

“Nothin’? Or nothin’ you wanna share?” he teased. 

You chuckled, “Ok fine…” you came back to where he was and leaned in close to him, “You wouldn’t believe what happened this morning…” 

He leaned in and looked into your eyes, biting the inside of his cheek, “Please… I’m on the edge of my seat…” he joked. 

You giggled and told him everything, blushing and smiling as you explained how excited you were but how a part of you was nervous because you had no idea who it was. 

Joel smiled and shrugged, “I’m sure there’s no need to be nervous, this guy seems pretty serious about you…” 

You blushed and looked down shyly, “You think so?” 

He nodded, thinking ‘You have no idea how crazy I am for you.’, but then softly said, “I know it Cupid.” 

You looked up at him and smiled, “Thanks for easin’ my nerves Joel… but uh… I need to go, gotta go get all primped up for Mr. Valentine…” you smirked before throwing the towel you had in the laundry bucket and then grabbing your purse and walking towards the door before turning back, “Oh, good luck on your date tonight!” you smiled softly before leaving and walking home. 

You spent the next 3 hours getting ready. Shaving every inch of your body you thought needed to be shaved. You tweezed your eyebrows and even waxed your upper lip which you hadn’t done in months.

You were given a red silk dress that made you feel so fucking sexy that whoever was doing this already made you feel like a million bucks. 

You lightly curled your hair but for the most part kept it untouched, feeling the dress did enough to leave your hair pretty much alone. You did a light amount of makeup but by the time you were finished and looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt amazing. 

You gathered your things in a small purse you had and brushed your teeth for the 5th time before leaving the house to drive to Jasper’s. 

You got there right at 7 and before you could even get to the hostess table a young man cleared his throat and smiled, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the roof…” 

He blushed and nodded, following him as he led you up to the roof. 

There was a small table with heart balloons anchored down and a small intimate candlelight lit with rose petals littering the table and ground around you. 

You lightly giggled and saw someone with their back turned to you as they were looking at the cityscape from this view, from where you were, nervously practicing what to say. 

You cleared your throat, “Happy Valentine’s Day…” 

You watched as the man turned around to reveal Joel, with a bouquet in his hand. 

You blushed and instantly smiled brightly, “Joel?!” 

He chuckled, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Cupid…” the slowly walked up to you, “These are for you…” 

You looked at the flowers and shyly took them, brushing your fingers against his, “Thank you… they’re beautiful…” 

He was mesmerized by you, caught up in your beauty. You looked better than he could have ever dreamt in the dress you had on, “Not as beautiful as you…” he said before he could catch himself. 

You looked down shyly and blushed, smiling like an idiot, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You uhm… you look very handsome yourself.” you looked up at him and bit your bottom lip, catching his eyes. 

He grinned and leaned down to kiss your cheek softly, “Thank you sweet girl…” he swallowed and took a breath in, feeling the nerves melt and something else seep in, something more tender and loving. 

You closed your eyes when his lips touched your cheek and inhaled slowly, taking in the moment. He cleared his throat and nodded shyly towards the table, “Please…” 

You started to walk over to the table, he instinctively put his hand on the small of your back as you walked, the small gesture sending bolts of electricity through your body. 

He pulled out your chair and as you sat down he pushed it in for you before he sat down across from you. 

—

The two of you sat and flirted, caught up more about each other's lives over the last 10 years. Eventually, Joel put his hand on the table mid-conversation and you took it, wanting to have some type of physical connection to him after feeling his fingers earlier. 

The restaurant brought out a delicious meal, one that Joel had picked for the two of you before tonight, knowing what things you liked and focusing on that. At the end of the meal, you both were sharing a bowl of mint ice cream, which he knew was your favorite when you took a bite and looked towards him. 

You smiled and blushed at him, “You’re so far away…” you teased. 

He bit his lip and chuckled, “You’re right, this simply won’t do any longer darlin’...” he reached and grabbed the leg of your chair, pulling you towards him. 

You giggled and held on before blushing and looking up at him as he was now less than a few inches from your face with how close he pulled you. 

“Better?” he asked, looking down at your lips before looking back into your eyes. 

You hummed and tilted your head, blushing, “There’s… still missing something…” You pretended to think, “Oh that’s it… this…” you leaned in a tad to hover over his lips, “In the spirit of those candy hearts, ‘Kiss Me’...” 

He grinned and nodded a tad before reaching his hand up to cup your cheek and pull you close, connecting your lips with his, softly kissing you a couple of times before he pulled back just a tad and chuckled, “I’ve dreamin’ about your lips on mine for a lifetime. I’m never lettin’ you go…” he kept his eyes closed as he rubbed your nose against his. 

