#this felt like it was the night before Valentine’s Day and I haven’t finished making the cards yet

[soup-scope]

DUN DUN!

You have been bitten by the mutual virus. To cure yourself, you must provide one reason why you follow each of your mutuals before sending this to others (whether mutuals or not) while in anon.

Good luck!

This… is gonna be so long…..

@star-sheeps : absolutely fucking hilarious. i always catch myself giggling whenever i see one of ur posts!! i also loved the ‘styling the listeners’ lil series u were doing i love fashion content sm. you were also one of the first people i followed when i first joined the redacted fandom🫡🫡

@caramel-metal : you somehow find the funniest shit to ever exist. your blog is a genuine gold mine for content i would’ve have seen otherwise it’s so‼️‼️‼️‼️

@taelonsamada : i thought it was a mistake when u followed me back 😭😭 but ī absolutely ADORE your writing. i constantly find myself rereading between me you and the fence post ehehehe. i’m gonna be ordering your new book soon and i’ve been vibrating at a frequency that’s impossible to witness with the naked eye (translation: im very excited)

@davidsfanclub : ANOTHER PERSON THAT MAKES ME GIGGLE. i loved ur angel design the first time i saw them and it’s genuinely infected and rotted my brain like THATS how i see angel too now omg. a very creative mind that makes me want to nibble on it

@artbykays : another person who i thought followed me back by mistake. *THE* best listener designs omg. THE ANGEL DESIGN EVER. AAAAAAAAAAAA. i genuinely love ur redacted art sm i had heart palpitations the day u followed me back

@basiliskbrews : another one of my first moots!!! i love citrus with a burning passion. i witnessed u rebrand ur blog and i still absolutely adore all and any content you put out. your vega and warden design has me frothing and convulsing on the ground like a fish abandoned on a deck.

@mothmayhem : I MISS YOU💕💕💕 another moot that has me giggling and kicking my feet. constantly has me twirling my hair and laughing ehehehe. i still can’t get over how you CALLED the david and asher proposals like dawg. how

@beedoes-stuff : GIGGLE ALERT. aka another moot that makes me laugh my ass off. not only do u post absolute bangers you have a tendency to reblog them too and i always have to put my phone down for a few mins

@themonotonysyndrome : it took me three tries to spell ur user right. we got another castin lover in this house 🤝🤝 i want to bite you on the head and then maul you. (all said with love and extreme amounts of affection) I LOVE HOW U TALK ABOUT BRIGHT AAAAA. i want to take a gigantic chunk out of ur writing i love it sm it has me rolling around and flailing

@falkea : MISS YOU💕💕. THE ANGEL DESIGN THAT EXECUTED ME ON THE SPOT. i hit the floor when u followed me back like my mouth was AGAPE. your quinn and darlin art genuinely changed my brain chemistry i will never be the same. a very big art inspiration for me. i shake with anticipation whenever i wait for ur next posts.

@vaselinepot : sometimes all you need is a silly lil moot who says the funniest shit unprompted. sometimes i have to put my phone down and breathe. i miss u vaseline come home

@darlin-collins : ANOTHER MOOT THAT MAKES ME LAUGH. YALL ARE FUNNY AS FUCK. however whenever you talk about the imperium i have to mentally prepare myself to be mentally and physically crushed.

@jollyfang : I LOVE THE REDACTED ART SM AAAAAA. another person who’s follow sent me into cardiac arrest. THE GAVIN DESIGN THAT HAD ME SWEATING. i love how you draw portraits it has me falling in love with ur art all over again when i see that u post.

@thevqid : i think we need to sit down and have a talk. idk about what. i just know that one of us isn’t leaving that room alive. said with all the love i can possibly muster. i love u tho💕💕

@beemybella : genuinely one of the sweetest people i’ve ever interacted with. i love being on ur tag list smth whenever you post it tosses me out of artblock and FILLS me with inspiration 💕💕

@konnorhasapen : PIRATE AU PIRATE AU AAAAAAAAA. i love your writing sm i need to be beaten back with a stick. i’m going to fist fight with you in a parking lot one of these days. i’m so glad you made it back into ur account. i love u sm from afar i feel like a maiden waiting for her husband to return home from the war.

@bratty-telepath : so shape. so shape. i love how stylized your work is. make an art book. please. graphic design IS your passion like pls spare some good character designs and interesting layouts for the rest of us. another moot who id be down the fist fight. this is a fight that i know id get my ass kicked during tho. like my body bent at angles no one is capable of. said with love ofc

@lovesstateofmatter : i always forget we’re moots until you interact with my shit and i bounce around for 5 minutes straight. YOUR BLAKE AND ELLIOT ART. I STILL THINK ABOUT IT. that’s fr how i imagine them now 😭😭

@friendly-waffles : TANKTANKTANKTANKTANK I LOBE UR TANK DESIGJ SM AAAAAAA. AND ANGEL AAAAA. i want to bite your art and SHAKE like a rabid animal. i think about ur sam and darlin art daily. i hit the floor when we became moots

@peraltuki : THE WWDITS X REDACTED VIDS 😭😭 we joined the redacted tumblr at like the same time so i feel a bonded connection to u. ily. you have the best fucking posts they have me sobbing on the floor (cause i giggle too hard)

@doodleanddie : your redacted doodles killed me, sent me to heaven, then dragged me back down to hell and then reincarnated me as a fly. i love ur art and all ur doodles have so much character it’s WILD. (i miss u💕)

@epsi-l0n - your thoughts are so incredibly big brained i want to pick apart ur brain and take a few bites while i’m at it. i think if we fought it’d be the battle of the ages. simply because i think we both *CANT* fight so it’d just be entertaining to every witness

@dollvre : VINCENT STAN HIIIIII. finding another vincent lover and taylor swift enjoyer in this fandom had my brain exploding. tell me what zsakuva videos i should watch. i’m too indecisive to choose what series i want to get into. i think we need to hold hands and exchange rings 👍

@mrsmiagreer : Niyah i would genuinely kill for you. tell me a name. or names. plural. i would quite literally do anything for you. say the word. BUT I LOVE UR WRITING SM PLS MAKE A TAGLIST PLS

@oceanicwhitetipshark : whenever i feel myself drifting from redacted. i get a notif that you’ve posted and i’m immediately pulled back in by all ur writings and your thoughts. ur genuinely so talented and so incredibly sweet di i’m very glad we’re moots

@kelseadelle : i’ve never loved women more in my entire life. the way u draw has me wanting to sacrifice myself to the nearest woman for no reason other than that they’re a woman. your evie and ranger art. id give anything to be a werewolf.

@romeo-the-homeo : there can only be one trans jackass in the redacted fandom there isn’t enough room for the both of us. we should totally combine our physical forms and ascend to a higher form of being. and then get a wendy’s frosty or smth.

@plutobutartsy : stella. LIGHT OF MY LIFE💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 I LOVE UR DESIGNS SM YOUR ART IS SO BEAUTIFUL I LOVE HOW YOU SEE THE LISTENERS AAAAA. YOUR FAITHFUL DESIGN HAS SHOT ME THROUGH THE HEART ILY AAAAAAA

@clover-46 : whenever smth messy happens i always appear in ur dms 😭😭 i love obsessing over hush with you and giggling in our dms💕💕. YOUR DESIGNS SLAP SO HARD. i hope you know that i think of your milo design on the daily. he’s my little girlfriend and i’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life

@celestecreateschaos : trying to type out ur user gave me an aneurysm. I ALSO MISS GEORDI SM WHERE IS HE. you’re genuinely so funny you constantly have me giggling. i wanna tape an x-ray of ur brain to my wall.

@venuslove-28-replies : HIIIIOIOIIIIOOOOEDIIWIWISIDOW. one of these days i’m going to shake you so hard you come apart like a mr potato head. your art has me wanting to bite you and not let go. all your designs have me AAAAKAOSAIKALA

@peacefullibrarian : i will never get over that one piece of writing u did about lasko and his listener. the “like the fan” has me slamming myself into the ground imagining them interacting. make a tag list. make a tagLIST RN AND ADD ME

@morgansplace : hi king i’m going to evict you from this plane of existence. (translation: i love you and i love how incredibly creative you are. i want to eat ur nails. i think we could solve all the worlds problems if we held hands and spun in a circle until we fell over from dizziness. i think it’d be nice)

@heshheshfish : omw to send u a cease a desist. your walls are very comfortable. i have officially devoured all tress-passers who have crossed my unwelcome path. i only accept offerings in the form of whole blocks of cheddar cheese. (translation: hi hehe)

@teaseat : i don’t think i can genuinely put into words how much i love u tea. you have me CACKLING. and other days you have me needing to put down my phone to take a minute. anyways. IN SO GLAD IM IN UR TAGLIST HEHEHE I LOVE UR WRITING SM AAAAAAA

@deviantaj : you make me want to listen to marina and the diamonds and then kill someone. aj ily. you make me giggle. i think if we were ever put into the same room we’d probably cause a cataclysmic event that no one could ever recover from.

@swanconcerto : HOLLYYYYYYYYYYUEJFJE. ily holly my favorite person to ever exist you have me twirling my hair and giggling i’d give anything to exist in ur presence. holly i am in ur basement.

@messenger-of-stupidity : i love your writing so much it has completely rewired my brain i think we should tussle outside and then hold pinky’s or smth. THE VEGA LOVE>>>>> i wait with baited breath for your vega fic

@shawslut : i love ur blog layout sm how do you do it. we both go by ray/rae so i think maybe we should do a lil dance to decide which ones superior. your geordi fic had me wanting to test the sharpness of my new kitchen knives. i will eat you one of these days.

@4letteraroace : i want to bite your hands so bad bro. i still think about ur darlin dance fic. now i know nothing about dance but i could fucking picture what was going on and it HURT. i think your keyboard deserves to be taken away. it should also be taken away because of how u interact with lemon on a daily basis 😭😭

@milosirlgf : hi jaydyn i think one of these days you’ll genuinely rule the world so pls remember that i am nothing but ur undying servant hi. i’m going to empty my life savings in ur name.

@terrazaurio : YOUR DAVID AND ANGEL DESIGN AAAAAAAAA RAHHHHHHHH. i want to bite someone’s head off. i get horrific cute aggression whenever i see your work. i think if we ever existed in the same section of the universe the space time continuum would collapse

@goodboyaudios : i think we should fist fight.

@tunasfishbowl : i think we should paint each others nails and then watch horror movies. tuna ur designs have me gasping for air on a daily basis i lost my mind when we became moots.

@yoteako : THE LASKO DESIGN EVER. INCREDIBLE WOLF BOY DESIGNS. i lobe how u draw them as grown men. idk if that makes any sense but it does to me. also enlightened me to the idea that is vega and brachium omg the most brain idea ever. when we became moots i breakdanced on the hardwood floor

@echovale052 : HI ECHOOO i’m taking a few chomps out of all of ur works like your art style is so pleasant i wanna EAT IT. i think that if we fought we’d probably end up destroying a few small towns.

@kittyshaw : HI REIIIIIII 💕💕💕💕 genuinely one of my fav people. you have the best takes and omg i love ur headcanons sm. i am going to eat ur brain one of these days. any second you aren’t moving i’m only getting closer

@lovelylonerliterature : i’ve read your cutie/geordi fix it fic an ungodly amount of times. (also a shadows appeal……) i love ur writing and interpretations of the redacted characters so much. your ability to capture angst has me wanting to throw myself into the abyss.

@elisacaleisa : another user i struggled to spell 💔💔. THE BEST MORGAN DESIYJ IVE EVER SEEN THATS MY MAN THATS MY WIFE I LOST MY SHIT M.LWFIIWKSJWIWO. i’m going to bite and shake your gavin design. i think our brains should combine at some point for fun

@sweetlemongrove : Lemon u are the light of my life. please make a taglist and add me to it. i love you. THE LOMLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL. also ur blog layout is so pretty what.

I LOVE YOU ALL MOOTS‼️‼️‼️

(Ok but in all seriousness. This is my first time ever really fully interacting with a fandom and not just lurk. To be able to interact with an incredibly creative and kind fandom has been a pleasure :)))) thank you all for all the work you do!!!!)

[bradshawsbaby]

Forever Valentine

Pairing: Rooster x Fiancée!Reader

Author’s Note: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything for the Bradshaws, huh? I had a weird anxiety about writing this one, which I think was due in part to the fact that I haven’t written for them since Christmas. But I’m happy with how this little story came out! It was written for @roosterforme​’s #love is in the air tgm challenge! The song that inspired it is Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Pre-wedding stress, a smidge of angst, and a whole lot of fluff.

You felt like you were going to cry.

You couldn’t remember ever feeling so stressed out about anything in your life, and that included the time you registered for that anthropology class in the spring semester of your senior year thinking it would be an easy three credits, only for it to end up being more work than all four years of college combined. At least your stress had made sense then—bioarchaeology wasn’t necessarily the most chipper of topics. But now? This was supposed to be the most exciting time of your life, and you felt like you were ruining all the joy by letting yourself get so worked up.

In a little over a week, you would be walking down the aisle to join your life forevermore to the man you loved more than anything in the world.

And yet, you were frantic.

Despite the fact that you and Bradley had been engaged for over a year, and that you’d been planning your wedding for nearly as long, it still felt like there wasn’t enough time to get everything done. The past month alone had felt like a whirlwind, an endless marathon where you kept running and pushing, and yet somehow never made it past the finish line.

Bradley had been amazing, as he always was. While he couldn’t really care less about wedding details—he would have been just as happy getting married in bathing suits at The Hard Deck as he was to get married in his dress whites at the church you’d booked last year—he never failed to offer his unending support and encouragement. He went with you on every venue tour, tasted every flavor of cake imaginable, let you drive him to the brink of insanity comparing floral arrangements, sat up with you all night making seating charts, left you encouraging notes when you went dress shopping, and held you tightly whenever the stress of it all became too much and you just needed to bawl your eyes out.

If you had ever doubted that Bradley Bradshaw was the man for you—which you hadn’t—his devotion and patience during the wedding planning process would have sealed the deal for you. You still weren’t sure how you had ever gotten so blessed, but at least now you’d have the rest of your life to thank your lucky stars for it.

At the moment, however, you weren’t exactly feeling blessed. Stressed was probably the more appropriate term.

In just a week and a day, you and Bradley would finally be saying ���I do,” but it felt like there were a million things that needed to be done before that time. Penny and Phoenix had been an amazing help, and your mom would be here in a few days to help tie up some of the last minute details, but you’d always had a hard time delegating and ended up putting too much pressure on your own shoulders. Bradley affectionately scolded you about it all the time.

“Honey, why don’t you let Penny help you with this?” he’d asked one night, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he watched you fuss over the menu options for the reception. “You know she’d be happy to.”

“I know,” you’d nodded in response, brow furrowed in concentration. “But I don’t want to bother her.”

“Can I do anything?” he asked on other occasions, always looking a bit terrified by all the checklists and folders you had scattered around you at any given time.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you always rushed to reassure him. “I’ve got it.”

Still, he always stayed with you and made sure, in the midst of everything, that you were eating enough and drinking plenty of water. And that mattered so much more than anything else he could have done.

Your heart was pierced with guilt now as you sat in the living room of your apartment, making final confirmations with vendors and going over your checklists for the one hundred millionth time. Your fiancé was such a good man—the best man you had ever known. And he had been your rock through all of this. Not only were you concerned about the wedding and your honeymoon plans, but you and Bradley had also recently closed on the apartment where you were going to begin your lives together as husband and wife, and planning for that move was taking up a good chunk of space in your brain. Still, he had never once complained about how scatter-brained you’d been recently. On the contrary, he’d spent the past several weeks trying everything in his power to lift some of your self-imposed pressure off your shoulders. Bradley had done nothing but show his love for you at every turn.

And how did you repay all that love and kindness? You’d forgotten that today was Valentine’s Day.

Bradley had stayed over at your place the night before, as he often did, but you had been up so late, talking on the phone with your mom for hours, that you’d slept through both of his alarms this morning. Evidently he hadn’t wanted to disturb you, because you had no memory at all of him climbing out of bed and getting ready for work. When you did wake up a few hours later, however, you walked into the kitchen to find a yellow rose—your favorite—sitting beside the coffee pot, along with a little handwritten Post-it note stuck to the machine.

Happy Valentine’s Day, honey! I love you so much and I can’t wait to be your husband. Just 8 more days!

You felt like you’d been hit by a freight train. Despite all your careful planning and compulsive checklists, you’d somehow completely overlooked the fact that today was February 14th. You felt like the world’s worst fiancée.

In all fairness, you and Bradley had already talked about how you weren’t going to do anything big for Valentine’s Day this year.

“I know it’ll be a week before the wedding, and you’ve got so much going on, so we can keep it simple this year,” Bradley had murmured as the two of you had been lying in bed together. “We’ll just get to celebrate double next year,” he added with a grin, kissing your forehead.

“Sounds like a plan,” you had laughed in response, snuggling against his chest.

But this went beyond keeping it simple. You hadn’t even remembered. Bradley had been sweet enough to still find a way to make you feel special, and you hadn’t even woken up to give him a kiss goodbye this morning.

Hurrying back to your bedroom, you snatched up your phone and immediately opened your messages with Bradley.

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby! I love you! ♥️

A few minutes later, you heard your phone buzz and glanced down to see your fiancé’s response.

See you tonight, honey 😘

Bradley didn’t even necessarily know you had forgotten, but you still felt horribly guilty all the same. That afternoon, in between making phone calls, you raced out to the store and picked up some of his favorites candies and treats. You also placed a take-out order for dinner from his favorite restaurant, knowing you wouldn’t have time to cook for him this year.

You loved him more than anything, and you wanted him to know that. As special as he always made you feel, you wanted him to be confident in the knowledge that he was just as special and precious to you.

Thankfully, you managed to arrive back to your apartment with dinner before Bradley returned from work. Having already set out the candy you’d bought for him on the kitchen table, you popped the food into the oven to keep it warm for when he was ready to eat.

Plopping back down on the couch, you only had a few minutes to review your venue contract before you heard the front door to your apartment opening, Bradley using the key you’d given him before the two of you had even gotten engaged.

“Honey?” he called out, his deep voice causing goosebumps to rise on your arms immediately. You could definitely get used to hearing that greeting every night for the rest of your life.

Dropping the contract and jumping up off the couch, you hurried to the entryway to greet him, flinging your arms around him and kissing him deeply. You could feel his mustache tickling your upper lip, which made you giggle against his mouth.

“Well hello,” Bradley grinned when you finally pulled back, his arms settling snugly around your waist. “That was quite a greeting after a long day of flight maneuvers,” he chuckled, nuzzling his nose against yours as he leaned in closer.

“I missed you,” you told him, cupping his face in your hands and brushing another kiss, softer this time, against his lips.

Bradley smiled into the kiss, squeezing your hip affectionately. “Mmm, I missed you, too. You looked so tired that I didn’t want to disturb you this morning, but I missed getting to give you a proper goodbye before I left,” he admitted, peppering your jawline with gentle pecks.

His words were full of tenderness, but you felt a stab of guilt once more. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, burying your face in his neck as you wrapped your arms around him more tightly and hugged him close.

Surprised, Bradley chuckled lightly and dropped a kiss on the top of your head. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. I know you were up late.” His large fingers brushed up and down your spine comfortingly. “Hope you treated yourself to a nice, big cup of coffee this morning.”

You nodded, your face still pressed in the crook between his neck and his shoulder. “I did. Thank you for the rose and the note. It made my day,” you said softly, your lips ghosting across his shoulder.

“Of course,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. “I know we said we weren’t going to do anything too big, but I still wanted to do something for you for Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry it wasn’t much,” he apologized.

“Don’t say sorry,” you insisted, pulling back and looking up into his dark brown eyes. “It was perfect.”

“So are you,” Bradley grinned, kissing you gently.

Trying to push away the minor guilt that was still gnawing uncomfortably at you, you took his hand and led him into the kitchen. “I picked up dinner for you, if you’re hungry now,” you told him, thinking of the chicken pot pie that was resting in the oven. Bradley always said that it was the only pot pie he’d ever tasted at a restaurant that reminded him of his mom’s. “Chicken pot pie from Duncan’s.”

“Oh, wow, really? Thank you, honey!” he said excitedly, squeezing your hand as he stepped into the kitchen with you. “Damn, and all this, too?” he added, his eyes widening as they took in all the candy and snacks you’d laid out on the table. “You’re spoiling me tonight, baby. You definitely beat me at the Valentine’s Day game this year.”

You weren’t expecting it, but Bradley’s words suddenly had you bursting into tears, covering your face with your hands as you stood over by the oven.

Dropping the pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that he’d been holding, Bradley was by your side in an instant, wrapping you up in his arms and tucking your head underneath his chin. “Hey, hey, shh,” he murmured soothingly, rocking back and forth lightly. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s wrong?”

“I’m the worst fiancée ever!” you sobbed, hiccupping into his chest. “I don’t want you to think I’m so good! I totally forgot it was Valentine’s Day,” you confessed, sniffling loudly. “I only remembered when I saw your note this morning. So trust me, I most definitely did not beat you at the Valentine’s Day game.”

Bradley’s eyes widened as he listened to you ramble, one large hand moving up and down your back with firm strokes. Then, without warning, he started to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” you exclaimed, your face mottled with tears as you pulled back to glare up at him. “You do everything for me, and you’ve been so amazing, especially with all my wedding craziness, and I can’t even remember to buy you a piece of candy on Valentine’s Day? Some wife I’m going to make!” you cried irrationally.

Bradley sobered immediately at your outburst, holding your face in his hands and forcing you to look up at him. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, waiting until you made direct eye contact with him. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have laughed. I know you’ve been under so much pressure lately,” he went on, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Between the wedding and the new apartment and everything else that you have going on, who cares that you forgot Valentine’s Day? I certainly don’t!”

“But I do,” you sniffled, reaching up to wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “I love you. I love you so much. And I want you to know that,” you explained, your voice trembling with further unshed tears.

“I do know that,” Bradley replied gently, caressing your cheek with a gentle hand. “It would be kind of crazy of me to doubt it considering we’re getting married next week,” he added with a soft chuckle. “Baby, you forgot one Valentine’s Day. Considering everything else you’ve been juggling—and juggling perfectly, I might add—it’s pretty amazing what you’re able to do on a daily basis. It doesn’t bother me at all that this slipped your mind.”