You smiled widely and licked your bottom lip, tasting him, “Never let me go then… I’m yours.” you whispered, leaning against his hand. 

He smiled and reconnected your lips with his, kissing you passionately and deeply, after whispering, “... and I’m yours…”  

[bitchinbarzal]

My perfect Valentine | M Knies

summary: valentine’s day has never been your thing, but matthew has a way of making even the simplest moments feel special.

-

Valentine’s Day has never been your thing.

Not in the love is stupid kind of way, because you do love love, but in the Valentine’s Day is an overpriced, overhyped Hallmark holiday way. The restaurants jack up their prices, the flower shops sell out of roses in hours, and somehow, every single rom-com on the planet plays on a loop.

But when you started dating Matthew, you learned something very important: he loves Valentine’s Day.

Not in the grand gestures and flashy romance kind of way, but in the little things mean the most kind of way.

Like how he makes it a point to have pink roses waiting for you every year, even if he has to order them weeks in advance. Or how he insists on making breakfast because “it tastes better when I cook it for you” Or how he always, always makes sure you feel like the most important person in the world—even on a day you don’t care much about.

This year, he has a game, which means you won’t see much of him, but that doesn’t stop him from going all out.

You wake up to the smell of coffee and something sweet.

The other side of the bed is empty, but the warmth lingering on the sheets tells you Matthew hasn’t been gone for long. You stretch, rubbing your eyes before padding into the kitchen, where you find him standing at the stove.

He’s still in his pajama pants, his hair a mess, a concentrated look on his face as he flips a pancake. The sight makes you smile.

“You’re up early” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

Matthew grins, glancing over his shoulder. “Had to get a head start. Big day”

You roll your eyes “It’s just Wednesday”

“And Valentine’s Day” He turns around, wrapping his arms around you “You know the rules. No Valentine’s Day slander allowed”

“I wasn’t slandering”

“You were thinking about slandering”

You laugh, tilting your head up to kiss him “Fine. I’ll behave”

Satisfied, Matthew lets you go, turning back to the stove “I made your favorite”

You glance at the counter, where a plate of chocolate chip pancakes sits next to a pink envelope. Next to it, a vase filled with delicate pink roses. Your chest warms.

“You do this every year” you say, running your fingers over the petals.

Matthew shrugs “You act surprised every year”

You don’t know why you do. It’s just him. He loves making you happy, and he’s never needed an excuse to do it.

You pick up the envelope, looking at him “Can I open it now?”

“Only if you’re prepared to cry”

You roll your eyes, but when you open the card and see his familiar handwriting, you know he might be right.

Matthew has a game that night, so you don’t expect much else.

You meet him at Scotiabank Arena before warmups, handing him his pre-game coffee like always. You’re barely able to say Happy Valentine’s Day before he’s being ushered into the locker room, leaving you to watch the game from your usual seat.

It’s a good game. A win.

By the time he comes out of the locker room, he’s grinning, hair still damp from his post-game shower.

“You played great” you say, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek.

“All for you, sweetheart”

It’s cheesy, but it makes you blush anyway.

It’s late by the time you get home, and you assume the night is over.

But Matthew has other plans.

As soon as you step inside, he tugs you toward the kitchen, where two plates of takeout are waiting. Your favorite place—the one that’s always too busy to get into on Valentine’s Day.

Your heart melts “How did you—”

“Ordered it this morning before they got too busy” he says, pulling out a chair for you.

You sit, watching as he sets a candle in the middle of the table, lighting it with a flick of his wrist. It’s not grand or flashy. It’s just the two of you, eating takeout at midnight, with a candle flickering between you.

And it’s perfect.

After dinner, you curl up on the couch, tucked into his side. He’s warm, solid, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your arm.

“Good Valentine’s Day?” he asks softly.

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze “The best”

Matthew smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple “Told you. No Valentine’s Day slander allowed”

You laugh, shaking your head, and when he kisses you, slow and sweet, you think maybe you’re starting to like Valentine’s Day after all.

[thatguyjam]

Highschool Sweethearts - Finale!

Highschool Sweethearts Masterlist <3

How Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly, Carlos Sainz, and Logan Sargeant would celebrate Valentines day with their Boyfriend today

Oscar Piastri -

Oscar would want to wake up really early to get you breakfast in bed, but sleep through his alarm, so you both end up waking up at 10 in the morning. He ends up feeling really bad, so he runs you a nice bath with (battery run) tea lights, a bath bomb, and some rose petals. The two of you then go out to brunch at a nice restaurant and spend most of the day around town taking pretty pictures of each other and just enjoying each other's company. By that night, Oscar's original plans are back on, as he tells you to get dressed nicely, and re-greets you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a tux of his own, before taking you to your shared favorite restaurant for a nice dinner, were Oscar tried to play the perfect gentleman and only managed to set you into fits of giggles. In the end, back in your apartment, the two of you would settle on a cheesy romance movie and snack on chocolate covered strawberries all night in matching pajamas.

Max Verstappen -

Max would manage to wake up early enough to wake you up with breakfast, as he went out as early as he could to get you flowers and pastries from your favorite bakery, set on a nice tray that he had bought just for this day. Waking you up, he pulled you next to him, covering your face with kisses and bringing the flowers to your chest so you could wake up to the smell. After breakfast, the two of you just spent the day in bed with your pets, who all had formed a big pile between you two. By the time it was the evening, both of you were too comfortable to really want to go outside, instead canceling your plans and ordering in, putting on comedies and dramas to watch in bed together with your little furry babies.

Pierre Gasly -

In true French fashion, Pierre always tried to make every Valentines better than every one before. Learning from that very first one, he always was sure to have nothing scheduled for the day, to the point where it was in his contract with Alpine. Like every year, the two of you would sleep in before getting donuts when you finally felt awake enough, this year, taking Simba for a short walk, and then collapsing back into bed for more cuddles for the foreseeable future. Even an hour before your reservation that night, Pierre began preparing for it, getting dressed, making sure you were dressed, and leaving early to make sure you were on time. When you returned from dinner, you opened the door with Pierre behind you to a path of rose petals leading to the bedroom, where Simba was laying down in a heart of rose petals with a small box by his nose. Pierre went and took the box before going on one knee and after giving a whole speech in French, then asked one question,

"Veux-tu m'epouser?"

Carlos Sainz -

Since the two of you lived in Madrid and Monaco, the two of you would often spend your holidays in Barcelona, giving you the opportunities to go to the restaurants you loved as a child, visit the shops, and see all of your old friends. This Valentines in particular, Carlos had many things planned. First a visit to a bakery that you always went to whenever you were in Barcelona, before you and Carlos picked up each other flowers from two separate stands in town, and then stopping back at the hotel to rest for the evening and put the flowers together in a vase. After a nice nap in each other's arms, the two of you headed out yet again for dinner. After dinner, which was rather peaceful, mostly just filled with Carlos' chatter and your occasional input, you decided to again return to your hotel with a box of chocolates each, and simply watch whatever was on the TV at the time, while talking about whatever came to your minds and eating your weights in chocolate, diet be dammed.

Logan Sargeant

Normally you and Logan ended up spending Valentines day resting from the pressure that Williams put on him, but for once, Logan felt secure in his position, and had enough time off around Valentines day to really celebrate. The two of you spend the morning lounging around your house in Florida, before heading out to brunch and then out onto Logan's boat. For the rest of the afternoon, the two of you spend your time swimming, and tanning on the boat, all while Logan spends the entire afternoon talking about anything and everything as normal, as you listen with a loving smile on your face, the man you love, with his spark back. Later that night, the two of you picked up some dinner to go before settling in to binge watch a new show you'd been talking about; surrounded by Logan, with his smiles and his hugs, it was one of the best Valentines days in quite a while.

"Veux-tu m'epouser?" - Will you marry me?

Guys there are only so many ways to celebrate Valentines.

Banner Credits: @enchanthings-a

Taglist: (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl

[caitchercatlady]

How the TWST Boys Spend Valentine's Day w/You!

The Third Years

Trey Clover

This should be a day in which Trey gets a thank you break for all he has done for you and the rest of Heartslabyul. There is supposed to be a wonderful bakery in Foothill Town, and though it's not a complete break away from sweets, at least Trey doesn't have to bake. The both of you share a chocolate cake, which will lead to some staining of the face. Trey offers to clean the chocolate off you...the same way you two cleaned the plate.

Cater Diamond

Has a little bit of social media envy around this time of the year. He already planned on giving you little gifts anyway, but it would be nice to record the whole thing, too. All of your delightful reactions will be posted online for everyone to see, comment, and heart on Cater's MagiCam page. Cater may not be the mushy type, but you're gonna change that when you surprise him with a cheek kiss on live.

Leona Kingscholar

Doesn't believe he has time for holiday of love cheer. He's about to learn that you do. You don't have to do anything too active. Just spending time under the NRC garden trees is enough. Leona lets you play with his hair as long as you don't make it all messy. Oh, you move his hair just enough that it still remains perfectly...unkempt as it usually is. Then, his forehead is shown just enough for some cheeky, soft, and cute peaks.