Crumpling, you buried your face in his chest and started to cry all over again.

“I think I know what this is really about,” Bradley murmured, resting his cheek against the top of your head and holding you close. “You’ve been way too stressed out about the wedding lately. And that’s my fault. I’ve been too preoccupied with work, and letting you deal with too much on your own.”

“No, that’s not true. You’ve been—”

Bradley silenced your interruption with a kiss, stroking your hair tenderly. “Our wedding is supposed to be a happy day, baby. The happiest day of our lives. I know it’s going to be for me because it’s the day I get to call you mine forever. And I want it to be for you, too. I want you to get to enjoy all the hard work you’ve been putting into making this such a special day for everyone. It should be a special day for you above everyone else.”

“It will be,” you promised, offering him a watery smile. “Because I can’t wait to marry you.”

He smiled, dropping another soft kiss on your lips. “No more stress, honey. No more worrying. No more planning. No more checklists. No more trying to do everything by yourself. I’m here for you. And I want to help you. It is our wedding, after all,” he told you with a teasing grin.

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding your head slowly. “You’re right,” you agreed softly.

“And no more beating yourself up about forgetting Valentine’s Day either,” Bradley insisted, resting his hands on your shoulders and shooting you a pointed look. “We’re going to have so many Valentine’s Days together, baby. If we remembered every single one, we’d run out of things to do. Trust me, I’m more than satisfied knowing that you’re my forever Valentine,” he smiled, curling his finger under your chin and lifting your face so that your eyes met.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” you pouted playfully, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Bradley threw back his head and laughed at that, beaming. “You know, my mom used to say that she would ask my dad that same exact question. Usually, it was when he was managing to get out of trouble. Guess it’s just a Bradshaw quality.”

“Oh, well, thank goodness I’m marrying into such a good family then,” you giggled, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

“You’re going to be the perfect addition to the Bradshaw clan,” Bradley smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You sighed softly, contentedly, as you snuggled up against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. “I love you so much,” you whispered.

“I love you right back. More than words could ever say,” Bradley responded, turning his head so that his lips could brush against your forehead.

The two of you stood like that for a while, perfectly content to remain wrapped in each other’s arms as the tension of a long day seeped out of your bones. There was no place that felt safer than one another’s embrace.

You finally pulled back, giggling, when you heard Bradley’s stomach rumble.

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Guess I’m hungrier than I realized.”

“Let me get dinner on the table for you,” you told him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you go freshen up?”

He nodded, dropping a quick succession of kisses on your mouth before stepping out of the kitchen.

Smiling, you cleared the kitchen table of all the candy you’d purchased, setting out plates and utensils before moving over to the oven to take out the food you’d ordered. Before you could place the food on the table, however, you suddenly heard music begin blaring from the speakers in the living room. You recognized those familiar strains.

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

You'd be like Heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

At that moment, Bradley reappeared in the entryway to the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s this? A little mood music for dinner?” you laughed, resting a hand on your hip.

Stepping towards you, Bradley held out his hand with an infectious smile. “Dance with me,” he said, waiting patiently.

You didn’t hesitate as you slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you close to his chest as he spun you around the kitchen to the musical stylings of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.

“I love you, baby,” he sang against your ear, his voice melding with the music so perfectly that you were tempted to tease him about becoming the Fifth Season. But instead, you closed your eyes and let his soothing voice drift over you, washing away all the stress and anxiety that had been building up inside you these past few weeks.

You couldn’t wait to marry this man, this man who danced with you in the kitchen even when you had forgotten Valentine’s Day, and who spent every moment of every day reminding you how loved and cherished you were.

The day you became Mrs. Bradshaw would be the happiest day of your life. And it would have nothing to do with the floral arrangements or the wedding venue or the flavor of the cake. Instead, it would have everything to do with the man who was waiting for you at the end of the aisle. The man who wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you, the same way you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off him.

“I love you, Bradley Bradshaw,” you told him, beaming up at him as the song slowly started to come to an end.

“I love you, too, honey,” he smiled, kissing you deeply. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

a/n: based off of this piece I wrote literally like not even an hour ago I’m obsessed with these two. happy early Valentine’s Day to all 🤍

tags: gojo x f!reader, slowburn, reader is an older sister raising her brother and Satoru comes in, sort of like found family au, mentions of readers brother having an infection/going to the er and Satoru comforts reader, slight angst there but fluff at the end (inspired by this)

Satoru doesn’t know when it was he loved you.

He thinks maybe it was the time you answered one of his lonely late night calls. When the moon is faint and the silence too loud for his liking. the floor is too cold and he thinks he’s nothing but a man, with blankets that can’t give him the warmth he seeks. Only those but your words can warm a home, and when he finishes talking to you that night, he feels like maybe there is something to look forward to.

But that was before he met you, the real you in flesh and bone. He wasn’t blessed hearing the sound of your laugh inside the same room, only through landline, and he wasn’t blessed with seeing you blush. He didn’t know how holy it would be be to hold your hand, or how fulfilled he felt when he drove you home after a night full of laughter. No, it wasn’t then.

It could have started when he saw how troubled you were after your sprained ankle that he sent an order of your favorite food to you and your brothers door. He also sent a pack of ice wraps that could help your ankle according to ichiji who always had foot problems and was an expert himself. but that wasn’t it.

Or maybe it was when he heard your distraught call, your brother’s fever had not decreased after 3 days and he had spent most of his days sleeping. He thinks it was then when he loved you, when he helped carry your 10 year old brother into the ER waiting for the doctors to give you reports. He had consoled you that night, your hair was messy and your shirt two days old as you cried into his chest. “I’m such a failure,” you cried into him, “mom... if only mom-”

“You’re doing such a great job, sweetheart.” He tells you, rubbing your back, holding you tight. “I can see it and your mom can too. You love him, and you’ve been doing everything you could, no one can deny it.” He tells you.

“I’ve never met anyone who actively measures every cup or hour, you haven’t slept for days, angel. We’re okay, we’re at the doctor’s. He’s in good hands, okay? I’m here.”

He remembered how you nodded against him and how it broke his heart seeing your tear stained face. It turned out your brother had a minor infection that medication given to him that night lowered all of his fever overnight. He stayed with you that night.

But it wasn’t then.

He found a new sense of love for you after he offered to fix your door. It was late winter, cold air would enter your loose door, and he offered to close a gap within the door that a few screws could fix. Of course, why not change your lock into something safer while he was at it? And if your brother was here too, why not show him too? Serves as a learning experience, and he liked the kid.

When he finished fixing your door, your smile made him feel proud, almost nudging at him to look for something else in your apartment that was broken that he could fix, but before he could do anything else, you spoke. “I thought about making you something. You know, to thank you for fixing my door.” That day, he learned to love your cooking, no matter how small or elaborate. If it was made by you, he would love it.

It finally struck him that he loved you when you were in the comfort of your own home. Your brother long asleep in his room as satoru watched you cook some late night dinner. The two of you had gone out eating, but were both half heartedly dissatisfied with the portions. Still hungry, you suggested making something in your home.

“I told you I could help you,” he gently nudges then pouts at your soft laugh as you stand before the stove.

“I know, but what’s the fun of it since I can’t spoil you, hm?” You smile.

“You should be angry at me, I picked a terrible restaurant.”

“Maybe I should,” you muse, “but I’m not. Maybe I’ll give you the burnt piece, how does that sound?”

“You should be crueler,” he sighs dramatically, “make me do the dishes or something.”

“Maybe. Or how about I don’t kiss you for the night instead?” he gasps dramatically.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could...”

“That’s too mean.”

“You think?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, setting his chin on your shoulder as he watches you cook. His arms nicely wrap around your waist. “You’re too pretty.”

“And you’re too...” you huff, melting into his embrace, “sweet.”

“Yeah?” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

“Yeah.” You breathe, closing your eyes as your bloodstream fills with euphoria as does his. Satoru buries his face against the part where your shoulder and neck meet before pressing a kiss there.

“I love you.”

[heytherejulia]

Happy birthday my love ~ H.H.

pairing: harry holland x reader

summary: it's your boyfriend's birthday

warnings: pregnancy, swearing

word count: 1,4k+

Happy birthday Harry and Sam!

It wasn’t another normal Tuesday, although it kind of felt like it. However it was not only valentine’s day but also your boyfriend Harry and his twin Sam’s 24th birthday. Harry was out of town as usual working with Tom so there wasn’t that much partying and celebrating besides facetime dinner with all of the Hollands, best friends and partners and maybe a facetime date with Harry later that night if you’ll be lucky. 

You wanted to visit him but your shitty boss didn’t give you your well deserved week off so the best you could do was a video call and forcing Tom into giving Harry the gift you bought for him months before. 

It really bugged you that you couldn’t be with Harry on such a special day but it was beyond your powers, so you decided to do anything you could to make his day at least enjoyable. 

You called him first thing in the morning with wishes and spent around two hours just talking and catching up on the last few days when you weren’t exactly able to talk that much because of Harry’s busy schedule. 

‘I really wish I could be there with you, I’m sorry I didn’t make it babe.’

‘It’s not your fault love, we’re gonna make it up when I'm back.’ 

His smile wasn’t the brightest but you still could see the sparkles in his eyes. It made you both happy and sad, you really missed your baby.

‘I really hope you’re gonna have fun with Tom today, and don’t forget about the facetime dinner with all of us, your mum and dad really look forward to it.’ 

‘Yeah, I remember, look I gotta go now, we’re gonna talk later right?’ 

‘Of course, have fun tonight. I love you.’ 

‘I know, I love you too. See you at dinner’

Before you could say anything the line went silent. Harry’s voice stayed with you for the whole day. Why did he say ‘see you at dinner’? Did he mean over the phone or was it just a misspoke? Either way you spent your day helping Nikki with the dinner and getting ready. Harry wasn’t going to be there but you still wanted to be dressed nicely for the occasion. 

Right before the dinner you heard a doorbell. Everyone stopped in their tracks because you haven’t expected anyone else besides Harrison and Grace and Sam’s girlfriend, Clark who were already at your place. 

You went to the door with the feeling it’s just your neighbor who needed to borrow some sugar. You opened the door and indeed saw your neighbor Milly. 

‘You need to borrow some more sugar?’ 

She looked embarrassed. The thing about her was that she baked when her anxiety was kicking in and always forgot to buy extra pack of sugar or any other sweetener. 

‘If you don’t mind’ 

‘No, of course not, let me just grab it real quick.’

You came to the kitchen and saw the hope in everyone’s eyes. You felt terrible to crush it. 

‘My neighbor needs some sugar.’ 

You saw the sadness filling the room. 

‘Hey, maybe try to call them already, I’ll be back in a minute.’

Sam took his phone out and you went towards the door. 

‘Here’s the su-’

‘Hi darling.’

And here outside of your door stood not only Milly but also Tom and your beloved boyfriend. 

‘OH MY GOD’

You flung towards him and hugged him tightly. 

‘You’re here, your family is going to be so happy. C’mon guys.’ 

You greeted Tom and rushed them into the living room. You heard happy screams and your heart swelled. He was home for his birthday with his family, it was all you wanted since the beginning. Your eyes filled with happy tears. 

You handed Milly the pack. 

‘Let me know if the cake turns out good.’

‘You got it. And have fun!’ 

When you entered the kitchen to finish cooking you sighed deeply. For some reason your mind went into panic mode. Your second present for Harry was still in your bottom drawer waiting for the right time but now the closer it got, the more nervous you were.

You heard footsteps and felt someone’s presence behind you. You turned around just to peek at whoever came in. 

‘Tom. Why aren’t you with your fam?’

‘Wanted to talk to you.’

‘Oh.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, everything’s fine, I’m just slightly nervous about the dinner.’

‘I’m not talking about this. You know what I mean. When do you want to tell him? When it’s out there?’ 

‘Cut it, Holland. It’s none of your business.’ 

‘Of course it is. It’s my brother and you’re like a sister to me. I’m just looking after you all’

‘I’m not ready, okay? It's a big thing, I don’t want to throw it on him on his birthday especially now that he’s so stressed with work.’

‘Do you really think that you will find a better time? There’s not gonna be the perfect one. Just think about it.’

He squeezed your shoulder and came back to the living room. You finished at the kitchen and brought all of the food to the table. 

‘Come on, let’s eat.’ 

The dinner was really nice, talking, joking, telling stories about the twins when they were kids, catching up. You remained quiet most of the time enjoying the happiness of your loved ones. Yet the closer it’s been getting to the moment you stay alone with Harry, the more stressed you’ve become. 

Around midnight all of your guests started to head out. You bid your farewell and went back inside to clean up a mess after the dinner. After a few minutes you heard Harry entering the kitchen. You were doing the dishes when he came behind you and wrapped his hands around your tummy. 

‘Hi darling.’ 

‘Hi.’

‘C’mon. Let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day for both of us.’

‘I can’t, I need to clean this up.’ 

‘No no no no. WE can’t clean this up tomorrow after we spend our well deserved time together.’ 

‘Technically it’s already tomorrow, baby.’

‘Imma force you to come with me if you won’t do that voluntarily.’ 

He squeezed you harder and tried to lift you but you stopped him. 

‘Don’t do that.’ 

‘Why? What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, just please don’t.’ 

‘Okay, love. Can we go to bed now?’ 

You nodded and followed him into your room. You both got ready to bed and got under the duvet. You were lying on your back and Harry was on his side playing with your hair. There were a few minutes of silence between you two when he spoke up. 

‘Is everything alright love? You’ve been quite distant today. Are you sure you’re okay?’ 

‘Yeah I just… I’ve got you a present.’ 

He smiled adorably at you. 

‘You know you didn’t have to, right?’ 

‘I do but you mean so much to me and deserve a world. Happy birthday and I love you.’ 

‘I love you too. C'mere.’ 

He sat you on his lap while opening the box. It was just a camera equipment you knew he wanted and you saw the pure adoration of his eyes when he looked up at you. 

‘Thank you, my love.’ 

He leaned in and kissed you gently but soon the kiss started to be way more passionate. His hands roamed around your body settling them on your waist under your (his) shirt. You pushed his lips out of your neck. He looked at you with concern. 

‘I’ve got something else for you.’ 

You reached for a small box in your drawer and handed it to him. 

‘What’s that?’ 

‘Just open it.’ 

He did as you told and opened the box. Inside was a positive pregnancy test. Your positive pregnancy test. His face was blank and you couldn’t read any emotions which made you even more nervous. 

‘Is this real or is this just a prank?’ 

‘It’s real.’ 

Silence. 

‘Look if you don’t want this you don’t have to stick around, I know it’s shitty timing but I figured you at least deserve to know.’ 

Silence. 

You were terrified. You’d rather prefer him to get mad and yell at you than the silence and uncertainty what next. 

‘Y/N’ 

You looked at him. 

‘I want this. With you. I love you and I’m not giving up on neither of you.’ 

Your eyes filled with tears. 

‘Hey, don’t cry, baby. It’s okay, come here.’ 

He held you close while you silently talked about your pregnancy. Some time after you both lied down. Harry spooned you and kept his hand on your still flat stomach. 

‘I’m scared Harry.’ 

‘I know. I’m scared too. But it’s okay, we’ll figure it out. Seriously, we’ll be fine. Get some sleep, sweetheart, it’s been one hell of a day huh?’

‘Yeah. Good night, baby.’ 

He kissed the back of your head. 

‘Night, love’ 

[sysba]

cal x edith - first kiss

[cal belongs to @night-triumphantt ] wc: 1.2k a/n: this week had valentine's day and ockissweek and well, i'm equally bad at both but i drabbled caledith first kiss for my and judie's eyes lol there's 2 parts before this because they literally take like a year just to confess i hate them sm anyway enjoy void i'm not gonna proof read shit

“Christ, I’m beat.”

Edith winces when her back hits the counter. The shop looks nothing better than it did a few hours ago; knocked-over boxes of music records everywhere, papers and books all over the floor, and the clock marking 11PM as she sighs.

From his less-than-comfortable seat on that same floor, close as he can be without letting his knee touch hers, Cal smiles at her. 

“I can finish this up. Maybe you can get some sleep upstairs?” 

‘Should’, ‘could’, ‘maybe’... Cal somehow mastered the art of caring for Edith without ever telling her what to do. It works, most of the time. 

But this time he’s not even done talking and she’s already objecting, so he rushes to add, “I don’t mind! Really. It’s been a busy day, and you haven’t stopped for a moment.”

Neither has he, but it doesn’t seem to matter much. Edith shakes her head almost too fondly, a little scoff of amusement leaving her lips before she takes a swig of her drink (an abominable mix of tequila and Kahlúa with far too much of the latter to be called appealing).

She seems to consider something for a moment, eyes narrowing just barely as she nibbles on the inside of her cheek. 

“Maybe we should just leave it. Close the shop for a day or something.” She says it nonchalantly but frowns once she notices the odd look on Cal’s face, who’s staring at her with a mix of concern and confusion and a secret third thing. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replies a bit too quickly, a deer in the headlights stumbling on his words, “I, uh… You never take a day off, it took me off guard.”

He’s mumbling, but his low voice reaches her anyways because she clicks her tongue at him in mock offence– Cal doesn’t even notice, too distracted by the playful smile that follows.

“Yeah, well,” Edith nods towards the mess surrounding them with something like resignation. “All things considered, we might deserve a break.”

Cal huffs a small laugh at that, but neither of them shows any sign of wanting to get up. It takes him a moment before he goes back to his task, patiently sorting through a bunch of vinyl. 

Edith makes no move to stop him, apparently too engrossed in her drink. He thinks her cheeks are a bit darker, but whether it’s the alcohol or a trick of the dim lights he’s not quite sure.

There’s a comfortable silence lulling them, the first they’ve had in a while; they haven’t really been able to share a space like this lately, not without a pervading sense of awkwardness making either of them run away at the first occasion.

In fact, they’ve barely ever been alone for more than a couple minutes for the past few months. Not ever since–

Hoping Edith won’t notice, Cal subtly shakes his head to try and banish the memory of their last real conversation. It doesn’t work, it never has. 

‘You love me.’ Her accusation rings loud in his mind even months later, still vicious, still true. 

He can still taste that same bitter desperation he felt as she walked away that time. The metallic taste of it sits on his tongue, and he can’t seem to swallow it down, so much so that he almost begs her to stay once again.

He looks at Edith once more. Her eyes are closed now, head tilted back to rest against the counter, offering the full sharp curve of her neck to him; it’s odd, seeing her so vulnerable. Like a nerve exposed, a jugular eagerly pressed to a blade. There’s something almost sacrificial about it, and it’s gratifying.  

Cal can see every detail of her even in this dimness, from the waves of her hair meeting her broad shoulders to the long shadows of her lashes on her cheeks (and what he can’t see he can make from memory, like the faint freckles on the tip of her nose and the ever-present cracks on her lips).

Her chest rises and falls quietly, rhythmically. The sight is so peaceful that when she speaks it takes him a moment to register she’s awake. 

“Edith?”

The corners of her lips curl a bit.

“I wanted to say it back,” she mutters again, and this time he catches it. Her eyes are open now, but she doesn’t look at him. Not yet. 

“That day, after you…” she lets the sentence hang in the air, gesturing vaguely. 

After he almost said it. Not that she needs to explain that, of course. It’s wonderfully, cruelly poetic how she brings it up now, in the very same room.

“I thought about saying it, but then I got– scared, I guess.” 

She grimaces as she says it, teeth clenching around the ‘scared’ as if admitting it is physically painful. Cal swallows hard.

“Scared of what?” He whispers because somehow, somehow he knows anything louder would be a mistake.

“You.” 

The single word is a knife to his lungs, it knocks the air out of him and has him bleed the unspoken. She smiles again, sickeningly sweet, all glossy eyes and heated cheeks. 

“You scare me the most, y’know.”

He’s sorry. It hurts.

“I’m sorry, I–”

“I’m scared whenever I see you. ‘Cause I look at you and I’m just, ‘Shit, I’d do anything for you!’ And I’m pretty fucking sure I actually would, which is… Terrifying.” Her words come out in an almost sleepy chuckle, slurred and rushed and self-loathing. “Scares me whenever you leave, too, because then I’m always waiting for you to come back. ‘S a bit pathetic, really.” 

She’s finally looking at him. Was her gaze always this warm?

“I know what it means, now. You looking at me like that.”

I’ve been looking at you like this the whole time.

Even when she didn’t look back.

Cal’s heartbeat is so loud he can barely think, barely breathe. But he asks anyway. 

“What?”

He doesn’t understand what’s happening until her lips are ghosting over his (when did she lean in?) and he thinks he’s stopped breathing altogether. She tastes like sugar and coffee and a little bit like blood, and she kisses him as if she’s done so hundreds of times before.

Practised, familiar, with her thumb stroking his cheek and his hand clinging to her t-shirt. How she always cares for him out of habit, and how he chases her without even realising it– they kiss in that same way, like they’re saying both hello and goodbye.

Edith’s palms feel searing against his jaw, but she’s smiling, and Cal thinks he’d burn painlessly if they actually were.

“You love me.” 

It’s not an accusation anymore. 

I love you, does that scare you, too? I love you I love you I love you–

“I love you,” she says it before he can, and he looks so bewildered that she laughs. “That okay with you? You’ve gone real quiet on me.”

“You, ah… I–” He tries once, twice, and then a few times more till he can knit the three words together. “You love me?”

She hums, looking serene and maybe a bit drowsy.

“Quite so.”

[all-things-fandomstuck-writes]

A Night to Remember - Muerte x GN! Reader

Hi guys! I meant to get this posted on Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t quite finished yet. This a Muerte (Death) x Reader from Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, but, it’s set during Shrek 2. There had been talk about Muerte being there for Lord Farquaad’s death, but I thought there was a missed opportunity with Fairy Godmother’s death. And, since I don’t know any other way apparently, yes, this is an x Reader. And this is more of a drabble than an actual fic. Well, at least by my usual standards. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

Also, just a quick reminder, I do you (Y/N) in my fic, so if that’s not your cup of tea, well......

Oh, and forgive me if I mangled the Spanish. I don’t speak it, and therefore, I used Spanishdic.com and Google Translate.

TW: I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this one, especially if you’ve seen Shrek 2, but Major Character death, probably mangled Spanish (please correct me if you speak it)

I also apologize if Muerte seems a bit OOC. I’ve only been able to watch the movie once, and don’t have the money to watch it through Amazon until payday, and my usual site doesn’t have it yet. So, I haven’t been able to do several rewatches to get his character set.