Vil Schoenheit

Not the one to disappoint his date on the Day of Romance. He shall take you to the finest place in Foothill Town for dinner and he shall gift you the finest present he can think of to make you smile. All of this to show you how much he cares for you. Then, as you take a fine walk along the pier, gazing up at the brightest of stars, the two of you will share a lovely kiss of romance.

Rook Hunt

Knows how to make your perfect Valentine's Day (I mean, are we surprised?) Whatever your favorite things in the world are, he will deliver them. Wherever place you wanna go, he will take you there. Whatever your favorite song is, he will sing it. Your dream place to be kissed, as long as he has your consent, he shall make your dream come true.

Idia Shroud

Not the one to go public on the holiday of love (in which he most likely loathes). He's already been trapped by capitalism. He doesn't need another reason to go deeper. You can tell he's not in the mood to be alone as he asks you join a server and a play a few rounds to distract him from the red and pink heart fodder. All's harmless in an MMO farming game, right? He must've forgot that the game had a kissing feature.

Malleus Draconia

Has been aware of the holiday, but has never gotten to experience it for himself (as he hasn't had many chances to celebrate). He's overheard Lilia gushing over how much of a romantic you are, and Malleus can't ignore that information. But what can he do to express his wishes to be yours for the day...or maybe more after. At night, when you least expect he, he poofs over to Ramshackle, violin in tow. The sweet music captures you immediately. Malleus will float up to your window, prepared to receive your sentiment. A simple, yet thankful kiss on his forehead is enough for Malleus's chest to thump more than his heart could ever muster before.

Lilia Vanrouge

He's been so busy with...other things that Valentine's Day has been one of the holidays that slipped his mind until he arrived at NRC. His last few attempts at getting into the holiday spirit were...attempts. Now that he has you, his platonic cards to his friends and love cards for his family are top notch. How can he ever thank you? A kiss on the hand, perhaps? He was raised in the traditional ways after all.

[1000plants]

Holidays - Valentines

Bucky Barnes x reader (GN)

Summary: An accidental series centered around the various holidays with my beloved Bucky Barnes  

Warnings- Soft!Bucky (a warning bc oh god I love him he's a cutie patootie), my overuse of italics and commas. 

Word count- 1.2k

Author's Note- Happy (late) Valentine's day! Hope you  are all having a lovely day <3 I was gonna try to have this done on time but college kicked my ass and I decided I’d rather spend my valentines night with my amazing girlfriend lol xoxo

Masterlist

Read 🦃 🎄 and 🎉

==================================

“No, Bucky, seriously,” The words tumbled out of your mouth quicker than you planned, a few incoherent words sputtered out until you got them under control again, “sweethart, it’s beautiful, I love it.”

You placed your hand on his arm for a moment, giving it a gentle squeeze before you let your mind take in the room again. This valentines day was supposed to be simple, considering you had been in a “will they/ wont they” relationship with him since about November. Nothing was even fully confirmed until that new year's party!

Though, Bucky apparently hadn't shared the same sentiment of keeping it simple.

“Are you sure?” Bucky nervously asked, brows pulled tightly together as he studied the way you turned your head around the room. You hadn't ever heard this level of vulnerability in him before, his voice was low and slightly gravely. He hadn't spoken much since he knocked on your door and asked you to join him in the living room.

“It’s… wow,” You mumbled, eyes jumping from decoration to decoration, trying to take it all in. There were balloons on one side of the room, pinned up against the floor to ceiling windows that spelled “LOVE” in red kevlar. In the same type of balloon, hearts were floating up to the ceiling, just a few feet above Bucky’s head with white ribbons dropping down from them.

The couch was decorated with the normal valentines decor that Pepper always set out, simple heart shaped throw pillows and white fluffy blankets draped over it. Alpine curled up tightly on the back of the couch, almost hiding in the fuzz. On the small coffee table in the center was a large vase of your favorite flowers, neatly trimmed and clearly from a nice florist and not just the local corner store. There were valentines themed garland strung around the walls, small pink and red hearts tied together with white twine against one of the other walls. Rose petals scattered on the coffee table (one had very distinct teeth marks from a certain feline), forming a heart around the vase.

It was really sweet of Bucky to do, truly! But, it seemed a bit much considering how long the two of you had been together. It seemed Alpine could read your mind, she uncurled her body and stretched dramatically.

“I just, know, wasn't expecting so much, Buck…” You admit, turning around towards him with a soft smile on your face. You glance at Alpine, scratching behind her ear for a moment before she jumped off the couch and trotted up to Bucky

She had been watching the whole thing unfurl, from Bucky setting it all up hours ago, to Sam and Steve doing damage control, to Bucky anxiously dragging you in. She had been silently watching it the whole time.

Bucky scooped up Alp in his arms almost the moment she came to his leg, “I know, that's my fault,” he nods, mirroring your smile when it was clear you weren't truly upset.

“It felt like a big day, and…” Bucky trailed off slightly, clearing his throat as he looked at you. You took a step closer to him, the biggest block between you being the cat. His eyes were a beautiful blue that you could get lost in, but you could see the way they flickered as he focused on each of your eyes, taking in the rest of your face as he did so. He swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing, “I wanted you to feel special.”

It was impossible to hold back the stupid grin that spread across your face. He wanted you to feel special? 

Didn't he know that the way your heart fluttered was because you knew he cared? Didn't he know that your brain kinda stopped working every time he silently held the door open or grabbed your coat for you? Did he know you never felt like anything less?

“I do feel special,” You murmured softly, a small laugh bubbling up. Alpine let out a small huff, the sound seemed too big for her little body, “What?” you chuckle, both you and Bucky looking down at her.

Alpine just blinked, the amount of sass in her gaze was absolutely unmatched. BUcky grinned, shifting her weight to one of his arms and petting her with the other. She almost immediately started to purr and melt into his hold. Oh, she was definitely a daddy's girl. Spoiled fuckin’ rotten.

“She’s jealous,” Bucky answers under his breath. You could feel his gaze on you as you continued to pet Alpine.

“She’s pissed realizing you did all of this for me and not her,” You laugh, glancing at Bucky then behind you to the bouquet. One of the flowers in there was a lili, both you and Bucky were completely aware they were dangerous to cats, but Alpine did not eat plants.

She merely decided they deserved to be on the floor instead.

Bucky laughed, a fuller laugh that caused Alp to shake slightly. She only tolerated him doing that, anyone else and she’d leave. He nodded with your statement, “I had to put sticky tack on the vase,” he explains, corners of his eyes crinkling as he talks, “She was hellbent on knockin’ ‘em over.”

You playfully narrowed your eyes at Bucky, shaking your head as if scolding him, “Because they belong on the floor, obviously!” you tease. Alpine seemed to get the hint that she was outnumbered in this, and squirmed out of Bucky's arms. She landed with a graceful thunk on the ground, silently tip-tapping her way back to the coffee table.

“... and she’s gonna try again-!” Bucky quickly realized, stepping around you quickly to grab Alpine before she could jump onto the table again.

He vaguely plops her back down in the doorway of the living room, she glares at him for a moment before doing a slow blink. She then ducks her head to look at you, you give her a challenging look back in return. You raise your eyebrow, both of you in a silent battle that makes Bucky roll his eyes. Alpine acquiesces, with a slow blink and flick of her fluffy tail she stalks out of the room. Presumably to go bother Steve for a second dinner.

“She’s a little hellion,” you murmur, rubbing your face as Bucky closes the distance between the two of you. His arms wrap around your waist, pressing a light kiss to your temple. Your body relaxes into his.

“Mmh,” he hums in agreement, pressing his nose against your neck. You both stood there for a moment before he spoke again, “you sure the room isnt too much? ‘Cause I have a dinner planned too.” he mumbles.

You laugh in disbelief, hands on his biceps as you pull back to look at him, “I thought we were keeping it simple this year?”

Bucky shrugs, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, “This is simple, darling.”

“Barnes, I swear…” You jokingly huff, eyes rolling. Your protests and following complaints were cut off as his lips pressed against yours. It was gentle and sweet. You grin against his lips, meeting his movements which stayed slow.

There it was…

Simple.

[scarletqueenx]

Valentines Encounters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and on your way to a party you get stuck on an elevator with a stranger.

Word Count: 2393

Tags/Warnings: fluff and Dean being a flirt

A/N: first time writing a one shot so bear with me

After a rather messy breakup with your ex at the end of December, your best friend had insisted that you join her at this “little” Valentine's Day party that her co-workers were going to attend. After she let you spend the Holidays drinking your own tears and eating more ice cream than you could count while watching rom-coms, you knew you had to accept her invitation and show up. 

So after spending most of the day lying in your bed, you finally decided to get up and dress appropriately for the party. Red had always been a color that suited you well and brought out the color of your skin and eyes. But Valentine's Day was by far your least favorite holiday of the year.

You took a deep breath as you stepped into the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest. 

You knew there would be boys at the party, and the thought of meeting them made you uneasy. Your friend, whom you loved dearly but hated when she did these things, had made clear that her intention was for you to end up going home with one of them that night. The thought made your stomach churn.

That wasn't you. One-night stands had never really resonated with you. You were a relationship person.  