Anyway, without further ado, the fic:

Muerte wasn’t one for dressing up. Not that he couldn’t, but rather, his job made it hard to do so. It’s much easier to blend into a crowd when you look like everyone else. Not that Muerte had the need to, as most people couldn’t see him, save for the dead or dying. That, and the occasional mystic who happened to be attuned to death. Truly, there had never really been a need for him to look nice. Not until today.Today, Muerte had a promise to keep. While he could never truly take time off, he did try to spend as much time with his partner, (Y/N), as his job allowed.

Ah, (Y/N). His heart and soul. The very thought of them brought a smile to his face. Muerte stood in front of his bedroom mirror, taking the time to make any and all necessary adjustments to his black dress tunic, no matter how minor or trivial they seemed. While he recognized that he still had a job to do, he was determined to make this night special. After all, it was the first time in a while his work load had reasonably lessened to allow for a breather. It had been too long since he had gotten to spend a significant amount of time with his beloved (Y/N), and he was determined to at least spend the night out with them. They had insisted on meeting him there, given the potential hecticness of his work. Muerte straightened the last of the creases from his outfit before grabbing his sickles, and opening up a portal that would take him to a special evening with the love of his life.

The night was just getting started with Muerte stepped out of the shadows, which worked well for him. He hated to keep his amor waiting. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of them. It didn’t take long to find them, as they were conveniently, and perhaps even predictably, near the spot where her arrived.

(Y/N) felt Muerte���s presence before they saw him. There was a certain chill that their lover brought with him that seemed to cling to the atmosphere around him. A smile crept upon their face as they felt their wolf’s arms wrap around them.

“Mi Vida”, Muerte spoke in their ear. (Y/N) snuggled against him, finding comfort in his coolness.

“Mi Corazón”, they replied. “I’m glad you could make it!”

At this, Muerte briefly released them, only to grab them by the hand and spin them out and away, as if in a dance, before spinning them back into his replace.

“As if I’d miss the chance to sweep you off your feet.”

“Alright”, (Y/N) said, before pulling away and turning to look at him. “Let me get a good look at you before you waltz me into a stupor.” Muerte let out a small chuckle while they smiled as they drank in the sight of him.

“My, my, we are going to have to get you dressed more often,” they said playfully. A smirk made it’s way onto Muerte’s lips .

“Don’t get used to it, Mi Vida”, he said as he held out his arm. (Y/N) graciously accepted, and allowed themselves to be lead onto the dance floor. It wasn’t long before the couple of the evening, Princess Fiona and her husband, Prince Shrek arrived, prompting Fairy Godmother to launch into a rendition of “I Need a Hero”. The crowd of onlookers, all too excited to see the couple, goaded them to dance. If (Y/N) had been paying attention, they might have noticed the look on Fiona’s face, and think that something might have been amiss, but they were too focused on the wolf next to them to care. The royal couple began their dance, as the sweet melody pour from Fairy Godmother’s lips. After the first verse however, and with a cry of “Hit it!”, the choir joined in the song, and the tempo increased rapidly. Other couples, including Muerte and (Y/N), joined in. (Y/N) held Muerte’s gaze as he expertly spun them around on the dance floor. His ruby eyes held their (e/c) ones captive, as they enjoyed the feeling of being secure in his arms. ‘How odd’, they thought to themselves, ‘that one could find comfort in Death’s embrace.’ The irony was not lost to them. The moment didn’t last long, however, as a new figure bound into the party atop a white stallion, and brought the whole affair to a screeching halt.

“Hey, you”, the newcomer said as dismounted his steed and strode towards the couple, specifically addressing the new prince. “Back away from my wife”

“Shrek?”, Princess Fiona questioned, recognizing that the man in front of her was her true husband. In an instant, Fairy Godmother came flying through the crowd, and in that moment, (Y/N) felt it. The familiar spine chilling tingle that announced someone was soon to pass. They had spent more than enough time in Muerte’s presence to know the feeling. One look into his eyes was more than enough to confirm it. He gave them a silent nod in response to the question they dared not ask.

“Looks like this night just got interesting”, they heard him say. The ball quickly dissolved into chaos from that point, as a desperate struggle for Fairy Godmother’s wand began. Eventually, it was caught by a ginger cat both (Y/N) and Muerte recognized as Puss in Boots. (Y/N) felt their lover tense slightly under their touch, clearly unhappy with the cat’s appearance.

“Ese gato estúpido”, he muttered, grip tightening on his partner’s waist. Muerte had collected Puss a few times in the past, and he hated the blatant disregard he seemed to have for his lives. The glare that was present on his face soke volumes, as he watch the cat, who now stood atop the stallion, which he then declared a donkey, and held high the Fairy Godmother’s wand in his hand.

The Fairy Godmother spun in the air towards the man who was clearly not Shrek. (Y/N) would later find out that he was the infamous Prince Charming, though that didn’t seem to matter at the time.

“She’s taken the potion!,” the fairy shouted. “Kiss her now!”

Charming swept up from behind Fiona before grabbing her by the shoulders, and planting a firm kiss on her lips.A cry of “No!” was heard from Shrek, and the party goers looked on, unsure of what was happening. Charming, hopeful that whatever plan was laid worked, briefly caressed Fiona’s cheek, as if he were being careful not to overplay it.The crowd watched with bated breath as Shrek looked away and sighed. Fiona took Charming’s face into her hands, and with a resounding cry, headbutted him to the ground. A chorus of “Ohs” and gasps rang through the crowd, before falling into a stunned silence. Charming hit the ground, and Fairy Godmother raced towards the King, and began to give him a rough scolding.

Unfortunately, Charming was quick to recover, and with a shout of “Mummy”, which confused many people, ripped the wand from Puss’s paw and threw it towards the Fairy Godmother. She caught it effortlessly before rising higher into the air.

“I told you, ogres don’t live Happily Ever After!”, she shrieked. With that, she hurled a bolt of magic towards the recently reunited couple. In a flash, Shrek pushed Fiona away from himself, and out of harm’s way. But, the King of Far Far Away was faster. Despite his old age, or possibly in spite of it, he threw himself in front of his son-in-law, and took the full brunt of the blast. The breastplate he wore bounced the beam back towards it’s origins, blasting Fairy Godmother backwards several feet. She spun heels over head, until she was able to right herself, and check for damages. Satisfied that she herself was alright, she prepared for her next attack. But, it never came, as the moment she went to strike, Fairy Godmother burst into a shower of sparkles and bubbles. Her glasses and wand hit the ground as Fiona and the Queen rushed to wear the King had once stood.

“Duty calls, Mi Vida”, Muerte softly spoke, slipping away from his partner to reap the soul of the now deceased fairy. (Y/N) bowed their head, out of acknowledgement or respect for the dead, they weren’t certain. The guests began to mourn their fallen King, before a frog crawled out of his breastplate. From their position, (Y/N) could see that it wore the King’s crown, and the royal family seemed to confirm it as well. They seemed to have a massive heart-to-heart, though (Y/N) was now more focused on their boyfriend to truly care. They loved watching him work, even though it was a rare sight for them. Considering that he’s “Death, straight up”, as he often liked to put it, Muerte didn’t want (Y/N) getting too close to his job. It was a better way to protect them, he had reasoned to himself. Not that they couldn’t handle themselves, but still. Better safe than sorry.

Muerte returned to (Y/N)’s side as Shrek was asking Fiona if she wished to remain human. Muerte’s arm snaked around their waist as the pair watched the tender scene unfold before them. They snuggled into his side, as Fiona chose to return to her ogre form to be with her husband. The royal pair, and the stallion, were lifted into the air in a swirling stream of light. As they returned to the ground, there stood two ogres, and, much to (Y/N)’s amusement, a single donkey.

The crowd cheered as Shrek dipped Fiona into a kiss. However, the sweet moment was cut short by Puss reminding the crowd that they were there to party. Both Puss and the donkey launched into a stirring rendition of “Livin’ La Vida Loca”, as fireworks lit up the night sky. Muerte scowled, clearly not over the annoyance the cat’s presence brought. “I’m gonna kill that cat”, he muttered to himself, but (Y/N) was quick to drag him out of his thought and onto the dance floor.

Pulling him into a dance, they reassured their lover. “Oh come on, Mi Corazón. For once, el gato has a point. Besides”, they shrugged, “He’s got a couple more lives. You could always hunt him down later.”

Muerte chuckled and shook his head. “That is true, Mi Vida” He smiled as he pulled them closer, eyes meeting theirs. “There’s always tomorrow.”

“There’s always tomorrow”, (Y/N) echoed, wrapping their arms around Muerte’s neck. “But for now, I have the Big Bad Wolf all to myself.” That earned then another small chuckle from their boyfriend.

“Yes, yes you do,” he replied as their (e/c) irises locked onto his crimson ones. (Y/N) was quick to notice the mischievous glint within them. Suddenly, their body was tilted backwards, though they had no danger of falling. Muerte’s grip on them was firm as he kissed them senseless.

Yes, there would always be other days. But, for now, the pair would revel in the warmth and joy of the evening, and in each other, as they continued toward their own Happily Ever After.

~

Translations:

Muerte - Death

Amor - Love

Mi Vida - My Life

Mi Corazón - My Heart

Ese gato estúpido - That stupid cat

El gato - The cat

[i-love-you-all]

A Gift for Who?

AO3 Link in case you prefer that.

Posted at 11:17pm, Feb 14, 2023 so technically still Valentine’s day :p

Also went outside my comfort zone the more I wrote so ig the primary ship is Skye/Yoru, but tremorbolt does make an appearance, and I have something else for tremorbolt later this week that’s semi-valentines day related.

4.8k Words, continued under the keep reading line. No real warnings, I don’t think...

“What, you’re telling me that no one has ever given you flowers before?”

Skye was staring at Sage with what must’ve been a ridiculous look on her face. She knew her eyes were wide, jaw slightly agape, and yet… well…

“How?”

Sage shrugged, too busy with looking over the leaves and preening the plant Skye had asked her to look over. What started as just a plant sitting job has turned into a weekly meeting between them. Sage found comfort in the work, and Skye could use the help. “I’ve received chocolates before. Cards as well.”

“But not flowers?”

“Not flowers,” Sage shook her head. “They’re much more expensive, and well… once I got older, I moved to the monastery.”

“And not since, huh?”

“No. But I don’t mind. I spent my time there training, but also, I took care of flowers. I didn’t want dead ones anymore.” She finished off the flower, snipping just a few more leaves before setting the pot aside.

“But still…” Skye trailed off. She didn’t want to keep hammering on this point. It would only make Sage feel worse and—

“WHAT?”

Both her and Sage stood up in an instant to face the source of the noise, only to relax once they saw Phoenix standing up with his chair knocked a few feet back. Cypher was chuckling while still staring at the chessboard between them, and even Sova had a small smile on his face. The hunter looked up at them first, smile widening a little more as he realized what happened. Closer to the kitchenette, even Yoru stopped staring at the chess board and was staring at them, though he had the decency to look away when he made eye contact with Skye. Good. Wasn’t like they were the ones to cause the disturbance. But Sova kept staring at her, even after Yoru walked by Skye to leave the room.

Skye liked Sova; they became fast friends when she first joined. Both of them loved nature, and they also loved animals. Sova would show her pictures, and she let him practice his tracking skills on her summons. But even with all their time together, she had trouble reading him. He looked amused at the outburst, but he looked at them with something else. It wasn’t just mirth.

And like she thought, he came to her later that evening when she was alone in the green house. Skye had been doing some late-night check-ins with her plants. She had just set down a watering can when she heard Sova clear his throat. Her arm tensed, but at least it was better than the times he had snuck up on her without making his presence known.

“I have a bell if you wanna hang that around your neck,” she offered.

He offered a small smile. His eyes flickered to plants along the side, and she could practically see him trying to frame the perfect shot on some of them. “Need one of them?”

His eyes flicked back to her. “No, I was just wondering if you’ve had experience with flower arrangements?”

“Uh, a little. But I haven’t thought about it in a long time.” With other things in her life, and other goals taking priority, she let that one hobby of hers fade. “Why’re you asking?”

“I would like to make a bouquet for someone, but of course, I’m on standby here. I cannot leave base right now.”

“And Valentine’s day is coming up?” Skye asked.

He nodded. “You have beautiful flowers, and I would be willing to pay for your plants and your services.”

Skye was about to ask why he was coming so suddenly with this idea. It felt very last minute, but then she remembered the conversation from this afternoon. Flowers. Sage had never received flowers before.

“Aw, look at you, cutie. ‘Bout time someone stepped up and got Sage some flowers.”

His smile gave away perhaps the bit of embarrassment he had kept under wraps until then.

“Name a price, and we shall negotiate,” he said.

“Nah, this is too cute to ask for money,” she waved him off. “But come wintertime, I’m gonna need someone to help move the pots into this greenhouse.”

“I will be there,” Sova smiled.

“Then that’s all settled!” She started walking out, even reaching up to plant a hand on his shoulder as she led him out.

For the next few days, she helped Sova prepare flowers. They talked about colours, patterns, and even dabbled a little in meanings. Neither of them was very familiar with the last topic, and after discovering the intricacies that went into floral messages, she could practically smell Sova’s brain frying. English as a second language was probably only making it that much more complicated for him to learn, so the secret meaning idea was quickly discarded. A theme would work much better with his vision, or lack of one as she soon found out.

Skye eagerly suggested pretty pinks and reds. Roses. A classic bouquet to show his love. However, he was quick to dismiss that. While she felt like he was going about a Valentine’s bouquet all wrong, she kept her mouth shut while he looked over flowers with pretty yellows and purples. Flowers that would probably scream “just friends” to any other woman. So, yeah, maybe Sova’s dumb man brain was just looking at the colours he personally liked rather than thinking about the overall meaning. She did draw a line at sunflowers though. The ultimate symbol of friendship. No. None of those, even though Sova looked a little rejected when she said so – or as rejected as a stoic Russian mercenary could look.

She took no pleasure in trying to guide the stubborn hunter into a path that would lead to a successful Valentine’s day celebration, and she let that be known when she met up with Breach later on in the day.

“I just… What’s he trying to do? No girl’s gonna get some mum’s bouquet and swoon. If he wants this to work, he needs to get his head out of his own ass and start thinking about this from Sage’s perspective!”

Breach paused, woodcarving knife just barely against the little wooden statuette he had been working on with Skye for the past month. “This is Sova who’s getting flowers for Sage?”

“Yeah.” Hadn’t he been listening? She wanted to ask. Then, when he looked down at the little figurine he was detailing, something clicked in her head.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Breach. I know you’ve been working on this for a while.”

He sat back in his chair, placing the blade and the little owl charm off to the side while he seemed to think. When he looked back at Skye, the look turned much less pensive, and a little more confidence. His bravado was showing again, and he smirked at Skye. “No need to be sorry. It won’t matter.”

Even though he put this façade back up, she felt knots in her stomach. God, she wished she caught this earlier, maybe even dissuaded Sova from his plan. Instead, she got so swept away that she led Sova down this path, thus shutting the door on Breach’s hopes.

“Well, you put in good work on the owl, yeah? Why not finish it for yourself?”

“It’s not for myself,” Breach said, looking at the little owl.

Skye looked down at her own bit of work, another Tasmanian tiger, almost absent mindedly brushing over the newest portions she’s carved off. There would probably be a few splinters to contest with later, but right now her anxiousness was overriding her common sense. “Yeah… yeah of course.”

Breach didn’t say much else, but he leaned forward on the desk again and picked up the charm and the knife.

“I’m almost done. Should be ready by then.”

And ok… She looked over at Breach, trying to see if he was trying to mess with her at this point. But he was just whittling away at the owl now, not really paying her any attention.

“So… How’s it been between you and him?”

“Sova?” Breach’s eyes flickered to her right before resuming his work. “It’s been the same, I guess. We talked in the morning over his tea and my coffee. Bit of banter and the like.”

It wasn’t her place to comment, but he was right in the sense that there’s been no change in their relationship. Ever since he asked her for help with this little Valentine’s day project, she’s been keeping an eye on the two of them. And sure, they no longer went at each other’s throats like they used to, but they didn’t smile at each other, she didn’t catch any secret looks between them, not like when she caught Killjoy and Raze. So, yeah, maybe she was worried for the big, part-mechanical man. His heart wasn’t made of metal after all.

He stayed for less time than normal that evening, and Skye stayed for much longer. She thought about all the things she should’ve said instead, some way to maybe shield Breach. At least if Sova was the one to break his heart, he wouldn’t blame her. She just kept looking around the greenhouse, nitpicking at her plants while she was lost in thought.

“Skye?”

The new voice startled her, and she looked towards the entrance where Yoru was leaning against the wall.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Just thinking.” She took a deep breath, feeling the energy around her stir as she focused on it. When she felt it balance out, she opened her eyes and shot a smile towards Yoru. He paused mid-step towards her. “I’m fine.”

“So, I can see.” He stood up straight now, staring at anything – the ground even – instead of at her.

“Were you looking for me?”

He opened his mouth once before closing it and shrugging. “No… Just… I needed one of your plants. I was hoping to come around when no one else was here.” There was a pause, then, “Sorry if I walked in on something. I’ll come back some other time.”

“No, you can…” She trailed off when she saw him walk off around a corner.

She sighed at nothing in particular. There was nothing she could do now for the Swede. It was all in his own hands.

.

Over the next few days, she spent more and more of her time with Sova. First was sketching the overall look they wanted, next was setting the base and decorating the vase Sova wanted, and only on the day before, would they actually stick the flowers in. The final design they went for was a mix of yellow alstroemeria with bunches of pink flowers, the only bit of romantic flair she could convince him to add. And she was glad that he fought back on her ideas because even as she suggested the pretty pink blooms, she felt the bitterness well up at the back of her throat.

Breach… he was walking his heart right into a slaughter.

She would still talk to Breach on occasion. He came by less and less, especially as their little project finished up. That wasn’t what she noticed. She noticed the shorter gym sessions, the increased disappearances, even the looks over her shoulder at no one in particular and secret messages he’d turn away from her.

The evening before Valentine’s day, the last thing he said to her as she warned once more that Sova was sending Sage flowers was, “Things’ll work out. Trust me.”

Argh. That stubborn…

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong?” She said out loud. Yoru was helping her water and care for all the plants now that Sage was on mission. She would be back tomorrow, so Sova’s plans would go well, and so Breach’s heart would get broken.

At least there was someone other than greens to hear her this time. She had just sent Sova away with the bouquet of flowers before Yoru swung by to get some fresh mint. That package was still on the table, wrapped up and yet untouched now that he was here filling up another watering can.

“It sounds like you’ve done as much as you can. Why do more?”

She gave him a deadpan look. At least he had the sense to look ashamed as his eyes flicked back to the plants.

“Because I want them both to be happy, and I want Sage happy too. But this way, I feel like I’m not giving Breach a fair shot.”

“You were patient enough to teach him how to carve something. That’s plenty.”

She sighed. Skye would like to argue, but she was both too tired to, and all out of arguments. Yoru was right. She did as both of them wanted. It wasn’t her fault that Sova didn’t like him like that. It wasn’t her fault that Breach fell for Sova anyways.

“All this drama is just too much,” she sighed. “You know, I’ve never understood Valentine’s day.”

Yoru froze. “You haven’t?”

“No! Can ya blame me? All this drama, and…” she sighed, maybe for the hundredth time this hour.

“I think the idea is nice. Love and… stuff.”

She snorted a laugh, quickly coughing to cover it up. She heard a watering can be set down as Yoru was suddenly interested in something in one of the troughs, unaware of the momentary amusement he just brought her.

“Thanks, you know?” She leaned against the only desk in this place while she watched him lift the water-filled can up and turned to her. So what if she liked the look of his shoulders as he worked? Not like she normally saw him like this when he kept that bright blue jacket on.

“No need. You said Sage wasn’t around, and I needed your garden. A trade’s a trade.”

She never realized just how little he said. But there was a depth to his tone that made her feel like he wanted to be here. He wasn’t trying to brush her off.

“Yeah, but for listening to me ramble, you know? Not everyone can stand that.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

They continued on with a little bit of chatter, a little on Jett and Phoenix’s latest shenanigans and a little on Skye’s most recent experiments with her radiant powers. By the time he left, Skye was a lot more relaxed. Worried, but no longer endlessly anxious. It was perhaps the only thing that got her to sleep knowing what the next day would bring.

.

With a mission coming back and a debrief as well as various meetings throughout the day, Skye actually didn’t get a chance to meet up with Sage, Sova, or Breach to figure out how things went. She knew how they’d go, but she needed to be there for Breach at least. Though, she wasn’t even sure if or when Sage got her flowers and if or when Sova got the owl charm. It was frustrating though, how those thoughts stayed in her mind even when she was doing her job and focusing on other tasks.

“Skye!”

She looked up from the map Brimstone placed in front of her. She had been trying to study it, commit all the landmarks to memory, but she was just getting so distracted. Sage was practically waltzing into the room though. In her hands was the white vase with the pale pink ribbon, bright pink and yellow flowers poking out at the top.

She looked happy. That could only mean that Sova was happy too. And Breach would be on his own.

“Aww look at that! You got your flowers!”

She nodded. “I came here to thank you! I’d recognize these flowers as yours any day. The smell is so wonderful, and the colours are so bright and pretty!” Then, in a lower voice, she murmured, “And while Sova is quite capable, this has your touch to it. Thank you.”

“Shucks, it was nothing,” Skye said, unable to stop smiling from the joy radiating off Sage. “It was Sova’s idea though, he should deserve some credit.”

“Of course, he and I talked about this and the process. Who knew when he first joined that he’d be so sensitive?” She was staring at the flowers now, a dreamy look overtaking her features.

“What are you up to tonight?”

“Oh, I had plans with Brimstone and Viper, but first I need to find the perfect place to put them. They’ll freshen up my room after I was gone for so long.” With that, she walked down the hall.

Huh. Her plans… weren’t exactly what she was expecting, but if they were pre-existing ones, then Skye guessed that Sage felt obligated to keep them. But this also meant… She had to find Breach.