As the elevator began to descend, you caught sight of a man already standing in the corner. His head bowed over a phone, his face illuminated by its screen. He was undeniably handsome, in a rough-around-the-edges sort of way.

As your gaze lingered on his face, you couldn't help but notice the small details that gave him that roguish charm. His stubbled jawline, the slight furrow of his brow as he concentrated on the phone, and the dampness of his freshly washed hair.

His head suddenly lifted, as if sensing your stare, and you quickly looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed you watching.

Your cheeks burned, and the flush rose to your ears as you bit your lower lip chastising yourself for letting your curiosity get the better of you and ending up getting caught checking out a complete stranger.

In an effort to distract yourself, you turned your attention to the floor numbers that flashed right above the elevator door. 12… 11... 10...

At first Dean didn't even notice your presence, or the fact that the elevator had stopped on another floor of the building. Truth is, he was tired after a long day of work at Bobby's auto shop. He had originally planned to stay home, watch whatever was on TV and go to sleep. But after taking a shower and flipping through several channels, Dean realized that they were only showing chick flicks that day.

Valentine's Day was the stupidest holiday for him, something that set him apart from his brother Sam, who was especially excited about his date with his fiancée, Jess. Sam cherished Valentine's Day and loved to give his fiancée gifts and prepare the most romantic dinners possible. 

Frustrated by all the propaganda, Dean had finally decided to go down to a bar to try and distract himself and was now trying to get some of his friends, like Cas or Benny, to join him, but they all seemed too busy with their respective partners.

The silence in the cabin was almost deafening, the only sound was the soft hum of the elevator engine. You fidgeted nervously with your purse strap and glanced at the stranger out of the corner of your eye.

He was still engrossed in his phone, running his finger across the screen as he read intently. His concentration seemed unwavering, as if he was deliberately avoiding acknowledging your presence.

9... 8... 7...

The tension in the elevator seemed to thicken with each passing second, the silence between you and the stranger almost palpable. You felt a shiver run up your spine, unsure if it was the nerves of the party or the sudden chill in the air.

You should’ve grabbed a better jacket that covered you better.

The stranger finally looked up from his phone, stuffing it into his pocket as he ran a hand through his hair. His gaze darted around the small cabin before landing on you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed your nervous demeanor.

"You okay?" His deep voice broke the silence, a hint of curiosity in his tone. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest as he studied you.

The elevator jolted suddenly, the car coming to a halt between floors with a sharp jerk. The lights flickered and then went out completely, pitching the cabin into darkness.

The sudden darkness enveloped you, as he let out a curse under his breath that you barely managed to make out.

"Come on.” He grunted with irritation.

“Please tell me it's not what I think it is…” You asked in a nervous gasp.

He couldn't help but let out a chuckle as he soothed his own nerves in an attempt to reassure you.

“Sorry, sweetheart. But it looks like we're stuck.”

The realization that you were, quite literally, trapped with a stranger made you even more uneasy. Your hands rose to cover your face as you groaned.

“Oh, God. You've got to be kidding me. My friend is going to kill me.”

"Relax, sweetheart. It's not the end of the world." His voice was surprisingly gentle. You felt him move towards you, his fingers closing around your wrists, carefully tugging your hands away from your face.

The emergency lights lit up just above the elevator door, illuminating your faces. It was then, in spite of the red color of it, that you could make out the bright green color of his eyes and the freckles adorning his features like stars in a dark sky.

“Although I would let your boyfriend know that you won't make it on time for your date.” He said. "Could be a while before they get the power back on."

A frown adorned your face at his words. What the hell was he talking about? 

“Oh... No. I... A friend invited me to a party.” You stuttered nervously. “I don't... No boyfriend is waiting for me.” You finally managed to say as you realized what day you were living in and the clothes you were wearing. It was Valentine's Day, of course the stranger had assumed you were on your way to a date.

“Oh really? So… you’re all dressed up like this, and yet there’s no lucky guy waiting for you on Valentine’s Day? Damn… that’s a shame.”

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling a mix of flattery and embarrassment as he took in your outfit and the nervousness radiating off you.

"I... yeah.” You admitted sheepishly. “I don’t mind, though. Valentine’s Day is just another day. My friend just wants me to forget my ex.”

“Yeah. Totally with you on that. Valentine’s Day is just another day… just a bunch of overhyped, commercialized bullshit.” He released your wrists.

His touch lingered on your skin for a moment, and you found yourself missing the contact already.  

His words echoed your own thoughts, and you found yourself nodding in agreement.

"Exactly." You sighed, leaning back against the wall. "It's just a day for florists and chocolate companies to make a quick buck. I never really understood the hype."

He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the confined space of the elevator. 

"You're not wrong.” He admitted, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "It's just a Hallmark holiday, if you ask me."

He leaned back against the opposite wall, mirroring your pose. His gaze never wavered from your face as he continued to study you.

Your eyes met for a brief moment, and you found yourself unable to look away from his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you that was both captivating and unnerving at the same time.

"But I have to admit.” He continued, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You do look damn good in that outfit."

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks grow warm again. 

"Oh, um... thanks." You managed to stammer out, feeling slightly flustered. 

 “I’m Dean by the way.” He smiled.

Your breathing calmed slightly as you told him your name, smiling back at him.

"I have to ask.” He continued, his tone shifting to something more teasing. "Is that outfit for the party, or are you just trying to impress me?"

His words were playful, but you sensed a hint of seriousness behind them. Was he genuinely asking, or was he just flirting with you?

You couldn't be sure if he was serious or just having fun, but the thought of him being genuinely interested in you made you feel giddy. 

You shook your head, trying to keep a straight face. "Just for the party.” You replied, your voice betraying a hint of embarrassment.

The man chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. 

He shifted against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. 

"I have to say, sweetheart, you're making it really hard for me to focus on anything other than how cute you are all flushed and the way that dress hugs your curves."

Oh, he was definitely flirting with you and you had no idea on how to respond to that.

What did your best friend always said? ‘Act like you get compliments like that every day’. Yeah, great advice if it were true. You never got compliments, not even form your ex. God, he was such a douchebag.

"You're a smooth talker, aren't you?" You retorted, hoping it sounded flirtatious and not as if your heart was about to thump entirely right out of your chest.

His smirk widened at your response.

"Just being honest.” He shrugged. "I can't help it if you're easy to compliment."

Your cheeks flushed even more at his words, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves at the way he was looking at you. You had never had such shameless flirting directed your way before, and it was both thrilling and a little bit unnerving.

"I... uh..." You stuttered, tripping over your words as his gaze lingered on you.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. 

"I guess you don’t have a girlfriend either or you wouldn’t be flirting with me right now.” You don’t know were you got the boldness to say that, but there was no way back.

His eyebrows raised slightly at your words, as he was taken aback by your sudden boldness. 

“Sorry. I… I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just not use to this.” You quickly explain. 

You didn’t want the stranger you were literally stuck with to hate you or something like that.

“Use to what?” He frowned.

“You know. This.” You pointed to him and yourself a couple of times. His eyebrows raised once again as a smirk appeared on his lips. He was clearly enjoying your nervousness. “This whole flirting thing.”

“But you said you had a boyfriend, right?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“Yeah, I did. We just… never flirted, I guess.” 

“You don’t say.” He took a step closer, his eyes roaming over your face with a sly grin. "I find that hard to believe, sweetheart. A girl like you, all dressed up like this, and you've never had boys making fools of themselves to flirt with you?"

Your cheeks grew redder as he spoke, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I... well..." You stammered, unsure of how to respond. “I’m pretty sure my friend wanted this to be the first day.”

“Well, guess she got what she wanted.” He said playfully.

“Guess you’re right.” You smiled back at him, feeling a little more comfortable as seconds passed. Although, the tension between you and him only grew. “Thanks for saving me from having to go to that stupid Valentine’s party.”

Dean’s smile grew as his eyes softened while lingering on your face.

“Thank you for saving me from another lonely night at a bar.” He replied.

You chuckled at his words, realizing the humor in the situation.

"Ah, yes, because being stranded in an elevator is so much better.” You teased with a smirk.

He let out another chuckle as he leaned against the wall next to you.

"I think being stuck here with you definitely beats almost anything."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words, his gaze still fixed on you. It was as if the world outside the elevator faded away, leaving only the two of you in this confined space.

“Almost?” You raised your eyebrows playfully.

“Well, I don’t think it would beat a real date with you.” He responded as his gaze lowered to your lips.

He was so close, you could feel the heat radiating off his body and smell the subtle hint of his cologne. It was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking at the same time.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he spoke, his gaze lingering on your lips. Was he really about to ask you out? Right here, stuck in this elevator?

"A real date, huh?" You managed to respond, trying to keep your tone light and playful even as your insides felt like a mess of nerves.

He leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. 

"Yeah.” He murmured, his voice low and rough. "Dinner. A movie. What do you say?"

Your heart leapt into your throat at his question, your mind racing through a million different scenarios and possible responses. 

"I... um..." You stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He chuckled softly at your hesitation, his eyes never leaving your face. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart.“ He teased, his tone softening a bit. "I promise I won't bite." He took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you. "Unless, of course.” He murmured just inches from your lips. “You wanted me to."