The first place she went to was the dorm hall. She tried to knock on the door to his room, but no one answered. She had already tried to text Breach, but Breach wasn’t responding. She didn’t blame him, but she felt like he shouldn’t have blamed her either. But after trying the gym, lounge, and the training room, she had no other options but to hunt down the information broker.

Cypher looked up at Skye as she approached, remembering the last time he didn’t let her know that he saw she was there and she slammed the table, underestimating her strength and sending a few of his chess pieces flying. She took a seat this time, across from him and clasped her hands together on the table.

“I reckon you know where Breach is. I haven’t seen the bludger all day!”

He tilted his head a little. “And you assume I know where he is?”

“Don’t ya?”

Cypher looked down at the chessboard again. He could try to negotiate something with Skye, but that would take time and she could be quite stubborn when she felt like she was being ripped off… which just so happened to be every deal he has ever tried to make with her. But he looked tired, and Skye was serious. She just had to try very hard not to look too gleeful so that the next time she needed something, he would come to the same conclusion: it was easier and harmless to just give her what she wanted.

“I saw him heading towards the stairs up to the roof. How he got a key…” Cypher shrugged. “Try there.”

“Thanks. You’re a real beaut.” And she rushed off.

She ran up to the stairwell, swiping her card multiple times in a rush to open the door. Finally, on the fifth or sixth try, she got it to open, and she rushed up. Time had passed without her realizing. Just how many hours did she spend in that room? She had to blink her eyes a few times to get adjusteed to the darkness, but as she was starting to see her surroundings, she heard a few concerning things.

“Is that all you want from me?”

That was Breach, and he was talking to…

“Breach—” Sova… Shit.

She rushed around the rooftop storage to where the voices were coming from, and she froze. In front of her, Sova had his back up against the wall, one hand on Breach’s hip, and the other wrapped up in red hair at the back of Breach’s head. And Breach. She couldn’t actually see Breach’s face because it was pressed up against Sova’s neck to… well.

Without her even saying anything, maybe just from her footsteps, Sova’s head turned towards her, and his eyes widened. As the realization that he was caught hit, he yanked on Breach’s hair hard enough to pull his head back.

“What the—” Breach started forming the last word of that sentence just as he followed Sova’s eyes to Skye. It felt like his words echoed in the night air as he understood what Sova was worried about.

The two men looked at each other, and Skye just… It was like they had a whole conversation, and she didn’t speak the language. Just from their faces alone. When did they get this close?

“I told you things would be fine,” Breach smirked as he turned back towards Skye. “He liked the owl. Right?”

Sova scoffed, but then he smiled at Skye, “You did a good job teaching him. If you truly did not do most of the work.”

Breach gave a mock offended look, but then quickly leaned in to peck Sova on the lips.

“Sova,” Skye started. She was genuinely happy for Breach. She wanted this for him – to find someone else he got along with, but Sage… She seemed so happy. And for Sova to be up here with Breach meant that she would only get hurt. “I never knew you’d be such a two-timing bastard.”

He had the indecency to look shocked, as if he expected her to be polite.

“I never cheated on Breach,” he said.

“Not Breach – Sage!”

Sova’s face went blank, not from guilt, but something else. And of course, Breach picked up on whatever was going on because he couldn’t contain his laughter.

“Sova,” he mock scolded the hunter. “How dare you!”

And that got Sova to move, though not much as his hand still in Breach’s hair just tugged a little reminding him that he did know how to hurt Breach, even if he didn’t want to.

Sova looked back at Skye and said, “I respect Sage, and I enjoy her company, but I was never interested.”

“She looked so happy about the flowers though! How could you of all people—”

“There’s a misunderstanding,” Sova said with his hands up in front of him. A surrender, especially as Skye took steps towards him. “I gifted her flowers, yes, but I didn’t choose overly romantic flowers. And when I gave them to her, I made it clear that it was just a gift between friends. I respect her as a leader, but I do not see her as a love interest. She was pleased all the same, no?”

“So she knows?” She could practically feel her blood pressure dip back down to normal. “You didn’t lead her on?”

Sova shoved his hands in his pockets, and Breach automatically pressed up against him, like a shield against the wind. “No. I have no intention of making her think otherwise. It was just a token of friendship. She knows.”

“That’s… good.” Ok, so she was the one misinterpreting this all Valentine’s day thing.

“Plus, she’s spending the night with Brimstone and Viper. Do you really think they’re just gonna watch a movie? All three? In a dark room?” Breach teased.

Huh. So, there was a lot more going on around here than she thought. “What about that rule?”

“You’re talking to me. What rules?” Breach scoffed.

Sova gave him a soft slap, something that got Breach’s attention more than hurt him. Breach leaned over once more to press a kiss to Sova’s forehead and asked the hunter, “If you’re still cold you can leave first. I can finish this talk for us.”

Sova nodded.

“Your room or mine?” Breach asked as Sova walked away.

Skye watched him tilt his head, then with what she could only describe as a mischievous look – something she thought she’d never seen from Sova of all people – Sova pointed to himself. Breach nodded and watched him all the way until she heard the door close.

“Look, sorry for scaring you, but really, thank you. Couldn’t have pulled off tonight without your help with the owl. And I’m sure Sova would say the same about the flowers.”

She punched his arm, forgetting that they were metal for a second before Breach raised his eyebrows and her knuckles hurt a little. “Piss off. Ya fucking…”

He chuckled and she just shook her head.

“All that time helping us though,” Breach started, “Did you get yourself anything for Valentine’s? A date maybe?”

Skye rolled her eyes. “Not likely. Seems like everyone’s paired up already anyways.”

“Some are trio’d.”

She pulled a face, not even sure what it was for, but Breach snorted a laugh. Then, he looked past her and tapped her shoulder. “Might not be too late for you.”

Behind her, standing just at the door, was Yoru with a small box in his hands. He looked… awkward didn’t even begin to describe him. His hair was done up, but he was in a nice shirt instead of his jacket, and he looked genuinely anxious, a look she had never seen on him before.

In a more sing-song voice, Breach added, “Have fun, flower girl. Don’t forget to use some protection, ja?”

She tried to punch him again as he walked off, but his strides were long and was quickly out of reach. He whispered something to Yoru as he passed, and the riftwalker regained his characteristic annoyed features before Breach closed the door behind him, and Yoru was alone with Skye.

“Hey,” she started. And with what Breach said, the gift in Yoru’s hand, and all the increased visits, she was sure about what he was going to ask, but she still couldn’t believe it.

His cheeks were flushed a light pink as he stepped up, and if she didn’t know better, she’d say that it was due to the cold. But she would have to be dense to ignore the far more likely explanation.

“Let me guess. You really didn’t need mint leaves that night. And Sage didn’t really tell you to help me water the plants?”

He shuffled his feet a little, staring at the ground as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Then, he swallowed and shook his head. As he did, he looked her in the eyes and his arrogant façade was completely gone. He looked nervous, excited, and hopeful.

“You’re… You’re really cool.” His tone was the same one someone would use as they unwillingly gave up secrets. Maybe her face gave away her thoughts too because he followed it up with, “I mean that in a good way. I… You’re really good at your job, and uh…”

He sighed and stared at the stars. Like they would help him now.

“Is the gift for me?” she asked, trying to help him out.

“Yeah. I… made it for you. I thought you would… like it?”

Carefully, as though it were the most precious gem, and it might as well have been because, well, gosh darn it, he was just the cutest right now. She undid the pretty pink ribbon and lifted the lid off, handing it to his outstretched hand. She couldn’t help her reaction though. She felt her mouth drop open just a little as her eyes widened. On what looked like a silver chain bracelet, there were bits of what looked like wood carved vines looping between the various links and holes. Spaced out along the vine were well polished looking flowers, all painted to perfection, creating the illusion of a vine wrapping around her wrist.

“Holy…” She looked up at Yoru. “You said you made this?”

His eyes were narrowed as he was trying to gauge her reaction. “Yes? Breach would record your lessons and I would listen to them after you taught him. He… He helped. But I did the wood parts. And the painting.”

She handed him the box as she took the bracelet out, still admiring the work on it. Sure, there were a few bits here and there that she would carve differently, but this was still better than amateur work.

“Seems like I did a good job.” And there it was. His confidence was creeping back now. “I hope you like it.”

“I… I love it!” She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight. “This is amazing! No one’s ever done something like this for me.”

She hung it over her wrist, and he helped her do the clasp. Now that they were standing so close, and his head was dipped slightly so he could see the bracelet in the moonlight, she could study him. His small scrapes and scars, the furrow of his eyebrows as he concentrated, and the way he clenched his jaw. When he looked back up at her, she could only think to do one thing.

Skye leaned in towards him. His one hand that was on her wrist still slid to her elbow, then her ribs, then finally to her waist. He helped hold her up to him so that when she closed her eyes, she could feel his breath on other lips. And when they actually kissed, it just felt natural to her. Like how the wind coursed through the mountains, or how a river flowed over earth, the power of the world around them coursing through her veins, it was natural. Something they didn’t have to worry about.

When they parted, noses and foreheads still pressed against each other, she could only let out a breathy chuckle that he joined in with too.

“Thanks, Yoru. This was…”

“The best Valentine’s day?”

She thought for a bit, watching as he rolled his eyes when he realized she was just playing with him, and she nodded her head. “Yeah. I’d reckon it’s the best day I’ve ever had period.”

[neo-shitty]

heartbreak girl — y.ji

prompt. #22 — listening to them while they vent for 🤎 anon (and i apologize that this is so late, advance happy valentine’s day)

description. introducing yang jeongin: resident best friend, never the boyfriend. | track #8 of the youngblood playlist 

pairing. yang jeongin x female reader

genre. fluff, slight angst, slight pining, bestfriends!au, high school!au 

warnings. swearing, mentions and consumption of chocolate/food

word count. 1.4k

notes. finally wrote for jeongin, just in time for his birthday too! happy innie day :> | taglist: @lixesque @dominonation @sanccharine @lixiesbabyhands @jensrose @rae-blogging @cavaree @pastelsicheng​ @onlysolane​ @koroleva-rezni​ 

Jeongin’s refusal to hand over the box of chocolates must have been your last straw.

The circumstances leading to your outburst were nothing out of the ordinary. You would come up to Jeongin asking for anything (spare pens, candies, a box of chocolate today) and he’d say no just to see how long your patience would hold. But the air was different today, charged in static as the clouds formed. It took a total of (1) one ‘no’ to tip you over the edge, groaning in frustration as you stomped back to your seat. For the past half hour, you were hunched over your desk with your face tucked behind an impenetrable wall of arms, ignoring even the sharp violent ringing of the lunch bell.

Jeongin was happy to tick off one of the monumental goals off his list. Only he wasn’t as proud as he imagined he would be and the surge of guilt he felt as you walked away wasn’t even close to rewarding. In pride’s place was his conscience, like a guardian angel perched on his shoulder to remind him he crossed a line today.

It wasn’t entirely his fault really, but what he did was just the cherry to top everything off—the perfect finish to your dessert disaster that was the month of (supposed) love, February. The past two weeks haven’t been kind to you and you spent every night you were remotely free rambling over the phone about the streamline of problems that never ended. There were back to back examinations, mounds of homework, part-time child tutoring sessions, and the threat of the school’s monthly evaluations that could kick you out of the program if you slacked off. Balancing the overload had been your best asset, notorious for keeping cool as the rest of the student body was set ablaze and still managing to rank higher than regular load students.

Naturally, Jeongin suspected there was another factor. It took an effort to trick you into slipping up but only half of him thought it was worth it. Because the tornado that left a wreck in its wake was completely avoidable—a pathetic boy problem. The guy you were seeing since the beginning of the year called it quits, and as if his timing couldn’t get any impeccable, he decided to do so a week before Valentine’s. Who the fuck does that?

“_____,” Jeongin plucked his backpack off his desk, throwing the strap over his shoulder as he made his way to the other side of the room where you sat unmoving. “I’m leaving for lunch, you coming?”

No response. Not even a shift.

Jeongin sucked in a breath, trying his best to keep his hunger-borne irritation at bay. “_____!” More demanding now than earlier. “Get up and stop moping around! I hate seeing you like this!” 

You snapped your head up staring straight at him with the marks of a good nap imprinted on your cheek. “No one’s asking you to stay here and look at me, dumb ass,” you spat. “Go eat if you want to, I’m staying here. All those couples would make me lose my appetite.”

You curled back into your shell, blocking out his presence like you always did when you wanted to be ‘left alone’ but not really. So be it. Instead of walking away, he wrenched a chair out of the desk in front of you—spinning it around so he could sit facing you. He slumped down on the seat, propped his elbows on your desk and fished out his phone. It had been decided, the rest of his lunch break would be spent here.

He didn’t know why he was staying despite the audible protests of his stomach. Somehow, whenever it came to you, the inconvenience never ruled out his desire to stick by your side. Because that was what best friends were for, right? To have someone stick by your side through thick and thin, through the smartest calls and the worst mistakes.

It was almost first instinct for him to come to your aid now, even when he sucked at giving it. He never knew what advice to give, never knew the right words to say to make you stop crying. But he knew you preferred company rather than being left alone, and silent company over those who tried to let you talk about it more. And after the worst was over, you needed a buddy to trash talk the heartbreaker to.

You raised your head now, the side of your face pressed against your arms as you gazed out the window. “I just don’t know where I went wrong this time.”

Jeongin was silent at first. Then he opened his mouth to speak, “There’s nothing wrong with you. Just your poor taste in lovers, that’s all.” His phone chimed, the chair creaked, wind blew in from outside. A piece of your wall of arms broke away to deliver a strike to his arm. “Ouch, _____. All I’m saying is there are better people out there, you just happen to have a wonky radar.”

“Better people,” you scoffed.

Like me, idiot. 

The answer came too loud and Jeongin worried he actually said them out loud. But you kept your eyes on the view and his mouth was still shut. His fingers were still tapping away in a hopeless endeavor to recover the few seconds he was distracted. His avatar was low and quite cornered. 

He struck his cheek and hoped it appeared like he was just disappointed over the game. And why did he even think he was the more suitable partner? Just because he stuck around the longest? Maybe, the thought tugged deep in the back of his guilty thoughts. He lost count of all the times he had to catch you, keep your head up whenever it seemed to drop. He knew your weirdest quirks and it wouldn’t be an understatement to say he knew you better than most people did—the perfect candidate for your perfect partner. The only problem was he wasn’t what you wanted, not even close to the type of boys you got involved with, and somehow that voids everything else. Fuck it, he tells himself. Forget it.

But it’s hard to forget when he had seen it happen more times than you deserved to. Once would’ve been fine, just to say heartbreak like that happened to everyone. But to see it happen two more times? With the bags beneath your eyes darkening, your eyes bloodshot from crying, and your cheek stained with tear streaks? He couldn’t stand it.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Yang Jeongin?” He didn’t even notice he was looking at you until he found you looking right back. “You like me, don’t you?” Even with your eyes still puffy, you manage a smirk—your face a mismatch between what you feel and what you want the world to see.

Jeongin made a face. “It’s because you’re drooling.”

You sit up in alarm, rushing to wipe your mouth clean with the back of your palm. Jeongin was already up and moving away before you realized he was only tricking you. 

“Yang Jeongin!” 

His name sounded better when you said it, even with a pen flying straight toward him. You missed, but he had his own version of backfire as he tossed something right back at you. Your poor hand and eye coordination made it slip off your outstretched hands, landing on your desk in stuntman fashion—rolling until it stopped. It’s a box of chocolates, the box of chocolates. 

“So I just needed to cry so I could have it?” you asked, but Jeongin doesn’t answer. He’s halfway across the room again with his back turned. He could only put up with his stomach growling for so long.

“I thought you were giving this to someone!” Yeah, you. But you never asked who it was for specifically, he didn’t feel a need to mention it.

“Are you going to buy another one for them?” You’ve lightened up, he could hear it in the way your tone rises. Cheerful, bouncy, happy, just like how he always wanted you to be. His job was done. There was no need for another box. It’s already right where it needs to be.

“Thanks! Love you!” And he knows you didn’t mean it in the way he wanted it to. So he doesn’t bring himself to answer, afraid to slip up after coming that close. He slid the classroom door back shut and he stood out in the hallway, half his heart bare on his sleeve. 

So much for Valentine’s Day.

When he turned to gaze back inside the classroom, you were looking at him. You waved, smiling from ear to ear, muttering another thank you as you shoved a chocolate in your mouth, oblivious to his feelings as you always had been.

© neo-shitty, 2022

[liaromancewriter]

Black

Premise: Planning a perfect Valentine’s Day dinner for your girlfriend should be commended, unless you’re dating Cassie Valentine.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Mature with light NSFW. Fluff. Event Prompt: To Be (“I love you.” “That won’t get you off the hook.”) Words: 2,300

A/N: This fic is for the @choicesmonthlychallenge​ Valentine’s Challenge. The above event prompt was requested by @rosebudde, @rookiemartin and @lucy-268. Set during Second Year, a couple of weeks after Rumor Has It.  Enjoy!

Submitting to @choicesfebruary2022challenge​ Day 15 prompt “Dinner”

Dr. Ethan Ramsey had never seen the point of Valentine’s Day. It was a made-up holiday (not even a holiday truth be told), designed by retailers to sell more greeting cards, chocolates and flowers.

Not that he begrudged anyone their ability to make money, the economy being what it was. He just didn’t participate in perpetuating the fallacy of expressing one’s devotion through mass-produced platitudes.

And yet, here he was on the phone trying to reserve a table last minute at Cassie’s favorite Italian restaurant and failing miserably.

Ever since he’d declared his love for her in front of the entire hospital two weeks ago, he’d felt he ought to make an effort for Valentine’s Day. It was what one did when they were in a committed relationship, he supposed. Cassie loved romantic gestures and would be expecting something, even if she hadn’t said anything all week.

At least he’d been able to order the flowers online much faster. And he’d managed to grab the last box of passion fruit-raspberry artisan chocolates from the store she liked in Back Bay.

“I see,” he said tuning back into the conversation on the phone. “I understand. I’ll figure something out, Armand. Thanks for trying.”

Disappointed, he ended the call with the restaurant manager. Looks like going out tonight was a non-starter unless they wanted to spend half the night waiting in line with no guarantee of a table at the end of it. Time for Plan B.

He checked his calendar to see if he could leave early to go grocery shopping. He could pick up the ingredients for a traditional lasagna and just make it at home. If he doctored the jar tomato sauce with the right herbs and spices, it should be good enough. He had an excellent cabernet at home that would suit the occasion and would add body to the sauce.

Candles, some music to set the mood, dancing with the living room lights turned down low against the view of the Bay outside. All that followed by a slow seduction in the bedroom was guaranteed to make their first Valentine’s Day memorable.

It could work, he thought, inwardly pleased with the revised plan.

He blocked out his calendar and was about to text Cassie to invite her to his place after shift when the glass doors slid open and she and Baz Mirani walked in.

“I’m telling you, Baz, it was a very near thing,” Cassie was saying, her arms gesticulating as she narrated her story, throwing Ethan a quick smile. “If my friends and I hadn’t figured out the meds were amplifying each other, the team would not have made it to the World Series let alone win it.”

“Why haven’t I heard this before?” he asked excitedly, sending a nod to Ethan by way of greeting as they both took their seats at the conference table.

June Hirata arrived shortly after as Cassie finished her tale with how Jake Sandburg, who had also testified at her ethics hearing last year, had invited her and her friends to the team’s spring training in Florida later this month.

“If we’re done reminiscing, let’s get to work,” said Ethan, keeping his tone neutral as he walked over to stand at the head of the table.

Straightening his coat, he switched on the LCD screen and pulled up their patient’s latest scans. As they discussed the results and brainstormed ideas, he didn’t like the way June watched him or Cassie out of the corner of her eyes, as if wanting to call them out for any signs of impropriety.

She was going to be disappointed. Dr. Cassie Valentine wasn’t one to let anything or anyone get in the way of work, especially not her boyfriend.

And wasn’t that a strange word to apply to himself, he thought, after all these years of non-commitment. And yet, he who hated grand gestures had stood in the middle of a busy atrium making the grandest gesture of all for the woman he loved as if they were starring in a damn Hallmark movie.

“Valentine, take another pass at the patient, find out everything you can about his lifestyle,” he said at the end of the meeting, divvying up the work. “Mirani, I want you to check the journals for similar symptoms and case studies. Hirata, you’re on point for a team regroup later today. I’m taking some personal time in the afternoon and will be away from the hospital.”

“Is everything okay, Dr. Ramsey?” Cassie asked, watching him with a worried look in her eyes.

Baz repeated the question in much the same manner and June’s gaze ping-ponged between him and Cassie, eyebrows rising when it became obvious Cassie was in the dark too.

“Ethan Ramsey taking personal time. Did the world turn on its axis?” June sneered a touch too nastily.

Clearly, the world was ending if him taking a few hours for himself caused such a reaction in his team.

“Yes, yes, everything is fine,” he huffed impatiently, eyebrows snapping in annoyance at the questions and June’s tone. “Just do what I asked, please. Team dismissed.”

June was going to be a problem, thought Ethan once he was alone, and he would need to address it sooner rather than later. He made a note to speak to Naveen about it, get his guidance, and then shelved the entire matter as he headed out to see his patients.

Later that evening, Cassie pressed the buzzer outside Ethan’s building and waited for him to let her in. He had texted her earlier asking her to meet him at this apartment after shift. She had sighed in relief upon hearing from him, still worried about his earlier announcement.

He never left early or took personal time unless it had to do with his mother Louise. Cassie knew she was still in rehab, but maybe something had happened. A relapse or worse.

If that was the case, Cassie wasn’t sure how Ethan would handle it. He had reluctantly agreed to give his mother a second chance, but those scars ran too deep and would take years to heal.

When the elevator stopped at his floor, she shook away her grim thoughts. Clutching the strap of her purse, she marched determinedly towards his door and rang the doorbell.

What she saw when he opened the door had her going still as if she’d walked into a wall. The living room lighting was subdued, soft music echoed behind him and the most delicious smells permeated the air.

“What’s all this?” asked Cassie, walking past him to stop in the middle of the room.

The kitchen island was set for a candle-lit dinner, the flames flickering gently. Two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine stood next to a beautiful bouquet of red roses.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love,” said Ethan, entwining their fingers together and bending to brush his lips against her in a tender kiss.

Cassie closed her eyes and let out a short scream of frustration causing Ethan’s hand in hers to jump before she dropped it.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she griped, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest. “Is this why you left work early today?”

“Yes,” he said, his face and tone showing his confusion at her contrary reaction. “I tried to get us a table at La Roma, but I thought of it too late and nothing was available. It’s not the same thing, but hopefully the lasagna comes close to what you like. For dessert, I picked up gelato from…”

His voice trailed off when her eyes went wide at the litany of things he’d done.

“Ethan…” she began, stabbing her fingers into her hair like she did when she was frustrated. And then she took a deep breath to center herself.

“I appreciate all this,” she spread her arms to indicate the romantic setting, “but I hate this day. I wasn’t kidding last year when I told you that. I know you don’t believe in it too, so I’m just lost as to why you went to all this trouble.”

Ethan flipped through his brain for the conversation they’d had after a visit to Naveen’s hospital room on Valentine’s Day and how his mentor had teased them about it. When they stepped out into the hall, she told him to never mention this day to her. Something to do with being made fun of because of her last name.

Given what had happened in Miami and their conversation in the lab about inevitability, Ethan had thought she was trying to save face and prevent any more awkwardness between them.

Looking at her now and the deadly serious expression on her face, he realized she hadn’t been doing anything of the sort. No wonder she didn’t say anything all week or even this morning during their coffee break at Derry’s.

As far as she was concerned, it really was just another day but sadly one where her family name was used as a greeting or a punch line. No wonder she hated it.

“I’m sorry, Cassie. I guess I got our signals mixed,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I love you?”

“Nice try,” she countered, “but that won’t get you off the hook. I do love that you did all this for me even though I know you hated it. But I’d rather celebrate another way.”

“What way is that?” he grinned, sensing the tension ease.

She leered and then nodded towards the windows. “Remember our first time? I want you to take me up like you did then, make it last as long as you can. Do what only you can do to me and make my world go black with desire. All night long.”

He stepped into her space. His hands framed her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as his blue eyes locked with her green ones. He swooped down to cover her mouth, his tongue darting inside to tangle with hers, capturing her moans. 

Her hands gripped his hips, pulling him close, pressing her body against his. He broke off the explosive kiss, panting as he tried to catch his breath. 

She reached for his belt, undoing the buckle before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Her hand slipped inside the opening to stroke him through his boxer briefs and he groaned, pushing himself into her eager fingers.

“Take them off,” she growled, pushing him back on to the couch. 

She climbed on top of him, her thighs straddling his. He lifted his hips as she pulled his pants down and then off, throwing them somewhere in the distance. 

His shirt was next as she unbuttoned it and spread it open, raking her fingers down his chest. She peppered kisses along his collarbone before drifting below to swirl her tongue over his nipples.

“I thought I was the one supposed to be seducing you,” he teased, head thrown back as she trailed kisses down his torso and slipped her fingers below the band of his underwear.

“You’ll get your chance,” she said, looking up at him with a wicked grin, her slumberous eyes half hidden beneath long lashes. “First I need to thank you properly for the lasagna, the wine, the gelato. Consider this the appetizer round.”

Before she could go further, he reached down to pull her back up and kissed her deeply. Keeping her locked against him, his lips moved urgently against hers, not letting up until they were both aching with want.

“If it’s the first time you’re after, Rookie,” he smirked, “I believe we need to change the scene.”

With that, he grasped her hips, holding tight as he stood up from the couch and carried her into the bedroom, setting her down in front of the wall-to-ceiling windows.

“Now, what did you say about dessert?” he said, gazing into her eyes, the smile curving her lips all too familiar.

“I believe you’re supposed to show me the view,” she challenged, leaning back against the glass and spreading her legs open.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he said, reaching for the hem of her dress and tugging it over her head, dropping it to the floor.

“Now that you’ve solved that pesky problem,” she teased, “what’s next?”

He pressed his body along her front, feeling the cold glass as he clasped her hands and raised her arms above her head, holding them against the window. His lips cruised over her jaw before tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue, enjoying the shivers that ran through her as he suckled one breast, then the other.

By the time he knelt in front her, her thighs were quivering from anticipation, her core glistening from desire. Impatient, she clutched the back of his head and tugged him close, offering herself. His mouth closed over her center, his tongue swirling the nub, stabbing inside as her moans rose.

He glanced up, his grip on her hands tightening so that she was forced to open her eyes and meet his gaze. Eyes locked together, he took her over the edge, catching her in his arms when she melted and her world went black.

Later, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, his arms wrapped around Cassie who was asleep, her head nestled into his shoulder. He thought back to the grand plans he’d made for today and silently laughed when he realized that only one thing had gone according to plan.

If this was how she preferred to celebrate Valentine’s Day from now on, or not celebrate it as the case may be, then he was very much along for the ride. 

He had finally found someone who challenged him in every way possible; someone he didn’t have to pretend with. And nothing said inevitable better than that.

@choicesficwriterscreations​ @openheartfanfics​

Tagging in reblog

[littleoddwriter]

Can I make a request for the Sinclair brothers, Chucky/Charles, Pavi Largo, Billy Lenz and Dan Torrence with a GN!s/o who knits and their reaction to getting a hand knitted gift for an anniversary? Bonus points if you include what you think the gift could be!

Slashers x GenderNeutral!Reader, who knits | Headcanons

Thank you so much for this request! (Also, thanks for throwing Dan in the mix, I haven't written for him in forever, I missed that). <3 I really hope you enjoy these. :)

[My requests are open, so feel free to come into my Inbox with whatever you have in mind. But be sure to read my Pinned Post, BEFORE you do. Thanks!]

notes; GenderNeutral!Reader; Domestic Fluff; Anniversaries; Gifts.

Billy Lenz

Loves to watch you knit; you’re always so focused and your hands and fingers move so beautifully in quick and sure movements

It is so soothing to him to just sit there, or stand somewhere you wouldn’t see him, and observe you work (you always know when he's there and looks, even when he's not visible, you can feel his eyes on you and it makes you smile)

So when you try to make Christmas a more enjoyable day for him, you put a hand knitted forest green turtleneck sweater and a scarlet scarf under the tree for him

When he opened the present, he couldn’t help but gasp and look back and forth between the gift and you with wide eyes and a slack mouth

He loved them! They were so cosy and beautiful and smelled so wonderful – these two items were pure comfort for him

He did his best to thank you, but could barely string the words together coherently at all, but the way he stuffed his face into the thick collar and the scarf after he tried them both on, told you more than words ever could

Bo Sinclair

He thinks knitting is boring and for old people; he really doesn’t understand why you like doing it

But he has to admit that he enjoys seeing you knit something when you two are just having a lazy afternoon or night – you just look so at peace and yet very passionate, which is something he appreciates about you

Still, it was a big surprise to him when he received a knitted sweater and a pair of gloves from you for his birthday in November

It was even more surprising to him that he loved them – you’ve done an amazing job and the sweater fit perfectly and the gloves too; all items were olive green which he’d once mentioned as his favourite colour to you

It touched him that you remembered it at all and he couldn’t help but to kiss you breathless to thank you for your efforts

The sweater quickly becomes his most worn piece of clothing during the colder days

Lester Sinclair

Thinks knitting is a great hobby and you are clearly very talented and he really admires you for it

He really enjoys the times when you two just sit on the bed and cuddle, while you’re knitting; it’s so peaceful and the rhythmic clanking of your knitting needles calms him down

You know he loves his hat and he never takes it off, unless he really has to

So, it’s only natural that your gift for your one-year anniversary to him would be a hand knitted dark sky blue hat for him

Additionally you threw in a little sweater vest for his dog, which he is super ecstatic about

Lester is all over you when he receives those gifts and now your knitted hat is what he wears all the time, no matter how hot it may be, he won’t exchange it for a different one

Vincent Sinclair

He considers knitting just as much of an artful craft as his wax figures are (and it is!)

So, he really enjoys when you two spend time together, sitting downstairs, and knitting and working on wax figures respectively, – it’s the most peace and quiet he’s ever had in his life with another person

He always praises your finished pieces and shows the deep appreciation and admiration he has for them, just like you do with his own; it’s so perfect for you both

It only makes sense for you to knit him something for his birthday – a tan, oversized sweater and a black scarf that he can bury his face in (and he does)

He can’t believe that you’ve made these beautiful things for him and that you wanted nothing in return; he couldn’t possibly thank you enough for your unyielding kindness that you keep showing him

Of course the sweater and scarf are quickly his all-time favourite clothing articles to wear from that point on; he only washes them very reluctantly

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Teases you for having such an old-fashioned, boring hobby; but it’s in good nature and you never take it to heart

Especially not when he sits there, looking at you as you knit, when he should actually be watching the movie you two put in to have a relaxing evening – it makes you smile, though

When Valentine’s Day rolls around, you thought it to be the perfect opportunity for you to gift him something that ought to show him just how much you loved him – so, you knitted some things for him

It ends up being bright sky blue gloves, and a matching hat and scarf – a full set; because he never likes admitting it, but he actually gets cold easily

He is shocked when he opens your presents, but he is beaming at you after a moment, a genuine thank you leaving his wide-stretched lips

Anytime it gets a little colder, he is wearing the full attire; he loves it (you) so much, but you better don’t tell anyone

Dan Torrance

He loves that you’ve got such a peaceful hobby and he never ceases to shower you in compliments about your creations – he just admires your talent so much and wants to support you

It’s a little hard to make gifts for him, because he’ll involuntarily be able to hear you think about it, no thanks to his shine

So, without even thinking about it at all, you’ve knitted an azure blue sweater for him and gave it to him at random, just because

His eyes might be a little wet when he holds it up in front of himself and smiles at you so brightly

It becomes his favourite sweater quickly and he kindly asks you if you could perhaps make more for him – they just make him feel so warm on the inside, so cared for and loved, which is something he hasn’t felt since forever, but especially not since his mother has died

This blue pullover is the one he then wears at his AA meeting that officializes his eight years of sobriety

Pavi Largo

He never really gets behind knitting and why you like it so much, it seems far too tedious and boring to him

But he has to admit that all your creations look rather cosy and so full of love, which would be strange if anything could really feel obscure to him at all

Often at night he gets a little cold and you feel him shivering, but he also refuses to add another blanket to the mix

Well, you took that personally and started knitting a big throw blanket for him for his birthday that was coming up anyway (very convenient for you, of course)

No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t hide the sharp intake of breath and huge smile that grows on (under) his masked features – this was just so thoughtful and the blanket is so fucking soft, he wants to bury himself in it

It’s safe to say that he’s never cold at night ever again (and that he really likes burrito-ing himself in the hand knitted blanket you made for him)

[seijorhi]

A Thousand Words

as promised, a Valentine’s Day fic 💕 

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

TW implied dub/non-con, cheating, minor choking/abuse, nsfw(ish)

You break up with Iwaizumi two weeks before Valentine’s Day, standing in the doorway of the apartment you share with him.

And you hate that it still hurts, still tugs at the wretched, broken strings of your heart to watch that rare, beautiful smile of his fracture like glass, confusion giving way to disbelief and then finally anguish.

Iwa’s never been the best with his words, but it seems that you’ve robbed him of those too as you tell him that your relationship’s over. He just stands there, wide eyed, agonised as you shove your phone – the proof – into his face, a hoarse, strangled whisper of ‘why’ leaves his lips. 

It seems that it’s all that he’s capable of.

There’s nothing for him to say anyway. You don’t want his apologies or his excuses. The pictures are evidence enough. 

A boys weekend, he’d told you, and you’d trusted him. You loved him. He wasn’t like your ex, Iwa would never deliberately do anything to hurt you. 

He knew what fidelity meant to you.

You’d thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with him, but those pictures are enough to show you what a fool’s dream that was. Iwa, naked in bed, wrapped around some other woman.

Sleeping so peacefully, curled up by her side, like he’d done with you a thousand times.

And it doesn’t matter whether he was drunk or not. It doesn’t matter if he knew her or paid for her or found her at some fancy fucking bar downtown. He cheated on you, he broke your heart and he doesn’t get to watch you fall apart in front of him.

You save your tears until the door swings shut, collapsing onto the floor with a heartbroken wail as the man you love walks away.

—

Iwaizumi doesn’t remember much of that night. He’s never been a lightweight, but the drinks they were knocking back would’ve been enough to take out the best of them. And Iwa didn’t have to worry, not when he was out with friends. 

God knows they’d gotten him into so much shit when they were younger and stupider, but between the four of them they’ll stop each other from doing anything too damaging. They have careers now (most of them, anyway) and reputations to protect. And Iwa had you.

Out of everything; his career, his reputation, his livelihood, you were the one thing Iwa wouldn’t risk fucking up.

The night itself is a hazy, incomprehensible blur, but he does remember the girl. Not her name or where she came from, but he remembers her. A pretty face with a sultry smile, wearing some short, tight, shimmering dress. He remembers her sitting on Oikawa’s lap, fingers carding through his hair, red lips kissing at his jaw.

And he remembers Oikawa lounging back in his seat, barely paying the poor girl an ounce of attention, even when her hand started to run teasingly up his thigh, those same sinful lips whispering into his ear.

How the girl managed to find her way from Oikawa’s lap to his hotel bedroom is beyond him, but the pictures don’t lie. It’s his arm wrapped around her waist, her skin littered with love bites and fingerprint shaped bruises.

It was her mouth he’d woken up to, trailing a slow, teasing path up along his chest. He’d shoved her aside, snapped and snarled until the pretty thing welled up with tears and all but fled, leaving him to fall back into the sheets full of self loathing and disgust, wondering how he could possibly have fucked up this badly.

And when he threw up later, hurling until there was nothing left in his stomach, he knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d drunk.

Iwa hadn’t known that anybody knew, hadn’t thought that there was proof – not until you were shoving it in his face, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to keep your tears at bay. And what could he say? 

It was a mistake?

He was drunk?

Iwa doesn’t make excuses, you deserve more than that. You deserve more than him.

He should’ve fallen to his knees and begged – begged you through tears if he had to – for you to give him a second chance. But the words stuck in his throat, because the look of absolute, utter heartbreak on your face felt like a fist driving into his gut, and he wasn’t sure if he even deserved it.

You break up with him two weeks before Valentine’s Day, entirely unaware of the ring he’s been carrying around in his pocket for almost a month now, and Iwaizumi doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

So he does the only thing he can, and calls Oikawa.

—

Moving your things out of the apartment you’d spent the last year and a half sharing with your boyfriend – your ex-boyfriend – takes less time than you think. The life you’d started to build with him, packed up in nice neat little boxes in only a few hours.  

And you’re grateful that he’s not there. He’d messaged you to tell you that he wouldn’t be, the only contact you’d had with him since breaking up. 

It’s not the pictures on the nightstand, Iwa’s strong arms wrapped around you, a dopey little grin on his face that gets to you – it’s the World’s Best Boyfriend mug he’d bought you as a joke one day, the old hoodie of yours that was actually his, the one you’d worn half to death because it was warm and smelled like him. 

It’s hard enough to do this without him hovering over you, but stupidly you’d forgotten that while Iwa had promised not to be there, he wasn’t the only one with a key to your shared apartment.

The lock clicks and the door swings open just as you’re finishing up in the bedroom and for one single, split second, your heart jumps into your throat.

But the brunette that saunters in isn’t the one you’re still in love with, and you’re quick to brush away the tears on your face before he can see.

Before he can mock you for it.

Oikawa, ever the charmer, merely grins when he catches sight of you. 

“Did Iwa send you to supervise?” you say in lieu of a proper greeting, the words slightly more bitter than you intend – even for him. 

He isn’t bothered by it, his grin widening just a fraction as he turns and settles down on the bed, long legs stretched out, ankles casually crossed over. He looks entirely too comfortable there and it’s an effort not to bristle.

“Well hello to you too,” he says, his voice a teasing lilt. “Are you always this fun in the mornings?”

Your brows draw together in a frown, but just as you open your mouth to snap a retort, his palms come up in a gesture of mock surrender. “No, Iwa did not send me to supervise you. He doesn’t know I’m here, actually.”

“Then why are you here? To gloat?” you spit.

Oikawa’s eyes glitter, amusement tugging at his lips. You love Iwaizumi, and for his sake you’ve spent the past few years tolerating the constant, overbearing presence of his best and oldest friend. Oikawa, on the other hand has never made all that much of an effort to hide the fact that he doesn’t exactly approve of your relationship with his friend.

Oh, he’s never outwardly rude or hurtful. He doesn’t sit there and spew abuse at you, and as far as you know he hasn’t tried to sway Iwa into leaving you since the very early days of your relationship, but Oikawa doesn’t need to be overt to make his feelings clear.

He treats you like a one night stand that hasn’t quite gotten the hint that it’s time to fix your dress and move right along. 

You still haven’t forgotten the night you all went out to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday, how he’d slid into Iwa’s empty seat the moment he’d slipped out to get another round of drinks and spoken so casually, as if it was nothing but a friendly conversation. Small talk. 

“You know it won’t last; you and Iwa.”

And you hadn’t said a word, not wanting to be baited into fighting – into ruining Iwa’s night. You hadn’t even scowled at him, just sat there, pretending that he didn’t exist as you waited for your boyfriend to come back to you. 

“You’re cute together, I’ll give you that much,” he’d mused, swallowing the last mouthful of his beer. He’d studied you from beneath long lashes for a moment; a sharp, lingering look entirely at odds with the easy, relaxed tone of his voice. “But you two aren’t a good match. You don’t belong with him.”

You never did figure out exactly what you’d done to make him dislike you so much, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. 

Not when he’s finally proven himself to be right. 

“Please,” he says with a scoff, rolling those pretty eyes of his, “as if I’d be so immature. I’m just here to make sure you don’t steal the coffee machine – it’s so much better than the one I have at home.”

He spends the next half hour trailing you from room to room, looking entirely too delighted at your misery. It’s almost a relief when you slip into the bathroom just for a moment’s fucking peace, brushing angrily away at the tears that still haven’t left you.

You almost – almost – reach for your phone to message Iwa and tell him to call off his stupid, infuriating friend, except you’d left it lying on the kitchen bench.

—

His head hurts. An incessant pounding, throbbing ache that makes him want to hurl.

Rationally, he’d known that the cure for the monstrous hangover he’d given himself wasn’t going out for a run at five in the morning, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was either that or keep drinking, and considering it was the alcohol that had gotten him into this fucking mess in the first place…

“I need to fix this,” he groans, dropping his head into his hands, letting his fingers roughly run through the tangles of his hair. “I need to fucking fix this.”

He looks like shit, feels like shit, but he can’t bring himself to care, not even as a solid weight drops itself onto the couch beside him. 

“You need to give her space, Iwa,” Oikawa comments with a sigh, passing him a glass of water that he gratefully chugs. “Give her time to figure things out. She’s hurting, and you constantly harassing her won’t do you any favours in trying to win her back.”

He wants to see the truth in his friend’s wisdom. He knows he hurt you, he knows he fucked up, but–

You’d already moved your things out.

He’d known that, of course he had, but coming home to see every trace of you just gone was like a gut punch. He was gonna marry you, get down on one fucking knee in front of everybody and– and now you’re gone and he’s crashing in his best friend’s spare bedroom because the thought of going home without you there is too fucking painful for him to bare.

And he only has himself to blame for it. 

But you’re his future, the only one he really gives a damn about, and he’s not one to just give up and walk away. Iwa doesn’t care if it takes weeks or months, he doesn’t care if he has to spend the rest of his life making this up to you; he will. 

He can’t just let you go. 

Oikawa continues to try and talk sense beside him, but he’s barely paying attention, only offering a small grunt of acknowledgement when he feels the brunette’s eyes studying him. He knows that he’s only trying to help, but he can’t honestly remember the last time Oikawa bothered to introduce him to one of the girls hanging off his arm. He knew as well as his friend did that there wasn’t much point – they wouldn’t be sticking around for long. Fuck, he doesn’t think that Oikawa’s ever had a serious relationship in his life, so excuse him if he’s a little hesitant to take his advice as gospel.

And Oikawa doesn’t know you like Iwaizumi does. He doesn’t understand you, doesn’t see what Iwa does when he looks at you. You’re like… sunlight. There’s no other way he can describe it. It’s cheesy and stupidly sappy, he’d rather be shot than admit it out loud, but he’s never met another person so–so… radiant. You burn bright, and Iwaizumi can’t help but be drawn to you – your warmth and your softness and everything about you. You’re beautiful and caring and you’re home and he’s terrified that if he waits too long, somebody else is gonna see that and snatch you up for themselves and he won’t even be able to blame them for it.

He knows he fucked up, knows that you probably (rightfully) hate him, but he has to try. 

So he ignores the way that Oikawa huffs and rolls his eyes when he reaches for his phone, opening up your last conversation.

Please, can we talk? I know you don’t want anything to do with me right now but I’m begging you. Just ten minutes?

And his heart pounds against his ribcage so violently that he thinks he might be sick as he waits for it to send. Waits for the little ‘Read’ notification to pop up.

And waits.

And waits.

Error. Message failed to send.

He tries again, distinctly aware of the Oikawa’s watchful, curious gaze peering over his shoulder.

Error. Message failed to send.

There’s a sinking feeling in his gut and in his panic, he presses the call button, bringing the phone to his ear with a sick feeling in his stomach.

It doesn’t even ring, there’s just three beeps and the line disconnects.

You’ve blocked his number.

—

You second guess yourself with every step, but you don’t stop and you don’t turn around. 

The radio silence from your ex had been a little unexpected, but you’d been the one to tell him in no uncertain terms that the two of you were done.

You were the one to make a point of moving out, keeping the few messages you’d exchanged short and to the point. Were you expecting him to fight you on it? Blow up your phone with messages and voicemails begging you to come back? Maybe show up at your door demanding that you hear him out and give him another chance. 

Were you maybe just the tiniest bit disappointed that he hadn’t? 

It wasn’t remotely fair to expect that of him, you know that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart had leapt into your throat the moment his message had come through after days of nothing.

Can we talk face to face? I need to see you. 

Two sentences, that was it. And you’d spent the better part of an hour debating whether or not you should reply.

Because you love him still, despite it all. 

The last person you’d given a second chance to had used that chance to walk all over you. He’d broken your heart, your trust, and any semblance of self worth you’d had. Iwaizumi had been the one to build you back up afterwards. 

And now he’d done the same thing. Knowing what you’d gone through before, and it gutted you.