You hummed a incoherent response as your eyes closed and his hand traveled to rest on your cheek.

His touch was soft and warm, it even send a shiver down your spine right before literal fireworks exploded inside you when his lips finally met yours in a gentle yet deep kiss. 

Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t that bad after all.

please let me know what you think 🫶🏼

reblogs are very much appreciated 😊

[ierofrnkk]

So… puppy little sad Steven alone in Valentine’s Day Jorking off while crying pathetically

I mean Steven and valentines!

Ana you sly devil, you……

of course hehehehe

Maybe Next Year

Steven Grant (~800)

Summary: Steven’s alone on Valentine’s Day again this year.

Tags: 18+! Masturbation (male), brief mention of porn, crying, Steven crying a lil while he’s jerking off, dacryphilia (?) if you squint, slight angst bc Steven is lonely

a/n: yeah yup. uh huh.

——

Valentine’s Day. The day of love, or, more accurately: the day that everyone else is in love and seemingly enjoys shoving it into every single person’s face.

Needless to say, Valentine’s Day is not Steven’s favorite holiday.

Cheap, tacky red and pink hearts were plastered all over the museum, in every shop, even on the front door of his apartment building. The day seemed to mock him, the fact that he was painfully single was not forgotten that day.

He couldn’t even manage a date, not even for the night; not after the last dating fiasco, at least.

Steven’s night was arguably the most sad in all of London; he picked up some dinner for himself—a little vegan wrap from the corner shop that he’s grown quite fond of—and spent his evening at home, alone.

He tried whatever he could to make himself feel better, but nothing really worked as well as he’d hoped it would.

He read some books, spoke to Gus for a while, even put his favorite show on the TV, but all of it made him feel that much more alone.

He even resorted to watching some porn, hopefully something in his favorite rotation of videos would help him feel a little less lonely. He clicked through a few videos, the super-secret ones, the ones with the soft voices full of praise and far-too attractive women.

The sight of everything, of course, garnered the reaction that tends to happen when you watch porn alone in your room.

He was already pretty hard, and figured there was no time like the present to take care of it—not like he had anything else planned for the evening.

The last video had begun playing by the time he slid his hand beneath the elastic of his sweatpants and boxers, though Steven wasn’t paying much attention to what was on the screen.

His eyes, for the most part, were either closed or focused up onto the ceiling as he took his aching cock into his hand, stroking himself slowly.

It was nice, obviously, but not exactly how Steven wanted to spend another Valentine’s Day.

Alone, in his room, jerking off.

He worries his lower lip between his teeth as he continues, having established a pace with his hand that he knew would get him to finish quickly.

The thought that this is what he’s doing, while everyone else he knew was on a date—at the very least, out somewhere with the potential to score a date, or even get laid.

He twists his wrist, focusing the slightest bit more attention on the sensitive, leaking head of his cock. He knows that it won’t be very long until he’s finished.

As if he didn’t feel pathetic enough, he can feel the ache in his chest, the stinging pinpricks of tears in his eyes as he continues to think about everything that’s gone wrong in his life, leading up to this point.

His eyes are wet with tears, now, rolling from the corners of his eyes down the sides of his face as he lays back with his head against the pillow.

The two sensations are warring within him—the increasing tension, the heat in the pit of his stomach as he works himself closer and closer, and that empty ache in his chest, leading him to cry because he’s feeling so terribly alone.

The last video’s finished by this point—not like he was watching it anyways—the room relatively quiet besides the sound of his breathing and the muted noise of the city through his windows.

Steven can feel himself getting closer, the coil in his stomach tightening further and further as he strokes himself, imagining what it might be like to have somebody else do this for him, for a change.

It doesn’t take much after that for him to find his climax, spilling his release all over his hand and a bit on his stomach.

The labored breaths as he comes down morph into soft, shaky inhales as the surge of emotion combined with the intense feeling prove to be too much for him to handle.

This, he feels, is the lowest point in his life.

After taking a few moments to collect himself—at least somewhat—he sits up in bed, grabbing a few tissues to clean himself up and tossing them in the bin next to his bed.

He shuts his laptop, gets dressed in his coziest clothes—a sweater that’s far too big for him, and some warm flannel pants—and settles himself onto the couch in front of the TV once again, snuggling up with the soft pillows and comfy blankets.

Maybe, he thinks. Maybe next year’ll be better.

Thank you for reading!

tags: @faretheeoscar @howellatme @winniethewife @midgardian-witch @reallyrallyauthor @my-secret-shame @silvernight-m @ominoose