The date on the calendar hasn’t slipped your attention. It’s Valentine’s Day, and you’d spent all morning trying to forget that if things were different, you would have spent the day with Iwa. He’d been secretive about his plans, tight lipped for once in his life, and there’d been some part of you that had wondered, hoped even… but instead you’re sitting alone in a hotel room, feeling miserable for yourself. 

If you were stronger, maybe, and if today were any other day, you might have ignored the message, the way those two brief sentences made your pathetic heart ache, but–

But… perhaps you had been a little too hasty when you’d broken it off. Iwa hadn’t said a word to defend himself, but you hadn’t really given him the option, had you?

Agreeing to meet with him wasn’t agreeing to brush it all under the rug. It wasn’t a promise of forgiveness, or even really an olive branch. It just meant that you would go to hear him out, that’s all.

Just to hear him out.

Yet your stomach’s twisting into knots as you walk up the familiar steps, your heart beating out an unsteady rhythm. You love him, despite it all.

You love him, but that doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you raise a fist to knock.

The smiling face that greets you when that door swings open, however, is not the one you’re expecting.

“Hey there, cutie. You’re early.”

Oikawa.

For one single, floundering heartbeat, confusion grips you. Why was he– was Iwaizumi not coming? Had you misunderstood the message, or… or had he changed his mind, backed down at the last second and sent his friend to hammer the final nail into the coffin of your failed relationship.

You didn’t think Iwaizumi would be the type, though. He’d never been cruel, he’d never been cowardly, either.

“I don’t… understand,” you breathe, wide eyes darting around as if you’re expecting your ex to suddenly pop up behind his shoulder and shove him aside with a growl, telling him to butt out of your relationship the way he had countless times before.

Yet Oikawa offers no explanation, that same stupid, infuriating grin widening as he steps back to let you in, and you, somewhat robotically, follow him inside. Your eyes flicker from his back to the apartment around you – it’s exactly how you left it last week, not a single thing out of place. 

“Iwa said–” but your voice falls silent as you realise that no, that’s not true. 

The door to your bedroom is ajar, soft, flickering light spilling out from the crack, but that’s not what catches your attention. It’s the rose petals on the floor, the dulcet music playing so quietly you’d missed it entirely. 

Your brow furrows, breath catching in your throat as you stare at the scene before you, utterly frozen. You don’t register Oikawa stepping closer, nor the dark hunger brewing in his eyes. None of this makes any sense, you don’t understand–

“Iwa’s not coming.” Long, delicate fingers grip your chin, tilting your face and before you can even draw breath his lips are pressing against yours. It only lasts a second, long enough for your lagging brain to register that Oikawa is kissing you, here, in the middle of the apartment you’d shared with his best friend.

Oikawa, who hates you. Who’s cupping your cheek, gazing at you with an expression so eager and wanting, so unnervingly wrong that it makes your heart clench in fear and your blood run cold.

His thumb brushes along the curve of your cheekbone,  “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

And then he’s grabbing at your hand, fingers entwining with yours as he tugs you towards the bedroom, and finally the shock wears off enough for reality to kick in.

“What the fu– Oikawa, get the hell off of me!” you snap, trying to wrench yourself free. But he’s stronger than he looks, and his grip merely tightens.

“Tooru,” he calls back, glancing over his shoulder with that impish, wicked little smirk. “I want you to moan it for me tonight. You can do that for me, right cutie?”

You’re not a violent person, you’ve never been the type to lash out with fists and blows, but something inside of you just snaps at his words, and before you can stop yourself, your open palm flies towards his face. 

Quick as lightning, Oikawa spins, catching at your wrist and slamming you up against the living room wall. A small burst of pain radiates through your skull from the impact, your breath forced from your lungs in a pathetic squeak as he boxes you in. There’s not a moment for you to catch your breath, though, not with his forearm pressing down on your throat just hard enough so that you can feel it. He’s always been taller than you, but you’d never considered him to be intimidating – not until he’s looming over you, teeth bared in that feral smirk.

“Oh, baby. If you’re not going to play nice, I won’t either.” His fingers tighten on your wrist, squeezing until a choked whimper slips out and he kisses you once more. Not soft or sweet, but bruising, teeth clacking, nipping and biting and harshly sucking at your bottom lip until you return it.

And when he pulls away, there’s blood on his lips – yours – and he licks it away with a satisfied little hum. “I put effort into this, you know,” he says, his tone almost conversational if not for the slight pant, the shivering undercurrent that laces every word. Oikawa leans closer, and you can feel the outline of his cock, hardening already as he presses it against you, rutting his hips ever so slightly. “Set the bedroom up nice and romantic for our first time together.”

He kisses you again, a sweet, tender peck, smiling when you part.

“But if you want me to fuck you here first, up against the wall, all you had to do was say so.”

—

The girl had been easy enough to convince to play along, which probably should have disgusted him. 

She looked like you; a cheap imitation, of course, but close enough. Oikawa could kid himself that it was for Iwaizumi’s sake, to sow the seeds of doubt in his head, but he knows as he forces her face down into the pillow, slamming his hips against her ass like a man possessed, that that’s not the whole truth.

But she served her purpose well enough, letting him fuck her, mark up that pristine skin with the same kind he’d seen littered across your neck and collarbones, your thighs–

And she’d still tried to kiss him the moment before slipping out of her robe and climbing into his best friend’s bed. Given him that playful wink, biting her bottom lip seductively as if she were anything but a means to an end for him. 

As if he hadn’t forgotten her name the moment he’d gotten those pictures.

Oikawa knows all about your ex and how that asshole treated you, out of all the possible scenarios he could have engineered, this would be the one that’d hurt you the most. He’d thought that you would fly off the handle, kick Iwa out for a few days and leave the door open just wide enough for him to weasel his way in, but you’d gone one step further. 

You’d left him.

Broken his heart completely, the way he’d broken yours. Oikawa couldn’t have planned it better himself, and oh what he would have killed to have been there to see it. 

And it’s not that he enjoys his best friend’s pain – truly, he wants Iwa to be happy, he does.

Just not with you. Not when you’re his.

It was easy enough to bully Iwa into revealing when you’d be coming over to pick up your things. Easy enough to rile you up to the point you’d run and hide just so he wouldn’t see you shed all those pretty tears.

Leaving your phone unattended. And really, it’s your own fault for choosing such an obvious passcode – how could he possibly resist?

You were none the wiser, his poor, unsuspecting little idiot. 

Yet for all your posturing and your badly concealed hurt, he’d known that you’d show up today. You’re a romantic at heart, and you’d let yourself be walked all over again if you thought it meant that somebody loved you, wouldn’t you?

You would’ve said yes when he’d gotten down on one knee, and when he’d come back to you with tears in his eyes, drowning in regret and you saw what a mess Iwaizumi was without you, you would have forgiven him – even if it meant giving him the power to break you all over again.

Oikawa honestly doesn’t know whether he should admire or pity you for it.

It hardly matters now, he supposes. Not when you’re so beautifully wrecked, lying nestled against his bare chest with those tears he adores spilling down your flushed cheeks. Every thump of your heart echoing his. 

He wonders if he should send Iwaizumi a picture. 

[bleachhaven]

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 5/6

Author’s Note:

It should be noted that this story is almost coming to a close...I’m sad to stop writing about Shunsui but it’s time to wrap this one up. So there’s maybe 1 or 2 more parts left.

Warning: A bit of smut ahead. One can only be seduced endlessly for so long without something happening about it.

–

Read Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3  and Part 4 first!

Uncharacteristically, Shunsui was late to arrive at the office. It was almost ten in the morning when he finally strolled in. Nanao would have admonished him without a thought but the dark circles beneath his eyes revealed he had already had a terrible night. She didn’t want to make it a terrible morning as well.

Shunsui didn’t have the excuse of drunken debauchery at some late night party for his tardiness. The last party he’d been to had been Lisa-chan’s Valentine’s Day celebration and that was over two weeks ago.

It was more or less about how his loneliness and melancholy had kept him up late into the night. Something he definitely didn’t want to burden sweet Nanao-chan about.

He had found himself strolling randomly in seireitei at around three in the goddamn morning because simply staying in his bed staring at his ceiling felt impossible. He didn’t have these kind of difficult nights too often but when he did have them, they were quite terrible.

Sure, he missed Juu. But his loneliness was a bit more than that this time.

It has been over two weeks since he had received anything from his beloved Secret Admirer. Fourteen whole days of complete silence from her was quite unusual, and he felt it acutely. Where was she?

The darkest of thoughts had plagued him at night. What if she was sent on a dangerous mission? What if she had been injured? He hated to think it...but what if she was never coming back? Hadn’t he honestly lost enough? 

The thoughts spiraled as the evening progressed into the wee hours of the morning, growing darker and more melancholy.

He knew he was not the greatest catch in the Soul Society. That title fell to Byakuya, uncontested. Shunsui was older than everyone in seireitei - a thousand years too old, he’d say. He was nobility too but he wasn’t one to truly fit into that mould, which deterred most noblewomen from considering him. 

He wasn’t what one would call conventionally handsome either. He knew he wasn’t ugly...but he wasn’t exactly...whole. Not anymore. Maybe once he would have held some appeal and he had many lovers who thought him handsome enough to have a tumble with him... but the eyepatch never failed to remind him that he was never going to be good looking, by anyone’s standards, with a goddamn hole in his face.

Most days, none of this would honestly bother him. But last night it did.

His beloved Secret Admirer probably came to the conclusion that he wasn’t worth all the trouble after all. Surely, there had to be a reason why he had never been able to have a long term relationship. He blamed it on his job but...was that all it was? Maybe he was just not meant to have a happily ever after with someone.

As romantic as he was, he didn’t really believe in the concept of happily ever after. He knew relationships were work. It was a commitment between two people who cared about each other to work on staying together through whatever. With time, he had put any thoughts of a relationship on the back burner. With his duty to the Gotei 13, and his responsibilities as well as the added burden of maintaining his reputation as the Soutaicho...it was a practical choice. 

But his Secret Admirer had made him want. Had made him yearn for a happily ever after for himself in a way he never had before.

He wanted to be loved and cherished as much as he wanted to love and cherish that one special person in his life. But did he really deserve it?

He knew it was her silence that had his latent insecurities rising to the surface keeping him up at night.

So as sleep deprived as he was, he came to the office with a plan. He couldn’t bear her silence anymore so he was not going to. With everything that had come up in the office, he hadn’t been able to finish up the letter he had started to write to her. At that time, it had felt futile considering there was no way to send it to her. 

But he had a brilliant idea. He would have it published in the next installment of the Seireitei Communication including just enough information so that she would know it’s him while withholding enough details to still keep it anonymous. He could trust Hisagi-kun to be discreet.

He had a plan, and it could actually work!

If only he could actually find that bit of lavender paper he had left on his desk.

“Nanao-chan, did you remove anything from my desk by any chance?” he asked, opening up drawers and bending down to check under the desk.

Nanao looked up from the training schedule she was working on. “Nothing more than the usual paperwork. Why what have you lost now?” she asked with an overexaggerated sigh.

“My, my, Nanao-chan. You make it sound like I lose things on a daily basis.”

“The only thing lost on a daily basis around here is my sanity,” she said, rolling her eyes. Still she relented. A distressed Taicho always meant a distressed Nanao. “Fine. Describe it to me and I will tell you if I saw it anywhere.”

“It was nothing official. Just a bit of lavender paper I had been writing on…” he trailed off seeing the look on her face. “What? Did you see it?”

“You lost the letter you were writing to you Secret Admirer?” she asked.

“Nanao-chan! How did you…?”

“You forget, Taicho,” she said quite matter of factly. “There’s nothing that goes on here I don’t know about. But I haven’t seen it. Maybe it got mixed up in some paperwork and got sent to another division. I don’t think anyone would recognize your flowery handwriting which you reserve for your personal correspondence anyway. So nothing to worry about.”

Shunsui simply stared at her. He has known his little fuktaicho for too long to not notice that something was off. All this time, he thought she was just laughing at his expense because he was mooning over someone he didn’t even know. But now...that look...the way she said it without even having to think about it...it all felt fishy somehow. Nanao-chan was up to something.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she huffed, correcting the papers on her desk that didn’t need correcting. A nervous habit that always gave her away. “If you don’t have any serious work, I have a pile of forms…”

“You know perfectly well who it is, don’t you, Nanao-chan?” he interrupted her attempts to distract him.

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“Please, Nanao-chan. It’s perfectly obvious you know exactly what I am talking about. Just...tell me…” he said.

He was so serious and intent. Nanao had only ever seen him like that in the heat of the worst kind of battle. She dropped her pretenses as well.

“She and I have both left enough breadcrumbs for you as it is. So if you’re so desperate to know who she is, why don’t you do the work to actually find out?” she asked him. “Clearly the girl cares about you but is terrified to approach you. Who wouldn’t be considering who you are and the position you hold. She is a nice girl, Taicho. But as things stand, she wouldn’t be the one to approach you so maybe you should find out for yourself who she is and do the approaching.”

So Nanao did indeed know who his Secret Admirer was. He understood her reasons why she couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t really her secret to divulge. Shunsui had to respect that despite his desperation.

“Is my sweet Nanao-chan giving her taicho dating advice?” he teased instead.

“Yes, I am,” she declared with a raised brow. “For even I can see how far you’ve fallen that you need advice from me to get yourself a date!”

Shunsui gasped, buying into the friendly teasing. “Nanao-chan is so mean to her taicho!”

Finally, they both got back to work, but Shunsui’s mind was still thinking about what Nanao had said. Apparently breadcrumbs were laid out and he hadn’t even noticed! He clearly had to pay more attention.

He tried to outline the facts in his mind. 

The letters were always lemon scented. It could be a shampoo or some kind of scented cream...but it smelled fresh, almost as if unintentional. Something to further ponder upon. 

The gifts were always elaborate but simple and he hadn’t been able to trace it through any vendor. The chocolates were handmade so his little Secret Admirer was probably very good with cooking and baking. 

The handwriting was very distinctive as well. Especially the way she looped all her Ls and Bs with a distinctive flowy curve. 

So far, the facts didn’t fit well into place to identify her as anyone he knew...but somehow, it felt like it was just barely within reach now. As if it’s only missing one final puzzle piece for the whole thing to come together.

__

That night, sleep evaded him once more. He couldn’t deny it. He missed her! He couldn’t help but wishing that she was right next to him, romancing him with more than just her words. He wished he could cherish her in all the ways he desperately yearned to.

 He took the letters he kept at hand in the drawer of his bedside table. He found that he liked to read them sometimes, and no matter how many times he read her words, they still managed to make him feel things. The shape of her words, the texture of the paper...it comforted him.

However, the sensual seductive ones were his downfall.

With all the time he has been alive, and all the experience he’s had, one would think he would be able to resist the temptation. But he often couldn’t.

Reading those letters, describing how she wanted to make love under the moonlight or how she yearned to taste him...it had him imagining soft feminine hands touching him. His hand would unconsciously reach into his hakama of its own volition and grasp his manhood, wondering what it would feel like to be touched by someone who ardently wanted to please him.

It wouldn’t take him too long at all. He would cum, gasping into the empty bedroom, wishing he had a name he could moan. Wishing she was here for him to hold.

Sated, he’d finally fall asleep. Yet though his body was satisfied, his mind wasn’t. He couldn’t help but feel alone on this big empty bed.

__

That coveted final piece of the puzzle arrived as, of all things, more paperwork. He was mindlessly flipping through some reports after lunch the next day when it popped out at him like well-lit beacon.

It wasn’t anything special. Just a request for more funds to be allocated for a better training ground for the 13th division. Except it was filled out by his beloved Secret Admirer. The handwriting screamed her identity at him, looping Ls and Bs and all.

“_____-san,” he whispered to himself, wondering how he could have missed it.

Suddenly, everything was perfectly crystal clear. 

Everyone knew that while Kuchiki Rukia settled in enough to pick her own fuktaicho, the 3rd seat of the 13th was acting in that role in an unofficial capacity, putting her in-charge of all the paperwork coming and going from that division. A reason why she was always showing up at the 1st...giving her ample opportunities to learn his habits well enough to leave behind those delightful missives without ever getting caught.

The lemon scent was from all the lemonade he knew she made for her division and for some special occasions in the seireitei. It was her specialty, a way of creating comfort and homeliness for her subordinates. He had tasted her chocolates twice - once at the Valentine’s Day party itself and then when she gifted them to him specifically. Both facts which had been pointed out by Nanao-chan while _____-san stood right next to him. No wonder she had flushed red then. It hadn’t been out of embarrassment but possibly from thinking she might get caught. The little minx.

He couldn’t help but remember every encounter he had with her in the recent past. Her cute blushes...the way she gasped out “Soutaicho!” Come to think of it, every time he saw her, he felt like she almost called him Shunsui out of habit only to change it to his official title at the last minute. He even recalled the twinkle in her eyes every time she looked up at him.

He couldn’t believe it. He finally knew who his Secret Admirer was and she’d been right before his eyes, had he only known where to look. He couldn’t help smiling, thinking about all the ways he would get back at her for running him around in circles. He would torture her so, so deliciously…

“You have that dopey smile on your face. Should I be worried?” Nanao asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm…? Of course not, Nanao-chan,” he said, not really reassuring her at all. “I am heading out. Be back soon!” 

“Taicho!” she called out but he was already gone.

__

...to be continued.

__

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[sinner-as-saint]

my sweet love

Professor!reader x uni student!bucky 

Run-through: You run into an ex-student of yours at a cozy pub. You immediately recognize him given he used to be the troublemaker of the batch. You two start a casual conversation, which ends with a certain confession; which then causes the night to take an interesting turn… 

Themes: smut, fluff

You lifted your head up to look at who had just tapped you gently on the shoulder. You soon found yourself staring into a pair of blue eyes. Eyes which seemed so familiar. 

“Oh my god! Bucky?” your jaw dropped a little, in surprise. Bucky smiled back at you, casually leaning in for a hug like you were an old friend, instead of his ex-professor. 

“The one and only.” He beamed as he pulled away. 

Bucky was one of those students whom you could never forget; he was always the loud one, the joker, the pretty boy all the girls secretly had a crush on and he pretended not to know. He was smart, but a bit of a pain sometimes - especially since he spent half his time flirting with you. 

“Wow,” he eyed you up and down. “You didn’t change one bit. You’re still the gorgeous woman who stole my heart, I see.” 

His words earned an eye roll out of you. “This again? Seriously?” you chuckled as you remembered all those times he complimented you without any hesitation. He even got you flowers for Valentine’s Day each year. 

He fake gasped, pretending to be hurt. “You hurt me, woman. What do you mean ‘again’? I never stopped loving you.” he spoke, dramatically as he took a seat on the stool beside you at the counter. 

You rolled your eyes at him and you couldn’t help but take in his appearance. Lose tie, dark blue button down shirt, slacks; it gave away that he was here after work. “You finally joined your father’s company, I see.” you noted as you remembered how much he used to complain about never wanting to work with his father ever in his life. 

He smiled, remembering the same thing, “Yeah. Dad wanted to retire, so I volunteered to take over. You know, like a good son. Like a responsible, mature adult.” He gave you that same smile he used to give you back in uni whenever he said some stupid stuff just to get a reaction out of you. 

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “You still haven’t changed.” You smiled back at him. 

“You didn’t either.” He gave you a look which you couldn’t quite understand. But you would admit that he didn’t seem like he was the same man-child he used to be back in uni. “Let me buy you a drink.” He spoke again. You began refusing but then he stopped you with puppy eyes. “Oh come on, I met you after almost three years. I insist.” 

“Okay. Just one drink.” 

-

Three wines later, the two of you were still in deep conversations, laughing uncontrollably at all the funny anecdotes you shared of your time as his professor back in university. 

He set his glass down after his final sip and turned to face you. The lights were dimmer than earlier, or maybe that was just the after effect of the wine. But the blue in his eyes stood out even more now. Or maybe that was because he had inched closer to you over the past hour. 

“Do you remember that day when I gave you a ride home?” he asked. 

You widened your eyes and chuckled, “Yeah and it was raining like hell, right? Some idiot slashed my tires, and I never found out who did it.” 

Bucky chuckled quietly before biting his lip. “That idiot was me.” He waited for a reaction out of you, his heart racing. He calmed down only after you cracked a smile, which then turned into a laugh. 

You shook your head at him, this was years ago and you weren’t mad anymore. “Why did you do that?” you were genuinely curious. 

He sheepishly answered, “I just wanted to spend some time with you, go on a drive and you know…” he finished, embarrassed now that he was saying it out loud. 

You pieced it all together. “So that bit where you got lost driving around in circles and blamed it on the rain and fog, that was all pretend?” you asked, he covered his face with both hands and nodded. You laughed again and it was the most adorable thing he had ever heard. “Why? Do you know how much trouble you caused me?” you shook your head, still surprised at his confession, yet something about it was adorable. 

He removed his hands from his face and lifted an eyebrow, giving you his famous smirk, “I can make up for it, if you let me.” His tone changed, his voice suddenly sounding deeper. 

“Bucky.” You said it like a playful warning. You knew what he meant. 

He inched closer and casually twirled a lock of your hair around his finger. “What, I’ll be so good to you.” He looked up into your eyes, letting his eyes linger at your lips first, then giving you that puppy dog look. 

“Stop it. Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me anymore.” You smirked. You didn’t know exactly where this was heading, but for now, you were going with the flow. 

He smirked back at you. “Does that imply that it worked in the past?” 

“Bucky.” You used the same reprimanding tone as before. 

He chuckled. “God, I still fucking love it when you use that tone on me.” 

His words made you giggle. You took another look at him and smiled. He was adorable. You stopped yourself before eyeing him any longer. “It’s late, I should go.” 

He grabbed your hand gently, holding it in his much larger, warm one. “I fell in love with you in my second year.” He said it, finally. 

You chuckled. “Okay, that’s it.” You pulled your hand from his and stepped down from the stool and faced him with a genuine smile. “It was nice seeing you again. Make sure you get home safe, alright?” the professor in you added the last part, caring for anyone younger than you became a personality trait at this point. 

You turned around to leave, and he followed you with a loud, dramatic groan. “Don’t walk away, I just proclaimed my love for you and you’re leaving me stranded and alone here? Come on,” he complained after you as you stepped out of the pub. You had a silly smile on your face the whole time, laughing at his silliness. 

He caught up with you right outside the entrance of the pub, pulling you aside on the sidewalk. “Listen to me,” he grabbed you gently by the waist, pulling you closer. You would be lying if you said that this proximity did not give you any butterflies at all in your stomach. “I don’t know how to say this, but I feel things for you, I-,” 

You cut him off, chuckling. “Bucky, what you feel is called an academic crush. We all went through it at some point, even I did. You need to calm down-,” 

He cut you off again, leaning closer, smirking at first but then getting all defensive. “My poor little heart. How dare you just crush it like that, ma’am?” and he made you laugh again, you were beginning to feel just a little buzz from the wine. 

You shook your head. “Go home Bucky.” you got out of his embrace and walked away, keeping an eye out for a cab. You found one rather quickly, and once you got inside the other door opened as well and it didn’t come off as a surprise when Bucky settled right beside you. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Now what, you’re gonna follow me home?” 

He shrugged, “I found you after three years, I’m not letting you go. I don’t care if you make me sleep on your porch, I will-,” 

You shut him up abruptly by placing a finger right on his lips. “Shh.” you giggled, the wine definitely giving you more than just a little buzz. “You are such a baby.” Bucky watched you in awe. He didn’t know where this was going either, but he liked it so far. 

He didn’t lie when he said he fell for you in his second year. He remembers the day like it was yesterday. He was stressed out, late at night in the library on the eve of an exam. And he remembers how you walked in and found him struggling so you helped him out. He remembers how patient you were that night, and that was also the first time he behaved and actually paid attention to what you were saying. And he aced the exam. He realized that night that no one was ever going to be this kind and gentle, and attentive towards him. No one but you. And just like that, his heart fell for you. 

While in the cab, he tried to hold your hand but you giggled and pushed him away each time. “Why do you hate me?” he asked, faking a frown. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“Why don’t you love me back then? I’m good-looking, I’m funny, I’ve got a nice job and everything-,” 

You cut him off, “Because I used to be your professor a couple of years back Bucky.” You laughed quietly at how he groaned loudly when you said that, throwing his head back against the seat and everything. 

“This again, oh my God!” he groaned. “You used to be my professor. Past tense. Not anymore, and I really, really l-,” 

You cut him off by telling the driver that you had reached your destination. Bucky sighed but still followed you out of the cab and into your home. “Woah,” he looked around. It was a lovely home which you were grateful enough to be able to afford so you just smiled back at him. 

“Now what?” you asked, unintentionally smirking. 

“What’s the hurry, ma’am?” he approached you and you rolled your eyes. 

“Bucky…” you warned him again, playfully. 

“Okay, I deserve at least one chance to prove myself.” he raised his eyebrows at you, trying to look like he was making sense. 

You sighed. “You don’t have to prove anything. You’re a brilliant young man, and you-” he cut you off by leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss. 

Your mouth moved against his wonderfully, you felt him smile through the kiss as he pulled you closer. He placed his hands on either side of you, his torso pressing into you, you smiled through the kiss again. Your hands found their way into his hair and you lazily ran your fingers through his soft hair.  

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day I first saw you, you know that?” he whispered softly along your skin as he kissed, and bit down your neck and the side of your throat. You giggled in his arms, pushing him away playfully. But he came right back and held you even tighter. “Don’t push me away, not now.” he whispered in your ear and you found yourself shivering at the tone he used. 

You felt something shift in the air; it was a pleasant shift. You could no longer ignore the sparks which flew in between the two of you. You pulled away just a little to look into his eyes and that was it - you stopped thinking and analyzing; you just did what felt right. 

You found yourself leaning in again, and his lips met you halfway. You smiled into the kiss and tugged on his hair, gently but firmly as his tongue slipped into your mouth once again, slowly stroking the top of your mouth. Your lips moved perfectly together, Bucky nibbled on your lip and kissed your open mouth hungrily. His hand slipped under your top and he caressed your skin with his slightly cold hands; tracing imaginary shapes right under your boobs – most definitely leaving behind goose bumps where his fingers touched you so gently. 

You let out a little moan, and you felt him smirk right after. He pulled away to look at you, a lovesick look on his face and lust in his eyes. Your lips parted as you gasped for air; breathless after his kiss. 

“Bedroom?” you asked, and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss the side of your mouth. His soft lips pressed against your skin and your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Nope,” he kissed along your jaw till he reached your ear where he whispered, “Your study.” 

You let out a giggle. “What?” 

He pulled away to look at you. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your desk.” His bluntness made you giggle. “Please let me.” he whispered in your ear again, making you shiver in anticipation and need. 

Fuck… 

Needless to say, once you gave him your approval; he rushed you upstairs. The two of you unable to keep your hands off each the whole time; stopping every two to three steps to pin the other to the wall and kissing each other like your life depended on it. 

Once you made it to the study room, Bucky’s hands and lips were on you again, not letting go for even a second this time. He kissed you with ardor, a moan escaping your lips and you whimpered with need as his hand reached your lower back and stopped right on your ass, giving it a little squeeze. He smirked at your reaction and did it again while walking the two of you backwards until he sat you down on the edge of your desk. 

He pulled away to look at you, “You okay?” he asked as he unbuttoned his shirt. Oh you were more than okay. You nodded at him, biting your lip and reached out and helped him unbutton his shirt faster. Bucky chuckled at your lack of patience and leaned in to kiss you again. Your hands found their way over to his toned chest, you traced his muscles with your finger tips and he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer. “I want you. Now.” 

He leaned in for another kiss, this time slowly lifting your top up until he finally took it off and tossed it aside carelessly, leaving you in just your skirt. He inched closer, your bare skin touching and making you want to moan again. His lips slowly moved along your jaw and down to the side of your throat, leaving dark red marks behind on your skin. 

You whined as he reached out and slipped his hand under your skirt, he ran his knuckles along your wet folds through your underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch. He smirked against your lips, “You’re dripping.” He commented, slowly sliding your underwear down. You moaned as you felt his fingertips gently trail down your legs, he eventually got down on his knees, spreading your thighs further apart. 

He placed a kiss on your inner thigh and you gasped. He reached out with his two fingers and gently circled your clit, gathering your wetness from your folds and smearing it around. “Did I do that?” he asked, smirking. You threw your head back and moaned as he lazily toyed with your folds, knowing exactly where to touch you to get you going. “Answer me,” he whispered against your skin as he kissed up and down your thigh. 

You looked down, bit your lip and let out a pathetic yes. He smirked and placed his hands on your thighs and spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without a second thought; the lower half of his face completely submerged into your dripping core. You moaned out loud as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your clit mercilessly. 

Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. Wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. You were sure your arousal must have leaked onto the table by now. “So sweet…” he whispered and got back to assault your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.

Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers. He moaned as he ate you out. You whimpered under his touch, feeling his stubble rubbing against your soft skin; it burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His deep blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

Your arousal drenched the lower half of his face as he ate you out relentlessly until you were nothing but a moaning, hot mess, squirming above him. He had been dreaming about this very moment since the day he first saw you. Part of him thought that he would never end up with you one day, but now that he had you, finally all to himself, he wasn’t planning on letting you go just yet. 

“Fuck…” you moaned out loud; your eyes closing and your head tilting back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again.

His intense blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud.

You came violently all over Bucky’s tongue, body shuddering and shaking while you moaned his name out loud. It gave him an unfamiliar, but pleasant rush when he heard your strained voice moan out his name. Oh he had dreamt of this so many times, but none of his dreams felt this good. He kissed your inner thighs and licked you clean before standing back up. 

He smiled at you before gently pushing you back down on the table. Bucky leaned down and his mouth latched on to one of your nipples. He sucked on it gently as his teeth teased the bud and your back arched off the table in pleasure; whining. Your hands found their way into his hair and you tugged on his hair softly, making him groan. He kissed his way up to your neck once again as he aligned his cock to your core. You could feel his tip, leaking with precum, slightly pressing against your clit. 

Slowly, he slipped inside of you, groaning at how tight you were. You felt his length stretching you out entirely. He panted as he started rocking in and out of you slowly. You moaned out loud, feeling all of him; stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was his body. 

He hovered above you for a moment, looking down at you softly; watching you moan and squirm as you struggled to take his cock. “Does that feel good?” he stared deep into your eyes, his own filled with lust. “Yeah, you like my big cock inside your tight little cunt, don’t you?” he whispered against your lips, leaning in to just press his lips against yours. 

He moaned out loud as he pulled out completely and pushed back into you, you gasped at how he filled you up and stretched you out. He kissed along your jaw. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long, you have no idea.” He murmured into your ear. “Now I’m not gonna let you go until you cry from coming too hard around my cock, you hear me?” 

You weren’t sure if you responded to that but regardless, he fucked you like an animal. “Fuck… you feel so good…” he whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to kiss your open mouth, swallowing all your moans and mewls in the process. You whined upon hearing the wet, slapping sounds your bodies made when they came in contact with one another. Mixed with his scent and the growls leaving his mouth, it was all too sinful. 

“Look at me.” He stared down at you, his ocean blue eyes seemed even prettier in the dimmed room. You could only nod, unable to form coherent sentences while he pounded into you like he owned you. He leaned in again, kissing you softly. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good, huh?” he whispered against your lips. 

You tried answering but it ended with a loud moan as his cock reached all the right places. He smirked and sped up into you again, relishing the feeling of you wrapped around him like you were made for it. Hearing you moan and squirm under him only encouraged him to thrust deeper into you, he wanted to feel all of you and he wanted you to feel all of him. 

He was relentless. 

He growled right in your ear as his body moved perfectly against yours. You whined; feeling a thin layer of sweat covering both your bodies as your walls milked him perfectly. A tear escaping your eye, out of pleasure. He was quick to wipe it away. He bent down and kissed your lips, pounding into you rapidly like his life depended on it.

Bucky felt you clench and tighten around him, “Come on, beautiful. Cum for me.” He whispered, his voice strained and raspy. Your mind was foggy by now, and it took your brain a few seconds to register and process his words. Not even a few moments later, you felt him twitch inside of you; his cock throbbing against your walls. He came with a growl, gripping your hips. You whined as you came around him as well. Swear words flowing out of your mouth like a chant as you felt his cum dripping out of you as he slowly slipped out of you. His body went limp and he fell in your arms. You felt his smirk against your neck as he kissed his way up to your lips again. 

“So did I do good, ma’am?” 

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

[itsallyscorner]

♥︎ The Struggles of Getting A Valentine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!reader

Summary: The three times Peter tries to ask you to be his Valentine and the one time he successfully does.

Warnings: none. Just a lot of fluff. Peter being a simp, Bucky being the cutest bby ever, and Tony being a dad. This is long. Happy reading💞

(Source — Pinterest)

Attempt #1

Peter watched as you vigorously took down notes. From time to time your eyes would shift back up to the projected screen on the board. Your hair would graciously fall past your ear and to the front of your face, causing you to continuously tuck it behind your ear whenever it bothered you. He let out a dreamy sigh at the thought of running his fingers through your hair and tucking the loose strands behind your ear for you.

He wasn’t paying attention in class; he should have cared more about World War II, but you had his undivided attention without even trying. Besides, he could ask Steve for help if he ever needed it, he’s literally lived through part of World War II. Peter felt foolish as he stared at you, a lovestruck expression was on his face while he admired you from afar. You were just a few seats away from him. You were in the next row, two seats ahead of him. He was so hopelessly in love with you, his feelings for you were more than just a crush. He admired every little thing about you. From your kindness to how talented you were as an Avenger; you were the girl of his dreams.

Ms. Atwell’s voice faded in the background while his mind clouded with thoughts of you. Beside him was Ned, who was also taking notes while trying to get Peter to focus once again. When Ms. Atwell turned her back to the class, Ned roughly shoved Peter’s shoulder. The hearts in Peter’s eyes popped and the chorus of How Deep Is Your Love by The Bee Gees stopped playing in his head. He whipped around to look at Ned, annoyed that his friend took him out of his daydream.

“What?” Peter asks him through gritted teeth.

“Ms. Atwell already yelled at you twice yesterday for not paying attention in class, do you really want her to call you out again?” Ned whispered back harshly. Peter was one of the smartest dudes Ned has ever known, but sometimes he could be as dumb as a rock and as stubborn as a mule.

Peter shrugged him off, “She won’t notice.” He looked to the front to make sure Ms. Atwell’s back was still turned to the class, “I think I’m gonna ask (y/n) to be my valentine.”

Getting lured in with curiosity, Ned asks, “Don’t you guys see each other everyday? And do patrol together? How have you not asked her yet?”

“I don’t know—I couldn’t find the right time to.” Peter answered, turning his head back to the front when he sensed Ms. Atwell turn back to the class. She briefly mentions something about the Howlling Commandos and turns back around.

“When are you asking her?” He hears Ned whisper behind him. He leans back, face still towards the board, “Right now.”

Ned nods then takes a double take at the back of Peter’s head, “Now?!”

Peter rips the corner of the page his notebook was open to and began to sloppily scribble the words:

(Y/n), will you be my valentine?

Yes ⃞ No ⃞

— Peter :)

As childish as his note was, he believed that you would find the gesture cute. Little did he know that Ms. Atwell would too. While he excitedly folded the piece of paper, he had not realized that Ms. Atwell had stopped talking and was looking at him with that stern stare of hers. Cluelessly, Peter quietly giggles to himself and tapped MJ, who was in front of him. When she didn’t turn around, he looks up from the note to see Ms.Atwell hovering above his desk, arms crossed with an unamused look on her face.

Startled, Peter jumps in his seat, eyes wide and cheeks growing warm. He looks around the class to see everyone staring at him, including you. Although, you had that same unamused look on your face as Ms. Atwell. Like Ned, you also scolded Peter whenever he didn’t pay attention in class.

“Dumbass.” You mouthed at him shaking your head. A sheepish grin forms on his face as his eyes shift back to Ms. Atwell. Her red painted lips were in a thin line and her hand was held out at him.

“Give me the note, Mr. Parker”

Peter’s eyes widened even more, making him fear that they might pop out of their sockets, “NO—no, no, no. I—I can’t.”

“And why not?” She asks him in her posh accent.

“Uh—because..” Peter struggled to come up with an excuse. His eyes shifted between you and Ned, desperately asking for help. Ned shrugs in response.

“Just give it.” You mouth to him. He shakes his head at you furiously and was about to respond to Ms. Atwell, but the note was removed from his hands. Peter squeaks as he tries to take it back from his teacher but shoves himself back into his seat when Ms. Atwell glares at him. She opens the note, eyes skimming at the words written on the piece of paper. A small smirk grows on the older woman’s lips.

“P—please don’t read it out loud.” Peter pleadingly whispered to her. He leaned forward, “I’ll go to detention, I’ll even grade your papers for you—just please don’t read it out loud.”

You raise a brow at the brown haired boy, wondering what could have been written on that piece of paper that made him beg Ms. Atwell for detention to not read it. You shift your questioning gaze at Ned, who waves off your nonverbal question.

Ms. Atwell sighs, crumpling up the piece of paper, “Detention after school.”

“Yes.” He whispered to himself in victory, hands clasping together. “Thank you, thank you, Ms. Atwell.”

“I’m only letting this slide once. The next time I see you writing notes in my class, I’m reading it to everyone and calling home.” She warned pointing a finger at him. Peter nods eagerly, “Got it, Ms. Atwell.”

She returns back to her lesson while Peter shoved his face into his hands in embarrassment. A thin layer of sweat had formed on his forehead and his heart was pounding out of nervousness. He musters up the courage to look at you again.

Much to his surprise, you were already looking at him over your shoulder. He flashes you a shy smile to which you reciprocate with one of your own. You turn back around, resuming to take notes from the board. The smile on his face only grew wider as he stared down at his scribbled notebook, the image of you smiling at him stuck in his head.

Attempt #2

The next time Peter tried to ask you to be his valentine happened a few days after his first failed attempt. He was spending the weekend at the tower after Tony and Steve suggested that he should begin training with them more. Of course, he took their advice; this was an opportunity for him to improve on his skills and learn new things. But most importantly, he would get to see you everyday.

Peter was sat on the floor of the Avengers’ shared living room setting up Netflix on the giant flat screen attached to the gray wall. He had finished training an hour ago and was now going to have a movie night with you. You had also finished training the same time he did and suggested that the two of you should watch some new movie that came out on Netflix. He thought it was an amazing idea to have a movie night, obviously it was an amazing idea, you came up with it. He agreed willingly and insisted on grabbing food for you both. He swung from building to building until he ended up back in Queens at the entrance of Delmar’s. The two of you would go to the bodega everyday after school and pick up your usuals. Then Peter would swing you to the rooftop of some building and the two of you would eat before doing some patrol work around the city.

He pulled out your usual sandwiches from the plastic bag and placed them on the coffee table. To pair with the sandwiches, he also bought chips and two bottles of soda. He set up the coffee table and made it look neat. He wasn’t usually a perfectionist, but he felt the need to impress you. Did table or food presentation matter to you? Would you think he was sloppy if he carelessly placed the food on the table? Or maybe you’d think he was a neat freak from how neat and trim the food was laid out?

While you gathered extra pillows and blankets from your room, Peter continued to fidget with the food on the table. He moved the bottles of soda around too many times and even tilted the chips to make it look aesthetically pleasing. When he was content with how everything was organized, he glanced at the plastic bag. Along with the food, he had also bought a box of chocolates. The red heart shaped box caught his eyes and he felt his fingers inching closer to it. It was almost Valentine’s Day and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine. He felt a rush of adrenaline in his body when he took the box from the shelf and purchased it. Peter made the spontaneous decision that he was going to ask you to be his valentine during your movie night. He would place the box on top of your food and when you come out of your room, you would see the box and then he’ll finally get the chance to shoot his shot.

Peter gripped the red heart box and gingerly placed it on top of your chips. He eyed it nervously before shifting his attention back to the tv. He was searching for the movie you suggested on watching when Bucky walked into the living room. The two greeted each other quietly until Bucky caught sight of the box of chocolates.

“Are those chocolates? I haven’t seen them in these heart shaped boxes in forever.” Bucky reminisced, picking up the box and inspecting it. His eyes were filled with curiosity, “Woah, they make them look all flashy now. Back in the day, ours didn’t have bows or glitter on ‘em. It was just some picture.”

Peter found himself smiling at Bucky’s sudden interest in the box. “Did they come in different flavors back then, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky whips his head up to look at Peter, “No! They only had milk chocolate. They come in different flavors now? No way.” Bucky exclaimed, turning the box around to see all the flavors listed on the back. After seeing Bucky’s reaction to the chocolates, he wanted to just give them to Mr. Barnes. But if he gave them to Mr. Barnes, then he would have nothing to give you when he asks you to be his valentine. He didn’t necessarily need to give you anything to ask the question, but it would have made the gesture more sweet and somewhat romantic. Though, that smile on Bucky’s face was a rare sight.

Peter’s shoulders slumped against the couch he was leaning on. He mustered up a smile and told Bucky, “You can have it if you want.”

“Oh no, it’s fine, this is yours. I could ask Steve or Sam to buy me one at the stores.” Bucky waved him off, trying to hand the box back to Peter. Peter shook his head, making the brown curls on his head wiggle, “No, take it Mr. Barnes. (Y/n) and I already have plenty of junk food here. You know, with training and all, wouldn’t want all that work to go to waste just to eat a bunch of junk food.”

“Are you sure, kid?” Bucky asked still holding out the box at Peter.

Peter sent him a soft grin and motioned for him to take it, “Yeah go ahead, you’ll enjoy it more than us.”

Bucky’s grin widens and he holds the box of chocolates up to his chest, “Thanks Peter! You’re not as bad as Sam says you are.” With that, he turns around and walks back down the hall.

“Thanks?” Peter said, a brow raised at Bucky’s retreating body. You come around the corner with an arms full of blankets and pillows. Peter chuckles and gets up to help you.

“(Y/n), you didn’t have to get so many pillows.” He teased, taking a blanket and two pillows from you. You huffed and placed the items on the floor.

“I just want to make sure we’re comfortable, Pete. Comfort is important during movie nights.” You defended yourself.

As you set up the blankets and pillows you glance at Peter, “Bucky told me you gave him chocolate. That was sweet of you.” A tint of red forms on his fair cheeks.

“It was nothing. Apparently they didn’t have different kinds of chocolate back in the day. When I told him, his whole face lit up, it was probably the happiest I’ve ever seen Mr. Barnes.” He explained, sitting beside you on the floor.

You smile fondly at the boy next to you, he truly was the biggest sweetheart. “It’s not nothing. That probably made his day, Pete. We barely see Bucky smile.”

Peter hummed in response, too busy being mesmerized by the light in your eyes. He averts his gaze before you can catch him staring at your face.

Peter’s eyes land at the food on the table. His bottom lip pursed into a pout when he spotted a dent on the bag of chips created by the box of chocolates. The small dent taunted him and was only a reminder of how he should have been already popping the question. He mentally cursed at himself, he couldn’t help but become a perfectionist when it came to you. He couldn’t just ask you the question—you deserved a bouquet of flowers, boxes of chocolate, teddy bears—heck he’d give you the world without you even asking for it.

“Hey! I got you your favorite.” He sees you instantly perk up. That beautiful smile of yours takes over your features and the butterflies in his stomach came to life. He found himself reciprocating your smile.

“Thank you, Peter! You’re the best!” You squeal, pressing a light kiss on his cheek and throwing your arms around him. He was taken aback by the sudden form of affection. Shock was written on his face while his body was frozen. Meanwhile, you were already digging into your sandwich while he was still in his flustered state, processing what just happened.

Attempt #3

This had to be the perfect time to ask you, Peter thought to himself. The two of you were sat on the ledge of some random roof Peter swung you both onto. You were sat beside him, feet swinging back and forth while you looked down on the bright city. Your hands gripped onto the edge of the roof, your fingers brushing against Peter’s once in a while, making the both of you blush.

Wind gently breezed past you, causing strands of your hair to brush over your shoulder. He should have been patrolling the city, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but his eyes were glued to the side of your face. The lights from the city reflected on your features; giving your skin a warm glow and your eyes a sparkle. He thought you looked absolutely stunning.

“It’s not nice to stare.” You suddenly tease him. He’s been caught. His mouth was agape and he quickly turned his head away from you sputtering. You smirked to yourself knowing that his cheeks were turning bright red.

“Oh—um, I wasn’t—yeah, no, I’m sorry.” He muttered. His hand awkwardly scratched the back of his neck as he glanced at you. He was thankful that it was the night time, this would’ve been more embarrassing if you saw how red his cheeks were.

A playful smile was on your lips, “I’m playing, Peter. Is there something on my face?”

Besides beauty? No, there’s nothing on your face, was what he wanted to tell you.

“No! Your face is—fine.” He answered smiling nervously.

Wait, why would you say her face is just FINE? He thought to himself. He then continued to stutter out words, “I—I mean, your face is really pretty.”

You stared at him, amused at his flustered state. You always found his bashfulness adorable. He easily blushed at any compliment or kind of physical contact. You could nudge shoulders with him and his cheeks would instantly go red as a tomato. Even though he easily blushed, he was the sweetest person you knew. He cared about others around him, he had the kindest soul, and he knew how to treat a girl right. He was also a thief, because he stole your heart the moment you first laid eyes on him.

You giggle at him and bite your lip, “Thanks Pete. Your face is pretty too.”

“Thanks.” He breaths out. His inner voice then spoke, this is your chance idiot just ask her the damn question. Peter agreed with himself, this was the perfect moment. The moon shined in the night sky, the twinkling lights of the city set the mood, and the two of you were finally alone—this was perfect.

“Hey, (y/n)?” You turn your attention to him to see him fiddling with his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

You laugh, “You just did, twice, but yeah, shoot.” Your joke seemed to loosen him up because it got him to chuckle.

He eyes your hand before grabbing it. He fumbles with your fingers until you decide to help him out and interlock them together. You see him smile at your fingers.

His thumb rubs the back of your hand, “Well, I’ve been trying to ask you this for a long time now. People just keep getting in the way of all my plans. Uh—I was wondering, only if you want to, if you want to be my—“

A shrill scream interrupts Peter. He clenches his jaw, hanging his head down in defeat. You squeeze his hand, catching his attention. The adorable pout was on his lips again and you were tempted to kiss it away.

You flash him an apologetic smile, “We should check on that.”

“Yeah, we should.” Peter grunted, taking his mask and shoving it on. With the hand that was still holding yours, he helps you up from the ledge.

You wrap your arms around his neck while one of his hands rest on the small of your back. He checks to see if his web shooters are on properly and pulls you closer to his chest, “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get ‘em.”

Success

It was only a night away until Valentine’s Day and Peter still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine. His heart felt heavy when you didn’t walk through the doors of your shared first period class. You must’ve been running late, he remember thinking to himself. He waited to see you at fourth period, but to his dismay, you were still not there. During lunch, he kept to himself and picked at his food while he worried about you. Asking you to be his Valentine was long forgotten, now he was wondering why you didn’t show up to school. Were you sick? What if you were in danger? Was there an invasion at the tower? Maybe you were on a mission? But that didn’t make sense, since you’d usually tell him you had a mission before hand. His entire day was spent thinking of reasons why you weren’t at school.

The second the bell rung, he rushed out of the school, leaving behind a concerned Ned. He sprinted to the train, then stopped by Delmar’s to get your usual order and another box of chocolates. He shoved the items into his book bag and swung his way to the tower. He greeted the receptionist and squeezed his way into an elevator. When he landed on the Avengers’ floor, he saw Sam, Tony, and Rhodey at the kitchen.

“Hey kid! How was school? Educational?” Tony greeted him, ruffling his hair as he passed by.

“Uh, yeah.” He answered, not bothering to actually answer Tony’s question. “Where’s (y/n)?” He asked them looking around the floor. Sam and Rhodey share a look at the boy’s eagerness.

“A mission came up. She’s out with Nat, Wanda, and Steve.” Sam answered, taking a sip out his mug.

Peter’s shoulders sag, “Do you know when they’re coming back?”

Rhodey glances at the time, “Not till tonight.” Peter curses to himself. Tony raised a brow at the boy, “Why are you so desperate to see (y/n)?”

“I’m not desperate!” Peter weakly defended himself. “I just—I had to ask her a question before tomorrow.”

Tony smirks at Peter, “It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.” Peter sighs and tosses his bag onto the floor. He pulls out one of the stools at the counter and shoves himself to sit on it.

“Exactly.”

“So you finally grew the balls to ask (y/n) out? About time, I was getting tired of seeing the two of you make puppy eyes at each other from across the room.” Sam snickered. Rhodey nodded, agreeing with Sam.

“We don’t make puppy eyes at each other.” Peter grumbled crossing his arms. Tony leans on the counter across from Peter, “Did you get her anything?”

“I got her usual sandwich from Delmar’s and a box of chocolates. I was gonna ask her to hang out in the garden and we’d eat our sandwiches there, then I would’ve asked her to be my Valentine.” Peter explained to the three men.

“You got her a sandwich and a box of chocolates?” Rhodey asked him.

Peter shrugged, “It’s all I could afford! I don’t get any money from being Spider-Man.”

Tony felt bad for Peter. He saw how the two of you interacted; bright smiles and attached at the hip. You guys obviously liked each other, but were too chicken to admit it. This was the exact push you both needed to admit those feelings. Tony patted down his pockets until he felt his wallet.

“I don’t trust you with my card, so here’s a hundred.” Tony slides the bill across the counter to Peter. The boy’s brows knitted together, “For what?”

Tony motions to the elevator, “Go and get your girl some flowers or something, I don’t know. You’ve got time before she gets here.”

“What? Mr. Stark I can’t take your money.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Kid, you’ve been making heart eyes at this girl since the moment you first saw her. Now take the damn money and make this a memorable Valentine’s Day for her.”

Peter takes the bill and shoves it into his pocket, he stumbles out the chair and slings his bag over his shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Stark, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He surprises Tony with a hug before running out of the kitchen.

Peter ended up at the nearest Walgreens. He went all out with the gifts, that he needed two baskets to hold his items at the store. When he got back to the tower he headed straight to your room. He wasted no time in decorating your room. He hung up stringed lights with little heart lanterns attached to them on all four of your walls. He got a few stuffed animals and a giant squishmallow. He laid those things out on your bed paired with some of your favorite candies. He also got that lip balm you’re always raving about, fuzzy socks, and a scented candle. The last thing he got, that he knew you would enjoy, was a Harry Potter Lego set. It was only a small set, but he knew you’d like it nonetheless. You’ve always told him that you wanted to build a Lego set with him and now he was going to make that happen.

He stood in the middle of your room admiring his work. Everything was set perfectly and he was proud of his decorating skills. A knock was heard on the door, making him rush to grab the bouquet of roses on your desk.

“Um, COME IN!” He yelled, fixing his hair and standing straight with the flowers to his chest. The door opens to only reveal Mr. Stark.

“Hey—wow.” Tony observered your room, surprised at how it looked. He turned to Peter and gesture to the roses, “Listen Pete, I appreciate the gesture but I’m a married man.” He raises his ring finger for show, snickering at his own joke.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter whined setting the roses on your bed.

“What? I just came in here to tell you that they’re landing in a few minutes. I got your sandwiches out the fridge and sparkling apple cider for you guys.” Tony hands the items to Peter and two champagne glasses.

“Oh, thanks Mr. Stark.” Tony waves him off, “Don’t tell the others, but you’re both my favorites in this building.” The smile on Peter’s face widens.

“I’ll get outta your hair. Good job on the room by the way, good luck!” Tony leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. Peter sets the sandwiches on your desk and takes the roses again. If Mr. Stark liked how your room was decorated then so will you, hopefully. He sits on your chair and waits for you to come through the door. He waits for a few more minutes until he distinctly hears your voice from behind the door.

He gets up again and fixes his hair and clothes. His heart skips a beat when the handle of your door twisted. The door opens painfully slow till it finally revealed you behind it. You stumble in shock once you enter your room.

“Hi.” He breathes out, hands tightening around the stems of the roses.

“Hey.” You greet him shutting the door behind you. Peter scanned your body, not to ogle at you in your suit, but to check if you had any injuries. You walk towards him and stop when you’re just inches away from him.

“How was the mission? Are you hurt?” He questions you. You fondly shake your head at him, a soft smile gracing your lips. “It was good, we were just gathering intel, nothing too hectic.” You reassure him. Peter nods in response while your eyes dance around the room.

“What’s all this, Pete?” You ask him, a playful glint in your eyes. Peter swallows nervously and offers you the flowers. You quietly thank him, admiring the red and pink flowers.

“Well, remember that one night during patrol?”

“Yes, I do. You had a question for me.”

“Yeah—um I’m gonna ask you that question right now.” Peter explains, fiddling with his hands.

“Okay. But are the heart lights supposed to be a hint because I kinda have a feeling I already know what you want to ask me?” You take one of his hands and interlock it with yours. Peter eases up and chuckles bashfully, swinging your hands from side to side.

“I’ve been trying to ask you this for weeks now and every time people would get in the way of me asking you. I wanted it to be perfect and everything—because you’re perfect. And you deserve something romantic and extravagant for Valentine’s Day. I was gonna give you a sandwich and a box of chocolates; because it’s what I can get with my money. Then Mr. Rhodey called me out so Mr. Stark gave me money and—“ He was in the middle of explaining when you interjected.

“Peter, you’re rambling.” You giggle squeezing his hand.

“I know, I’m nervous, I’m sorry.” He apologized blushing. You shook your head and pulled him closer to you, “You don’t need to be nervous, just ask me the question, Pete.”

He looks down at you, gazing into your eyes, “(Y/n), will you be my Valentine?”

You beam up at him, “I would love to be your Valentine, Peter Parker.”

[twiceinadream]

“Yeogi, yeogi, yeogi.”

Requested: Yup

Request: Momo is unable to escape her dorm on Valentine's Day so instead, y/n sneaks into the dorm

a/u: Hey, everyone! I didn’t realize it was already Friday I’ve been so busy this week, so sorry if this seems a little weird I wrote this over a month ago and just finished it today. I hope you still enjoy this Valentine’s prompt. I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

Momo sat in front of JYP with a scowl prominent on her face as he shook his head, “I’m sorry Momo-ssi, but I can’t have you going out and about with Y/N-ssi on Valentine’s.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s just too easy for you and Y/N to be recognized and I don’t want the media swarming the two of you.” Jinyoung trailed off at the end, clearing his throat before frowning, “I’m sorry Momo, I really am.”

The Japanese girl ran a hand through her hair as she tried to play off her sadness, “It’s fine, I understand.” Her voice was sullen as she exited his office and left the building. Resisting the urge to cry in the van till she returned back to their dorm, just wanting to cuddle with Boo and Dobby before she told you she would have to cancel the plans you had made. Mentally preparing herself for the disappointment she would hear on the other end of the line when she broke the news to you, sometimes she hated being an idol.

It didn’t take long to get from the company back to Twice’s dorm as Momo stared at your contact, resisting the urge to call you until she got inside as she thanked the driver and headed up. Her head hit the wall of the elevator as she rode it to their floor, her heart sinking into her stomach as she entered the shared dorm to find Sana, Nayeon, and Tzuyu sitting in the living room. Expectant looks on their faces as Nayeon raised an eyebrow at her, noticing how Momo’s shoulders were slumped forward and she looked like someone had just told her she’d have to give up jokbal.

The eldest bit her lip as she made eye contact with the third oldest, “How’d it go?” The question was stupid, Nayeon knew that, but decided to ask anyway. And with the way Momo just stared at her for a second before leaving down the hall, she got all the answers she needed, “I guess that’s a, ‘No’.”

Tzuyu deadpanned the sole Korean, “You don’t say Unnie.”

The sound of bickering followed Momo down the hall as she opened the door to her, Sana, and Nayeon’s shared room. Boo and Dobby lounging on the bed as they got up the instant the door opened, happy yips coming from both of them as they saw their owner enter the room. Their tails wagging as Momo laid on the bed, a soft smile gracing her lips as they cuddled into her sides. A frown taking over her smile as she smiled heavily, cuddling the two dogs as she felt tears sping into the corner of her eyes.

The Japanese girl burried her head in their fur as she let a soft sob from her lips, ‘Why couldn’t she just see you like every other couple on Valentine’s?’ She continued to cry till she eventually fell asleep, sad looks on Sana and Nayeon’s face as they listened on the other side of the door. They hated seeing any of their members sad, Momo especially since she wasn’t really asking for much.

That was when Tzuyu came up behind them, “I have an idea.” The maknae said, scaring the two older girls as she made them jump.

Sana held her hand to her chest as she spun around to face the Taiwanese girl, “Jeez! And what would that be?”

Tzuyu smiled, her dimple showing, “I need to make a few calls and you’ll see.”

-

-The Next Morning-

The sound of loud voices in the kitchen is what roused Momo when she realized she fallen asleep crying, her eyes her puffy and dry as she dragged herself out of bed. Her head felt like it was pounding when she noticed that Boo and Dobby were gone but the door to the bedroom was open. But by the sound in the kitchen she figured that one of girls had taken them out of the room.

The Japaneee girl didn’t even bother to fix herself as she headed towards the kitchen, just wanting to get a strong cup of coffee before she had to call you. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of letting you down so early in the morning, but continued her trek down the hall when she spotted most of her members already dressed in the kitchen, “Are we going somewhere?”

At the sound of Momo’s voice the five other girls stopped what they were doing, staring at the main dancer. Before the front door suddenly opened: Sana, Nayeon, Tzuyu, and a hooded figure stumbled in, barely registering that the Japanese girl was there when the three turned the hooded figure around so that they were facing the door. A bright smile on Sana’s face as she looked at her best friend, “Momoring, you’re up! We have a surprise.”

The glee in the younger’s voice made her raise an eyebrow, “Do I need to change?” They stifled a laugh as Nayeon turned the hooded figure back around, and time seemed to slow in Momo’s eyes as the figure slowly lifted the hood to reveal, “Y/N?”

You smiled brightly at your girlfriend’s reaction, shooting her a wink, “The one and only.”

“How did you…?” Your girlfriend’s voice trailed off as she resisted the urge to cry, her body flooding with so many emotions when Boo and Dobby circled around her ankles.

You crossed the distance between the two of you as you wrapped her in a hug, “I got a call from Tzu last night saying that the company wouldn’t let you go out today. So Yoda, the snake, and a bunny snuck me in so I could be with you.”

Momo’s jaw dropped as she looked at her members who were putting on their shoes, “Wait, where are you guys going?”

Jihyo smiled as she motioned to the cabinets and fridge, “We put a little something together for the two of you, enjoy your day together and we’re all staying at Jeong’s sister’s place tonight, so use your time wisely.” The leader winked, making you and Momo blush a deep shade of red.

“Th...thank you.” The dancer said earnestly, going over to hug each of the members as they left.

“Of course Momo Unnie.” Tzuyu smiled, pushing her back towards you, “Now go have fun.” And with that: you, Momo, and the dogs were left alone.

-

It was had gotten late into the evening, with a day filled with rom-com marathons and snacks when you both started craving real food. Momo was leaning against you when she felt your stomach rumble, the sound making her laugh, “Aww, is my poor baby hungry?”

But before she could get another word in, her stomach began making the same noise as you stuck out your tongue, “I guess that makes two of us.”

Momo pouted as you both got off the couch, stumbling your way into the kitchen as you pulled open the fridge. Finding a few miscellaneous items, some chocolate covered strawberries (which you made a mental note of) before you saw a jar of half finished pasta sauce, you held it up to your girlfriend, “Spaghetti?”

The Japanese girl turned to look at you as she was rummaging through the cupboards, pulling out a box of pasta, “Perfect! And I think we might have meatballs in there.” You opened up one of the drawers to find the package she was talking about, only to find fuzz covered meat.

“Momoring, these are spoiled.” You cringed as you quickly threw it away, not wanting to look at it anymore, “Guess we’re back to just pasta and sauce.”

Your girlfriend shrugged, “At least we still have some food.” You nodded as you began taking out a few pots.

“True, and we haven’t burned anything yet.

-

-A Few Moments Later-

“Omg, Y/N! The pasta is burning!” The sound of the smoke detector going off didn’t help the fact you were now frantically running to the pot of burning water as you threw it in the sink.

“How did we burn water!?” You looked at your girlfriend in shock as a beat of silence passed between you two. You both held each other’s state for a second longer before you both burst out laughing, “I probably jinxed us earlier.”

Momo giggled as she went to hug you, knocking her fist against the wooden chopping board, “We forgot to ‘knock on wood’ Y/N-Chan.”

You nodded, “Without a doubt, but what are we gonna do now?” But before Momo could answer the sound of a knock sounded throughout the dorm, you cocked an eyebrow as you went to open the door. Not wanting the delivery person to know this was Twice’s dorm, “Can I help you?”

The man on the other side held up two plastic bags, “Food delivery for L/N Y/N.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, “That’s me.” He nodded as he handed you the bag.

“There you go, have a nice night.” You thanked him before closing the door, walking back to a sheepish looking Momo.

You looked between her and the bags when it suddenly clicked, “You knew the food was going to burn!”

The Japanese girl pursed her lips to prevent from laughing as she held her hands up in defense, “No, I just...um. Wanted to be prepared?”

You shook your head in disbelief as you placed the food in front of her, letting out an offended gasp, “Even my own girlfriend doesn’t trust my cooking skills.”

She deadpanned, “Y/N, you burned water.”

“Did not! The pasta caught fire!” You crossed your arms like a child as Momo began laughing, her eyes crinkling as you couldn’t help but smile too, “But, good call.”

—

You let out a content sigh as you finally bagged up the last of your guy’s dinner before you found a note left on the table, ‘Come and get your dessert -Momoring <3.

You quirked an eyebrow as you noticed the door to Momo’s room was cracked open and a small stream of light was peeking out into the hallway. A smile broke out onto your lips as you made your way to the partially opened door, hastily making your way in as the sight before you made your breath catch in your throat.

Your girlfriend was clad in an ensemble that left little to the imagination as she sat with her knees parted at against the headboard. You swallowed hard as you looked her up and down, your cheeks felt hot under her gaze, “Is this for me?”

Momo had a coy smirk on her face as she made a come hither motion with her finger, “Happy Valentine’s Y/N-ah, come and open your present.”

You wasted no time shoving off your pants as your shirt quickly followed, making a pile on the floor as you ounces onto the bed. Connecting your lips in a heated kiss as you ran a hand over your girlfriend’s exposed abs, loving the way the muscle tensed under your touch as you moved to cup her breast. A breath moan falling from her lips as you pulled away, nipping and sucking at her neck as you left marks deep enough to show.

Your hand snaked behind her back as you quickly unclasped her bra and let the garment fall to the floor, enjoying the newly exposed skin as you took a stiffened nipple between your index and thumb before pinching it slightly. A gasp catching in the Japanese woman’s throat as you took the other into your mouth, swirling the stiffened peak with your tongue before releasing back into the chilly air of the room. Repeating the process with the other as you inched down a little further till you were eye level with her crotch, “May I?”

Momo nodded her head earnestly as you took the elastic of her panties between your fingers, pulling the fabric down slightly so that her hip was exposed. You kissed along the skin that made your girlfriend’s grip on your shoulder tighten as you teased her further, a desperate whine sounding from above as you finally let up, “Needy.”

The dancer pouted as you pulled her underwear off completely, a few strands of wetness still clinging to the material as her opening pulsed with need. Her pussy was pink and puffy with arousal her clit peeking ever so slightly from its hood as you placed a kiss and lick to the junction where her leg and sex met. A surprised moan falling from her lips as you blew a steady stream of air onto her heated core, “Y/N, please.”

You rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s impatience before leaving one last kiss to her inner thigh and diving straight in. Her body tensed as your tongue made its way into her opening, her juices hitting your lips as you ate her out. She tasted-ironically-a bit like peaches as you continued to lap up the essence that leaked out of her, you lifted two fingers to Momo’s mouth indicating for her to suck them as you worked on her lower half. Her tongue coating your digits in saliva before you pulled them away and repositioned them at her aching core. You teased her entrance with your middle finger before sinking in to the molten heat that was Hirai Momo’s sex, a releaved moan slipping from her lips when you added in another finger. Thrusting slowly as you felt for the rough patch of flesh against her frontal wall, resting it with an experimental tap to warm her before copying the come hither motion she had made before as your fingers lightly stroked her g-spot. A loud whine came out of the dancer as she fisted the bedsheets.

Satisfied with your fingers you used your free hand to lift the hood hiding your girlfriend’s swollen clit. The bud had a slight red hue from the neglect but it wouldn’t be like that for long as you left a lingering kiss against her clit, sliding your tongue along wet folds. Momo groaned happily as her hips canted against you, chasing your pliant mouth. With a throaty moan, she let go of the sheets to fondle her breasts, tweaking her nipples gently.

Momo groaned in delight, grinding against your face as you slowly fucked her with your fingers. Your chin was slick with her wetness and as she moaned, your hands drifting along her sides and belly.

You alternated between gentle suckles and broad strokes over her clit as she continued fondling her plump breasts, humming softly against her center as her walls clenched around your thrusting digits. She squealed in delight, grinding against your face, “Oh, yes...”

You couldn’t hold back your moan at the sound, you placed open-mouthed kisses along her slick folds. Before closing your lips around the fat swell of her clit, giving her a second to breath before sucking. Hard.

Momo let out a shriek as her hips jerked off your face, her orgasm gushing out of her in a sudden burst. Covering the lower half of your face with her release as her body shuddered with every wave of pleasure. A series of clipped pants was the only thing you heard before Momo finally came down from her high, carefully taking your fingers out of her as you moved to spoon her.

You smiled as your girlfriend’s bangs stuck to her sweaty forehead, a blissful smile on her face as you leaned down to kiss her, “How was it?”

“Amazing.” Her tone sounded breathless as she nuzzled into you, “What’s the damage?”

You smirked as you looked down at the dark bruises you left on her neck, using your index finger to point at them, “Let’s see, yeogi, yeogi, yeogi.” Momo scowled as you placed a kiss on her swollen lips, “Nea maeum.”

Your girlfriend looked at you for a second before pushing you off the bed, “No! You did not just use Chae’s song to describe my hickies!”

You laughed as you got up from the floor, “Well isn’t that what it’s about anyways?”

Momo rolled her eyes as she threw a pillow at you, “You’re sleeping on the couch.” You stuck your tongue out as you crawled back onto the bed.

“Admit it, you thought that was clever.” The dancer huffed as she turned away from you.

“Shut up.”